Tuesday, March 29, 2011

I found out today that a friend of mine's full name is Maddie Ruth. The conversation went like this:

MR: Ugh. I hate my name. I always told my momma it sounded redneck.
Me: Omigoodness! I looove it. Double names are the best.
Passerby: It would be a perfect name for a country singer in a Jeff Bridges movie. Or a romance novel.
Me: You're not helping.

At any rate, I absolutely adore double names! They are sooo Southahn, y'all.

The other thing I love right now? Mason jars. I want to fill some with candles and hang them from the branches of an oak tree and then eat supper at a picnic table underneath them. Then I will go catch fireflies. Yes, the fantasy is very detailed. This DIY redecoraty kick I'm on right now has either got to stop or I have got to move into a biggah place. Maybe I should just quit looking at Garden and Gun.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

Sunday, March 27, 2011

I got to go to one of my absolute favorite restaurants for dinner the other night, y'all.


White Tiger is one of those don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it, what-a-dive-I-would-never-eat-there kind of places that just oozes Southahn Charm and has more je ne sais quoi than they can fit in their tiny little dining room. Seriously. Fortunately there's plenty of room for the extra je ne sais quoi on the picnic tables outside. The folks here use all local ingredients to make fairly simple food that can only be described as danggood. I usually get the barbeque because...and I mean this for real...it is the best que I have ever had. No sauce. Doesn't need it. Sometimes I'll get a burger because, well, some days are just burger days. The other night, though, I went out on a limb and got the special: smoked sausage cooked in sauerkraut with mashed potatoes on the side...and mac n cheese because you should always get mac n cheese. Ah-mazing. Y'all, it was so much more food than I could possibly eat in one sitting (and y'all that know me know that's saying somethin'), but I didn't want to stop eating even when I felt like I was going to pop. This place is just one of the many reasons I love The Classic City.

The consumption of sauerkraut (interrupted only by verbal expressions of gastronomic pleasure) prompted Colonel Brandon to ask later that evening, "Is there anything you don't like?" I'm not entirely sure whether he meant it in a "Wow, I'm so impressed that you're such an adventurous eater" kind of way or in a "Holy cow, you will eat anything you big, fat pig" kind of way, but I am going to assume the former as he is way too sweet to ever imply the latter. It did get me thinking, though. Other than just plain eggs, I couldn't come up with anything. There are a few things I merely tolerate and there are some things I'd certainly have to steel myself to try (these include animals/animal parts that are still recognizable), but there's really nothing that I don't like. After giving him this response I got a little giddy about how much I love food. It's so good. And I'm so glad I live in The South.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

Monday, March 21, 2011

"The personality of a house is indefinable, but there never lived a lady of great cultivation and charm whose home, whether a palace, a farm-cottage or a tiny apartment, did not reflect the charm of its owner." Etiquette. 1922.

Recently I was struck with a sudden feeling that the interior of my apartment needs a little update. I blame it on my fellow future Lady of Leisah, Sloan, and her recent lamp recovering project. She just loves to fill her blog with cute decorating ideas with no regard for how it will affect others. I suppose that's neither here nor there. At any rate, yours truly felt compelled to give her modest little living room a face lift for spring. Last weekend I rearranged the furniture and dragged poor Colonel Brandon all the way into Atlanta for a Saturday trip to Ikea (y'all, if you must go to Ikea, do not go on a Saturday). The result is a lovely new place for my growing collection of photographs that had begun to cover every table top surface in my apartment.

I am terrible at hanging pictures, y'all, because I do not like to measure. This time, though, I measured twice and was so careful to line everything up just right. The pictures are spaced perfectly and they all hang at nice right angles from each other, but wouldn't you know that once I stand back to look at it, it seems the whole display slants?!? How in the world does that happen? Maybe I'm cursed. Maybe I'm just imagining it. Maybe my apartment is crooked. Ugh. Now I just need to fill a couple of frames and find something to go in the corner behind the chairs. I'm thinking either floor lamp or hanging lamp, but would 3 lamps in a small room be overkill?

