I must apologize for my tardiness on this blog, patient readers. I know you have anxiously anticipated the reveal of my purpose in life. I'm sincerely sorry for all the sleepless nights you must have had. The wait is over. Here it is: planning tea parties.

How did I stumble across this, my raison d'etre, you ask? For my friend B's birthday, her husband came up with a brilliant plan for our little group of friends to read her favorite book, Persuasion, and then discuss it at a tea party in one of the campus gardens. I know what you are thinking and, yes, he is super sweet. It makes me wish I could marry my gay best friend, too. Here's the thing about boys planning tea parties...they really don't. It shouldn't have surprised me when he called to ask how the girls were planning to decorate. Decorate?! I just committed to cupcakes! My frustration was soon laid to rest, however, when I discovered how wonderful it is to make tea party hats, put together decorations, and basically dream up the girliest party ever. When I realize my dream of becoming an LoL, this is what I will do (when I'm not tending my hydrangeas).

The party was a huge success (even with the rain which only added to the British charm). Even the guys had fun, though I'm sure they won't admit to it. They all participated in the book discussion (I'm pretty sure one or two of them shed a tear reading Capt. Wentworth's letter to Anne), and I have my suspicions that they even appreciated the uber-girly presentation. Bottom line, we all love B a whole lot and I would've planned a zombie party if she wanted it, but I'm really glad this is what we came up with!

Time for children to go back to school. When I was a kid, the idea of year-round school seemed like cruel and unusual punishment conceived in the minds of the most evil of child-hating adults. Now it seems slightly more appealing. As an aspiring LOL, I can appreciate the need to have a few months free to sleep in every day, lounge by the pool, and summer at the seaside; however, I have noticed in recent years that, by the end of July, Summer vacation has evolved into complete and total anarchy.

Camps are over for the summer, so the kid is with me from 9-5 for a couple of weeks. We've almost made it through this week, and we've had a lot of fun. Next week seems do-able, but I definitely have a new appreciation for my mother. Keeping a 7 year old occupied all day, every day is a near herculean task and definitely NOT leaisahly. Not to mention we have the additional challenge of 115 degree heat index. It's WAY too hot to go outside...even to the pool. Here's what we've done:

Gone to the scary Cabbage Patch hospital

Gone to the children's museum

Read for hours and hours

Watched movies

Been to the dentist -- Though I'm not sure why as she currently has no teeth

Hit up the library

Argued about practicing piano

Played by ourselves

My entertainment arsenal still includes a trip to the dairy, homemade playdough, and a few playdates. I think I can handle 6 more days, but what I really want to know is why in the world don't all parents ship their kids off to summer camp as soon school lets out?

Fondest regards,

The (well caffeinated) Lady

PS -- I have stumbled upon my purpose in life, but I cannot share it yet. More posts (and pictures!) to come!!!

CB cooked dinner for me last night. French toast and bacon, which I'm sure were absolutely delicious, but I will never know because here's how the evening went:

Col. Brandon: Why don't you come over to my house and I'll cook dinner?

Me: Aaaawwww, okay.

45 minutes later

Me: Ummmm...my car won't start. Again.

Sweet Col. Brandon, of course, dashed over astride his white horse (well, in his Altima which is much more practical when one's car needs a jump), sword drawn (well, he had jumper cables) and played the part of the dashing hero*. After jumping the car and letting it run, CB treated me to Waffle House, dragged my sorry butt to Wally World for a new battery which we were unsure of as the funny little letters and numbers did not match the one in my car. Upon getting home to jump the car once more, we found it blocked by an unknown neighbor. At this point we just had to laugh and call friends to help us push it out of the parking spot. I'm pretty sure CB could've done it himself had it not been uphill. We jumped it again and drove it straight to the mechanic where I went this morning. Apparently the battery is dead...duh. For the record, we did purchase the correct battery because we are winners like that. It is currently being replaced by a mechanic. In the meantime, I hope CB isn't considering running away in a hurry after finding out about his impoverished girlfriend and her high-maintenance car.

Fondest regards and happy driving,

The Lady

*For the record, every good LOL should own her own jumper cables and know how to use them. She should also be able to check the oil, change a tire and, if necessary, utilize public transportation. I have never actually needed a White Knight to help me with car troubles, but it is certainly nice to have one.

