I'm thankful for the Prt Sc key.

So here I am, home for Thanksgiving break. I'm getting my wisdom teeth taken out on Tuesday, though, so this year I'm probably just going to be thankful for Oxycodone.

I didn't actually get home until the wee hours of Sunday morning. I stopped with Costas and Katie at a Snarky Puppy recording session/concert/party thing in a tiny little swamp town. The band is HUGE, and they're all incredibly musicians, so the music was fantastic. You should definitely check them out (and I say this as a person who is always reluctant to listen to new music). We ended up getting hopelessly lost on the way back to civilization, hence why I got home so late.

Today I didn't do much besides sleep late and catch up on my Hulu. Well, I didn't quite catch up. I'm following too many shows. More importantly, I saw The Blind Side with my mom and my brothers, and it was really, really good! I wasn't too excited about it initially, and I don't even like football, but I loved the movie. It made me smile big time, and it still does when I think about it. Again with the recommendations. Sorry! But I don't think you'll regret seeing this movie, especially if you're from the south.

So tomorrow I'm getting my "hur did," as my brother Grant so eloquently put it, and I'm eating sushi for my "last meal." Yeah...my Thanksgiving dinner is going be a milkshake. :-/

In closing, I have some interesting information for you. Whenever you see a fake newspaper article in movies or on TV, do you ever wonder if they actually write out a whole pertinent article or just use random type? I used to wonder. Now I can tell you with absolutely confidence that it is the latter, and I have proof.

Here's a screen cap from recent episode of Heroes. It's an article that Bennet is tacking to the wall. Pay attention to the headline.











And I happened to pause it at just the right moment so that I saw this:












See?! The article itself has absolutely nothing to do with its title. I suppose it would be silly to flesh out an entire relevant article for a 1-second shot. Still, you really can't expect to get away with too many shenanigans in this dot-com society.

And just because it's funny, here's one more screen cap for you. This is what happens when you enter "how do" into Google. I can't even remember what I was searching for, but it was certainly none of these glorious gems. My favorite is "how do you get pregnant." Bahahahaha.



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MTLBYAKY

Many, many thanks to everyone who left supportive comments on my last post. Life hasn't gotten much easier since then, but I think it's time I come out from under the proverbial rock and continue with life.

After trudging through last week's classes (the ones that I actually attended), I drove home with Bret on Saturday. I didn't do much that day except drive and spend time with my mom. I did go see Good Hair with Ben that night, and OH MY GOODNESS. Hilarious. And surprisingly really interesting! I learned a lot. You should see it if it's still playing where you live.

On Sunday morning I had to get up around 7:30, even though I had only been asleep for about 3 hours. Ok, I didn't HAVE to get up, but my littlest brother was playing his first trombone solo in church. I wouldn't felt like a horrible (though admittedly well-rested) sister if I hadn't gone. He played well. It was nice to be back in my home church, especially during such a hard time. It was bizarre, though, to see my family listed in the "We express our deepest sympathy to:" section in the order of worship. I've always glanced through those names quickly, mostly out of curiosity, without fully comprehending the agony those people were feeling. But now I know. Yippy.

Some of my mom's family started coming over in the afternoon, so we spent most of the day talking and reminiscing and occasionally eating. I silently marveled at the fact that Uncle Buddy is outliving everyone. He's in his mid-eighties and still going relatively strong. It's pretty amazing. Per my mother's request, I was able to convince a few of my (amazingly generous) friends to drive down and sing with me for the services. We practiced for a while when Marissa and Costas arrived, and then we had a slumber party. Well, most of us. Bret ditched us for his boyfriend.

I woke up Monday morning dreading the day but feeling a sense of purpose. We made the sojourn to Covington, Bret with Marissa and Costas with me. The whole day felt like deja vu; we did almost everything the same as we did 3 years ago for Memom's funeral. The visitation and the service were terribly sad, but again, it was really nice to be surrounded by family and old family friends, many of whom I hadn't seen in a long time. I really can't capture in words the way I felt that morning. The proper words don't exist. I managed to make it though all of the songs (even "In the Garden," which we sang for Memom) without losing it. I know it would have been perfectly fine if I had lost it, but I guess I wanted to be strong for my mom.

After the service we hopped back into the cars, and some of us caravaned to Mississippi for the burial, stopping on the way for a Piccadilly lunch, of course. The graveside service was pretty short, and we sang again. The minister was nice but just a bit too cheesy-preachy for my taste. It's always strange being back in a familiar graveyard, visiting the graves of people you knew well in life. I'm not sure why, but it was oddly comforting seeing my grandparents together again. Well, oddly comforting in a way that makes me want to weep hysterically. Bleh. We drove back to school straight from there, and everyone else went home.

So there you go. I really don't mind if you didn't read all the way through this thing. I just wanted to type it out for memory's sake. Not that I could ever forget.

Now I must go trudge through two more days of school before I get to go home again for Thanksgiving. I'm so behind in school. If you're the praying sort, please help me pray for C's. Love, Kaitlyn.