Speaking of lamps, I also decided that it was time to do something about this lampshade:

I tried my hand at lampshade decorating a few years ago by adding beading and braiding to this. Don't judge me. I wanted to change it up by covering a new lampshade, but I was having a hard time finding the right shade shape...shaped shade? And I didn't really want to spend any money on a something that I could potentially destroy. Solution?

A neighbor left these out by the dumpster one day with a sign reading, "Free antique lamps. Still work!" Who cares about the lamps? That shade was perfect!!! And free!!! Long story short, the end result is this:

Friends, not only do I think I might now be addicted to lampshade covering, but I've begun toying with the idea of updating other pieces of furniture. Like the Dr. Frankenstein of home decorating, I want to go to dumpsters, yard sales, and thrift stores to find furniture and decor to give life to. Lack of money, space, and skill be darned! What kind of monster has been unleashed?!?

I need the Braves to start so that I have something else to occupy my mind.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

P.S. I'm really proud of the Hoop Dawgs for making it to the dance. I would have loved to see them win, but I'm really happy that they were even in it and that they didn't get embarrassed like some folks in East Tennessee that we won't mention by name because talking bad about people...especially when they are down...is as tacky as that shade of orange said folks wear.

Friday, March 18, 2011

I haven't even bothered to check Etiquette to see what Emily has to say about sniffling in public. She probably doesn't approve. She probably poo-poohs honking one's nose into whatever semblance of a kleenex she can find in her purse as well. The "best people" probably don't sneeze repeatedly into their elbows either. But, you know what? Emily never had to deal with spring in The South, y'all. This is one time I just do not care what she has to say. Okay, okay, I do, but what do you expect from me?

Spring has just arrived in The Classic City and the weather could not be more beautiful. 80 degrees. Sunny. And we're not yet to the point where clouds of dust bowl esque pollen turn everything an awful shade of neon green. Unfortunately, I am a very delicate lady and my sinuses just cannot handle this sudden change in the weathah. Now don't get me wrong, this is definitely a change for good. I love Spring and Summer once I can feel my head again; however, for the moment, I am miserable. Not sick enough to lie in bed and ask my mama to drive over here with some (soy, bleh) chicken soup, but not well enough to enjoy myself...or breathe, really.

Ah well, I shall recover soon. In the meantime, please pardon my very unladylike nose blowing and sniffling.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Gettin' mah pitcher made...

Our church is doing a new pictorial directory this year. For y'all that don't know, this is when all the families get their portraits done. Each family's picture will go in the book with all of their names listed underneath. It is an extremely useful tool when one is trying to put names to faces of all the families in the church. While I appreciate how handy the directory is, I would never actually have my picture included in one...unless I had to...and this time I had to. You see, in pages and pages of family portraits, the single people tend to stick out a bit. People wonder about them as they peruse the book asking questions like, "Why isn't he married?" and "How come they didn't let her include her cats in the picture?" The worst is my poor friend D- who's last name begins with a Z. Not only was she the last person in her church's directory, but she got her very own page.

At any rate, the pastor said that church staff needed to get their pictures taken, so I did. I didn't really mind it, but I wasn't looking forward to it either. It's basically like having your school picture done. You remember, right? The cheesy, awkward pose? The cheesy, awkward photographer? It had all the necessary elements to induce middle school PTSD flashbacks. The only things missing were the plastic comb and the weird pillar they make you rest your elbow on. Here are a few highlights:

Upon walking in...alone:
Photographer: Will anyone be joining you today?
Me: (looking around) Um...no.
Photographer: Well, we have spare people if you want to borrow some! (laughs at his cleverness)
Me: No thank you. Other people will just distract from me.

Filling in the info sheet:
Check in guy: You just put your name and stuff here. Number of subjects? 1. Number of females? 1. Ha! They're the same. I guess you can list yourself as the head of household too.
Me: Thanks.

Looking at the photos:
Photographer: You get the directory for free. It's made possible through print orders. Will you be ordering any prints?
Me: Ummm...not today, but thanks.
Photographer: Well, you get a free 8x10 anyway.
Me: Thank  you, but I don't know where I'll put it. The cat portraits are taking up all my wall space. (okay, I didn't really say that last part).

