Gas Station Boyfriend

I have a gas station boyfriend. There, I said it. Our love is forbidden. Him working at a gas station, me working for the private art college. We come from different worlds, and sadly I think this is how it will remain. So for a few minutes in the morning, when I'm paying for my coffee, and he greets me in his usual, caring way, things are right in the world. The bill passes from my hand to his, and I know how he feels. He's easy on the eyes, and always has such a way with words. "Have a good day," he quips. He's a charmer, my gas station boyfriend. We don't bother with names or small talk, and if only society wasn't so cruel, maybe we could go public, but until then, we'll always have the French Roast.

YouTube Pick of the Day

Why am I so bad at posting?

An acting lesson from James Franco:

Walking is good for you and your dog

In my quest to be more environmentally friendly, fit and frugal, I've taken to walking just about anywhere possible. Of course this is easy in a city like Savannah, which was designed for walkers and horse and buggy. How do you continue this in a city that wasn't designed for this and in fact has a mentality of drive or die?

I was passed this wonderful website (http://walkscore.com/) which helps calculate the walking score of your neighborhood. Simply type in your address and walk score will find close restaurants, schools, libraries, etc. I think it is going to be a really great tool for me to use once I relocate, and if any of you are looking to do the same, I highly suggest you consider moving to a walking friendly neighborhood. Savannah has spoiled me forever. Down with the car...walking is the new black.

PS - My address in Savannah received a score of 95 out of 100. What did your address score?

My YouTube Pick of the Day

Sadly this reminds me of almost every male that went to college with me. Sad.

Helicopter Moms

I'm going to introduce you to a term you may not know. This is actually a good thing if you and your mother have already weathered the college admission process, and you are still on talking terms. I want to discuss the emergence of the "Helicopter Mother." Helicopter Mothers are given this term because they hover. You can usually spot them from a mile away. Often on college tours they may carry a legal pad or worse....a full out color-coded binder. They dominate conversations, often embarrass their spawn and annoy the hell out of admission counselors from Harvard to Brookhaven Community College. If they could sit with you at your desk as you receive every piece of mail and email, they would. A one page resume will not suffice for their little darling, we need to send a four pager going back to that t-shirt contest her darling won in 3rd grade. As she sends off any piece for her scholar's file, she'll call over and over until it has arrived, and you don't want to be the one to tell a Helicopter Mother that her genius did not receive a scholarship. This just cannot be possible. She has monitored this child's every moment since birth, banned any sort of freedoms, forced...um encouraged extracurriculars and APs, and has framed all art work.

Here's some advice to all of the mothers (or soon to be) out there. These admission counselors that you are annoying are usually dealing with several other mothers just like you with several other perfect children, and there is only so much one person can take. Keep in mind these people are deciding whether or not your kid gets in and/or get scholarships. Wouldn't you want them to be on your side, think you're swell, want to fight for you and throw money at you? This is not going to happen if you keep pissing them off! I'm not saying that admission counselors will take away or make an admission decision or scholarship bc of a mother, but they may be less likely to take a chance on an unknown kid who may not be that perfect.

I know it must be hard to take a step away and not hover. You want the best for them, you want them to become doctors, lawyers, famous painters, etc, but they aren't going to get there with you attached to their back. You are going to do them more good by handing over the college admission process and telling them they are the project manager, and you'll be there for support. They'll grow, take on responsibility, maybe impress their admission counselor, learn how to manage deadlines and maybe even get into college along the way. Here's the thing, if you do choose to hover, what happens when it is time to say goodbye on that fateful autumn day? You can't pack yourself in their truck, and you really shouldn't relocate just to be close to them. They'll need to get by on their own, and it is probably in their best interest that this isn't there first time. Helicopter mothers often produce train wreck freshmen whose freedom (the other sex, booze, no curfew, oh my) is a whole lot more fun than hitting the books.