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In Memoriam J.T.C.

I've been meaning to blog about the rest of my trip, but things never happen like they're supposed to in my blog. I got a call from my dad about 2 hours ago that rocked my world a little.

I can always sense when he's about to tell me that someone died. He uses this really gentle tone that he never brings out for any other reason. He didn't get three words out before I thought, "Oh no, which grandparent?"

Turns out it was my PawPaw. My mom's dad, in layman's terms. I'm not altogether surprised. His health has been gradually declining since we lost Memom (my grandmother, his wife) 3 years ago. He wasn't REALLY sick, though. They think it was probably a heart attack or something similar. It was quick, whatever it was. My mom's really glad about that; she says he would've hated to know he was sick. I'm terribly sad, of course, but I'm alright. I'm more worried about my mom now that she's lost both of her parents.

I never told him so, but PawPaw was always my hero, especially when I was little. I never knew anyone else who could do so many things. He could fix anything, and I mean ANYTHING. I thought he was Superman. I hope he knew how brilliant I thought he was. As much as I wish I had told him, how the heck do bring that up in conversation?

His brilliance wasn't necessarily intelligence. It was everything he managed to do with his life. He only went to junior college, but somehow he managed to accrue a sizable fortune. He worked as an electrician until he retired in his 60's. He was drafted by the Yankees as a pitcher but turned them down to play minor league ball because he wanted to bat. He was a race car driver and must have been pretty good; he has about a million racing trophies, a few of which my brothers and I talked him into giving us when we were little. He was in the Air Force and always stood proudly when my choir got to the Air Force part of the "Armed Forces Medley;" sometimes he would raise his arms victoriously, which would probably embarrass a normal granddaughter. (Oh shit, I have to sing that song tomorrow. Bleh.) Anyway, how the hell does one person do all of that in one lifetime? If I didn't know better I'd think I made at least half of it up.

Like most old people, though, he did have a few old-fashioned flaws. He was a bit ornery and stubborn as hell. He was also kind of racist and didn't seem to get the memo that it's not ok to use the N-word. Somehow you had to forgive him, though. His brashness was strangely endearing. Besides, he loved to watch Dancing With the Stars and American Idol. How randomly hilarious is that? Moreover, how could you not love an old guy who enthusiastically followed such cheesy reality shows? Oh, and he was rooting for Adam Lambert! My grandfather was a Glambert!! Haha. I watched American Idol last season just so I could talk about it with him.

I could go on about this guy for about 20 more pages, but my brain is tired now. Thanks for reading. You guys are great. :-) I'd appreciate it if you would send my family good thoughts, especially for the funeral on Monday. Prayers too, if you're into that sort of thing. If not, no worries. Prayers are totally optional. It helps just knowing you guys are out there.

<3

Yale trip, days 3,4, and 5

This has seriously been the greatest trip ever. I've been living this past week in an alternate reality where school does not exist and everything is amazing and adventurous. I wish I could stay here forever! Going back to school on Monday is going to be ROUGH.

On Thursday Camerata had our performance at the conference. THE performance. The one we've been gearing up for and kicking our own asses over since April.

(Yeah...I never finished this post. My bad. I was having too much fun.)

Yale trip, day 2

Omg, you guys. I love, love, love, LOVE it here! Everything is so beautiful and collegiate! The buildings are all 300 years old and look like castles. The leaves are changing colors because New England has a legitimate fall season. And Dunkin Donuts exists here!

I want to move here. By "here" I mean probably any city in New England. This is my favorite kind of environment. I feel so comfortable here, and I've only been here for a day. I really like that you're not required to smile at every stranger you pass. I know, I say this stuff every time I get out of the south. I'm such a Yankee at heart. Would anyone be too sad if I never came home?

My only problem with this place is that it was already dark at 5 pm. Lame!

Anywho, we got to sleep late this morning, and it was wonderful! I ended up getting out of bed around 11, which was earlier than anyone else in my room. Once I finally coaxed Marissa out of the room, we did the obligatory Dunkin Donuts thing. We sat at the window bar so we could watch New Haven over coffee. It was so picturesque, and I wasn't even creeped out that passersby were watching me eat!

Next we had about 30 minutes to explore Yale, so explore we did! We walked through Cross Campus, and I was like a kid in a candy store. Everyone looked so smart! There were people sitting in circles on the lawn, just like you see in movies (or on Gilmore Girls, as the case may be). I was such a nerd. I took pictures of Yale kids while squealing, "Look at them, sitting around looking all smart, talking politics and shit!" Marissa tried to burst my bubble by claiming that they were probably just talking about Facebook, to which I replied, "Let me have my fantasy, damnit!!" :-P

Then it was time to rehearse with Camerata (my choir that was invited to sing here at the National Collegiate Choral Organization biennial conference) in Hendrie Hall, where the Yale Glee Club rehearses!! Again, I was a total fangirl, taking pictures of the hall and creepin' on the Asian kids with violin cases. The Glee Club has group pictures from every year on the walls of their rehearsal room, just like my other choir has. So cool! We rehearsed for 2 hours, and toward the end the president of NCCO came in and said we sounded wonderful and that he couldn't wait to hear our performance. Omg!