All in all, it wasn't so bad. The pictures actually turned out pretty good and I won't have to do it again for a few years. I'm sure I can pass the 8x10 on to an appreciative grandmother (which may actually work in my favor as my face will probably be bigger than any of her other grandkids' faces, thus securing my spot as favorite).

Fondest regards,
The Lady

P.S. The Bradford Pears are in bloom down here, y'all. They smell rotten, but boy do they look amazing.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

When the hoop dawgs had a fourteen point lead with less than seven minutes to go against Bama yesterday, I thought, "This is it. Yes, I will be your fan for the rest of my life!"

As the seconds ticked away and the lead grew smaller, I still felt like we were safe.

Even when it was tied up with 2 seconds left and we had possession I figured we'd make a shot and the end of a game would finally go our way!

Then that beautiful, beautiful Dustin Ware hit the basket!!!...right after Coach Fox called time out. Really? REALLY?!?! Why in the world do you call a time out with two seconds left in a tie game?!?!

The boys stomped on my heart in overtime. We're in a fight. I'm not sure our relationship can ever fully bounce back from this one. How do you learn to trust a team that lets you down like that? I'd be willing to consider counseling if there are any Cubs fans out there with some good advice.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

Monday, March 7, 2011

"The invitation to the church should always request the 'honour' - spelled with a 'u'..." Etiquette. 1959.

Upon checking the mail this afternoon, I found I had received a rather large-ish envelope with wedding band stamps in the corner. You know the ones. At first I thought, "Oh dear. I don't even know anyone recently engaged. I really do not want to go sit through a wedding where I won't know anyone." Then I opened the envelope to see a photo of Prince William and that common tart Kate Middleton. Thoughts immediately changed to, "Holy cow! I actually got invited!?!" Obviously that didn't last long as I am not completely delusional. Upon closer inspection, I realized that my friend B- had actually had invitations drawn up for the watching of the royal wedding ceremony. This is why we are friends.


Now I just need to find appropriate pajamas to wear.

Fondest regards,
The Lady

Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Magical Vacation...

You may recall that I received, among many other wonderful gifts, tickets to the theater for Christmas. Well, y'all, this week I got to cash them in...in Orlando. Colonel Brandon and I headed down to sunny Florida for a few well deserved days of R&R. I have been anticipating this trip for weeks. In fact, on the way down I got a little worried that I had mentally hyped it up so much that it couldn't possibly be as wonderful as I expected. It was. It was better. Let's start with the weather. Sunny and mid 70s the whole time. Now, I don't often complain about the weather in the Classic City, y'all, but Florida puts it to shame. I spent the better part of one afternoon poolside and it was delightful. Poor CB kept trying to talk to me, but my incoherent, sun-drenched responses were insufficient. He finally gave up and went for a swim.

While the pool was phenomenal, the real reason we went was waaaaaaayyyyy better.

WICKED!!!!!


Y'all. I had read the book, listened to the soundtrack (ad nauseam) and thought I was prepared for the awesomeness. I wasn't. Everything about Wicked was amazing! The set, the costumes (I particularly loved Glinda's gowns and the Emerald City couture), the actors, and the MUSIC were phenomenal. I think CB even enjoyed it, though I'm not sure it will replace Starlight Express as his all-time favorite. Bless his heart.

Wicked was far and away the best part of the trip; however, since we were already in Orlando, we also went to Universal to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.


It was pretty amazing. They do a fantastic job of making you feel like you're in a different world. Even this guy had to concede that it was impressive despite Harry Potter being a total rip-off of Lord of the Rings. I assured him that as soon as they create a Middle Earth theme park, we are there. Bless his heart.


All in all, the vacation was fantastic, y'all. The only blemish on an otherwise perfect trip was the restaurant we went to for lunch one day. While we were waiting on our food to arrive, CB got up to look at pictures on the wall and found one of Tim Tebow eating in the very same restaurant. Tainted. We would've left except that we'd already ordered. Fortunately, the food was really, really good which almost made up for the decor and shady past. But not quite. Ugh, Florida.

Fondest regards (but not for you, Tim Tebow),
The Lady