I'm not generally one to complain about the heat. In fact, summer weather is one of my favorite things about the South. Everything just seems to slow down a bit from June to September as folks do what they can to stay cool. I used to have this Romantic idea that pre-air-conditioning southern summers must have been absolutely wonderful. I'm pretty sure the world just stopped and people lived out on the wrap-around porches sipping tea and fanning themselves while waving at the neighbors who were crazy enough to walk down the street. One need only go inside to refill the tea pitcher or take a mid-day bath. It all sounds so delightfully leisahly. Well, it sounded delightfully leisahly until I moved to an apartment without central air. It was so hot this weekend that all I could do was lay on the floor in front of my window unit. Getting dressed is a chore. Forget blow drying my hair. I didn't even have the will to go get my nails done yesterday! Thankfully Col. Brandon (I believe this is how we shall refer to "Boy" on this blog) came over for dinner (at some point I managed to peel myself off the floor to cook) and rescued me from the oppressive heat.

Speaking of Col. Brandon, I've come to the conclusion that dating nice boys will ruin one's life. I have become lazy, lazy, lazy over the past few weeks. Spoiled by meals out, I've almost forgotten what my kitchen looks like. When I do cook, I get flowers. This morning I had to remind myself how to open a car door...that's an exaggeration, but it did occur to me that, in 2 months, I have not opened the door to his car. I have become completely worthless, but I've been loving every minute of it.

Fondest regards,

The Lady

Dahling readahs, I just got home from my third beach trip of the summah. My life is so hard. We took the middle school kids on a mission trip to St. Simon's and I have decided, for real this time, that I have to live there. When I close my eyes and imagine the perfect Southern beach town, this island is what comes to mind. Don't mistake me, I love the Outer Banks and plan to continue summering there, but I'm pretty sure St. Simon's is meant to be my home. The whole island is covered in trees draped in Spanish moss, there is an adorable little downtown area, and historical tidbits everywhere you turn. I even have a church already picked out. We worshiped in what may be the prettiest building I've ever been in Sunday morning and there were LOLs everywhere. I think the island may be filled with my kind, folks, and why wouldn't it be? This place is an LOL's paradise (maybe right behind Charleston, except SS is way less crowded).

Here's the challenge, now that I have found the place I am destined to live, I need to find someone to pay for it. Unfortunately, aspiring LOLs with part time youth ministry jobs don't make enough money to live at the seaside. Time to find that nice boy with his JD from a respectable Univahsity...

Fondest regards,

The Lady

The trouble with being a sporadic blogger is that there is so much to update when I have time to post that it's almost too overwhelming to bother. I am back home now (for a few days) and kind of appreciative of a break from the travel. I missed the kid and my friends; however, I do occasionally (i.e. every 2-3 minutes) slip into that fantasy day-dream where I'm on the beach with a book in one hand and a coro...ahem...coca-cola in the other. Much as I love my friends, I'd probably give them up for a leisahly life at the seaside. I do get to go back to the beach this weekend, the catch being that I'll have 40 kids in tow (that includes the 3 "adult" male chaperones)...NOT leishaly.

Getting back to normal life has been pretty good, though. I have had the help of a new friend for whom I am trying to think of a good blog name. Time with said friend has been delightful and I do think I shall continue to spend it with him. The only problem, reader, is one conversation we have had of which I will relay a snippet:

Boy: When I'm retired you'll still be working your butt off at your job.

Me: (nervous laugh/confused look) Ummmmm...ahhhhhh...yeah.

You see the problem. I'm sure it can be easily fixed ;)

Fondest regards,

The Lady

Every good Lady of Leisah should have a house on the beach. Not the kind where you have to worry about tracking sand in or keeping wet towels off the furniture. Worrying is not very leisahly. I mean the kind where the beer stays readily available in a cooler on the porch, the breeze gently, but constantly blows through open windows, and one's feet always get exfoliated by the incidental amount of sand tracked in from the beach.
That said, I have decided to stay here at the beach. Not only do I love it, but I feel like it would be a wise career decision at this juncture. It's possible that I should wait until I find my trophy husband to take care of me (trophy husbands are hard to come by on the island), but I'm scrappy, so I'll find some way to take care of finances and such.
Perhaps I will change my mind come the winter months, but right now, this is perfect.