Marissa and I raided the Yale bookstore after the rehearsal. I bought myself a sweatshirt (as usual) and pajama pants, and I got shirts for Grant and Lane. Now, equipped with Yale campus maps like the tourists we wish we weren't, I think we're going to find some dinner and see some nerdy Yale sights. I'll finish blogging when we get back.

------------

Well, after sitting around for an hour trying to pick a place to eat, Marissa, Cara, and I settled on Ivy Noodle, a decently legit Asian noodle house. My vegetable fried rice was really good, but my shrimp dumpling noodle soup was a little strange. Then we decided we wanted some ice cream, so we let Marissa's blackberry lead us several blocks in the cold weather to an ice cream shop that no longer exists. We did find ice cream eventually, and I came out with a cone three times larger than I was expecting.

Then I got to go touch the toe!!! We looked like morons trying to open the gate into Old Campus. After we tried pulling on it to avail, a girl came up behind us and used her key card. Facepalm. Then, after checking the names on a few statues (which was tricky in the dark), we found Theodore Dwight Woolsey. I touched his shiny toe while Marissa took a picture, and it was a glorious moment in my life. We knew we looked super-touristy, so any time a student passed I turned to Marissa and said something like, "Yeah, that guy's class is sooooo hard! I haven't even started my paper yet." Bahahaha. Then it took us forever to find an exit gate that was actually unlocked. We were really smooth.

By the way, does anyone else think it's funny that Harvard's motto is "Veritas," while Yale's is "Lux et Veritas"? It's like, oh, you've got truth? Well, we've got light AND truth. Hah! Nothing like one-upping your rival using Latin.

Now I'm blogging alone in my hotel room wearing nothing but my new Yale sweatshirt and pajama pants while everyone else is in Costas' room watching Die Hard. And now I'm done blogging. See you tomorrow, I hope!

Yale trip, day 1

I'm here!!!! Ok, I haven't actually seen Yale yet, but I'm in New Haven.

This morning we left school on a chartered bus at 5:30 AM and drove 5 hours to Dallas. Then we waited 3 more hours before boarding a plane to Hartford, CT. I sat between two strange men who didn't talk to me much. I was ok with that. I wanted to sleep. Best part? We didn't crash! Haha. Have I mentioned how much I hate planes? I've flown a million times, and I know that plane crashes are relatively rare, but I'm still always surprised when I survive a flight. I guess I'm morbid like that.

Oh, and it took my right ear approximately four hours to pop once we landed. FML.

Anywho, when we arrived in Hartford it was around 5 PM, and it was already dark outside! What gives?! Stupid daily savings time! At this point we were all starving, but we still had an hour-long bus ride to New Haven. We drove, we checked in to the Omni, I changed into real pants, and some of us went to 50-cent wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings. 'Twas fun. Later we chilled at a bar and looked each other's names up on urbandictionary.com. "Lucy" was my favorite (unless retarded). Hah!

Well, this post was boring and chronological. That's probably how they're going to be while I'm here. Now I'm watching Family Guy. Oops, did it again. Alas.

See you tomorrow (unless I'm too sleepy)!

The time has come, my little friends.

This is it, kids. The moment you've all been waiting for.

I'M GOING TO YALE TOMORROW!!!!

We're boarding a bus at 5:30 in the mother-lovin' morning. I will be extremely cranky. I won't have gotten much sleep. I won't get much sleep on the plane, either. But none of that matters. I can't, can't, can't, CAN'T wait to get there!

I've been looking forward to this trip for seven months. I have so many exciting shenanigans planned. You just don't even know. I want to spend three billion hours exploring the library. I want to see creepy, taxidermized Handsome Dan. I WANT TO TOUCH THE TOE! Gilmore Girls? Anyone? Oh, and let's not forget about my super secret side trip of awesome! Mwahahaha.

Oh, plus I'm going to be singing for thousands of the nation's best music educators in one of the 9 best choirs in the nation. There's that too. :-P

Sometimes my major really gets me down. You all know that. Sometimes I really hate it. I'm not even sure I want to use this music degree in my real life. Even still, music always comes through for me. When absolutely nothing else in my life is certain, when I start to feel like all I do is wait around for something that will never happen, when everything (and/or everyone) disappoints me, music is always there. Some people drink when they get down. I prefer to listen to music I love and remind myself that I kick ass. :-)

Anywho, that's all the bloggin' you'll get out of me tonight. Please let me know if I ever get too vague and cryptic about my personal life around here. This is not, I repeat, NOT livejournal. I got a new blog for a reason. It's perfectly alright to say, "What the hell are you talking about in such and such sentence?"

I think I'm going to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. I can do that now that Michael Aranda's "The Nonsense Song" taught me how. :-P I'll dropkick your face if you touch my pizza, suckaz.

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