Here are some helpful guidelines to keep you from becoming one of these dreaded beasts:

1) Chill Out - Almost all college admission criteria and answers are all on the web. So stop writing so feverishly. Take it all in and enjoy the scenery on a tour. You can't recreate that on a notepad.
2) If you need a question answered and you can't find it on the web, have your student call. This shows initiative. This especially goes for graduate students. If I have a graduate students mother call me, it is everything I can do not to label the kid's file "Weenie."
3) Remember that colleges receive thousands of applications and pieces of mail weekly and it isn't like your mailbox where it comes in a nice neat pile. We didn't lose your materials, they just haven't been processed yet, and you calling all the time isn't going to make it better.
4) If you really need an answer, email the counselor. We travel people! It is hard to be by our phones when we are on the road in a desert in Arizona.
5) Don't believe everything that you hear. Always research it for yourself, and if you can't find the answer, then call the school to clarify. Every school has rumors that swirl, and most of the time that is what the end up being, rumors.
6) Be understanding. Counselors are counselors because they want to see students succeed. We aren't bringing in the big bucks, we do this because we care. We want to do the best by the student. Keep in mind that we are dealing with several students at once, and you're not the only one going through this process. Counselors will want to fight for students who treat the process professionally.

Ok, I'll step down from my soap box. I know this entry does not really apply to anyone who reads my blog, but maybe it will someday, and if that's the case...remember keep your feet planted and step away from the binder and label machine.

Funny Dog

This may be lame to some, but I just had to post this video. It makes me chuckle.



I wonder if Brutus likes Watermelon?

Peanuts

As I prepare for my move to the big city, I realize that although the big city offers so many more amenities, it also comes with more expense. I'm writing to all of you, my avid readers (aka my grandparents), for any of your money saving tricks. I'm pretty frugal already, but I always welcome to tips that might help me survive on peanuts.

Why Not?

Moving to Atlanta

Now the blog is going to need a new title. Plus Courtney is moving home from London, so this whole thing is a bust. She'll be in Austin and not contributing, and I'll be in Atlanta and contributing when I feel the need to have my words floating around cyberspace. Any suggestions for a new title?

Charming

Those of you in the Facebook community know that I just returned from Morocco. Apart from daily harassment and offers of camels for my bod, I also apparently held a snake. Yes, I look happy and it was fun, when it was over. We went to check out the cobras and the next thing I knew I had this lovely reptile around my neck. Then I was being hassled for money. Last I checked I didn't pay people to scare the hell out of me. It happened so quickly. Thankfully I was able to dodge the crazy man who was running around with an albino monkey that I'm sure was a disease factory just ready to go all "Outbreak" on me.

What is my problem?

Why do I let the blog just fall by the wayside? I have pictures I could be posting. In fact a visibly drunk man told me this morning that I was vision. I think he literally meant that he could see me, but hey it is something. There are several items and happenings and general musings that are blog worthy, and yet they remain in my brain and never make it to the written word. I need some sort of encouragement.

New Bum on the Block

So I thought I would share my latest Savannah bum story with you all, my adoring readers. Thankfully, Lindsay happened to be on the phone with me when this happened, and she can therefore verify the truth of this conversation.

I was walking to the local grocery story one Sunday while catching up with Lins, and I definitely was not in my finest nor had I showered. There was a man carrying on in front of me, but after you've lived in this town for awhile, these types have a tendency to become part of the everyday scenery. He slowed, and I began to gain on him. As I approached he slowly turned around and spotted me. At first I thought he was going to ask for money, but no that wasn't what he wanted. He asked for my number.

"I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend," I fibbed.

"That's ok. I have a girlfriend," he replied.

"I'm not sure if she'd like you asking me for my number then," I said in a joking, ok now don't get fresh with me manner.

"Well you tell your boyfriend something for me," he started. Then he paused to collect his obviously profound thoughts. As he began again, I had a feeling this was going to be good. "You tell your boyfriend, if beauty were a minute, you'd be an entire year."

Yes, I would be an entire year folks. You heard it here first, or actually Lindsay heard it first and then burst into much deserved laughter as my homeless suitor proceeded to cross the street in search of either his next conquest or his girlfriend.