when God closes a door, he opens a beach house

It is my final night of spring break, and I am sitting at my computer. But oh, what a great week it has been.

I spent Sunday to Saturday morning at my friend Hannah's beach house on the Isle of Palms. Several things:

1. this was the first year I didn't just go home and veg out on the sofa. Which may have been a mistake because apparently we have a 3D TV now.
2. I was worried that because I wasn't getting a break from the people I see everyday, I would grow to hate them after a day or two of sharing a house with them.
3. The high all week was about 65 degrees. Every time I went out on the beach I had a sweater or a blanket.

don't you want to just dive right in?

BUT it turned out to be really fun.  There were always new people in the house bringing food and games and conversation. I accrued a whole library of new music and made some new friends. And although it sucked to be at the beach and be unable to apricate*, the chill doesn't change the look of the stars at night. 

and here is my latest favorite:




*Balderdash tells me this means "to sunbathe" but my spell check says it is not a word. Dictionary.com confirms it is, indeed, an English word, although the most popular usage was in the 1690s. Go figure.

you really got me

Charleston now has a Forever 21 on King St. This bugs me a lot. They put it where there used to be a Saks, and I think the trade significantly influenced the overall feel of downtown shopping. I felt the same way when they put in a Rack Room Shoes where the Banana Republic used to be. It's just... tacky. King St is not cheap tacky, it's rich tacky. Like Tommy Bahama and Lilly Pulitzer.

Now, I don't shop at these places. That's not why it bugs me. I barely shop at all. The most I ever do is gaze into the windows at perfectly dressed mannequins and wish I had more money to throw around. Sometimes I walk in and check the clearance racks while trying to avoid the attention of the people working in the store. And still more frequently, I simply walk past each store and think about which character from Arrested Development the clothes would most suit. GOB. Lindsey. Lucille. George Michael.

When Forever 21 opened they had a free gift card promotion, so it was impossible to get into the first week. But when I finally let myself wander in there (cheap clothes! even if they do tend to fall apart and have a horrible return policy) I was astounded. It is at least THREE times bigger than the one at the mall near my house. There is a section for about five or six different "looks" including what appears to be "Americana," hobo-chic, "nautical," and neon spray paint. They have a men's section and a kids section. They have enough shoes to shoe an army of overlarge centipedes. It is, in a word, overwhelming.

The first time I went was simply a reconnaissance mission. I wandered around for a bit and left. The check out line was at least 50 people long. I wish I were exaggerating.

On Friday my mitten-quotes professor had too many technical difficulties trying to get the projector to work, so he let us out of class early. About 40 minutes early.

I decided to take a walk on this beautiful Friday morning, and found myself down at Forever 21. I puttered around for a bit, looking and touching and trying and pricing. I remembered hearing someone tell me that all these clothes are cheap because they are made by poor little children in cramped sweat shops, and I looked at the items in my hands and thought I can't buy these, that would be awful. Then I remembered what Kala told me after I talked to her about the sweat shop kids (awesome band name? or too evil?): "Maybe if you buy more of the clothes, they can pay the kids more money!"

So on that faulty logic, I left having purchased a new shirt and some cute slip-on shoes.


Later that day, while wearing my new cuteness, I got whistled at by some douchey-looking guys at Andolini's. I didn't know whether to be flattered, creeped out or indignant. It's just something that happens when you put a pizza place next to the school gym/weight room: the guys get hungry after a workout and surge with "I-can-conquer-the-world" endorphins/adrenaline and "Oh-look-at-that-chick" testosterone. It was really funny to hear them try to whistle as I walked past. It came out more like whewpppthhpoooppthh.

Question to the male species: Why do you do this? Do you expect me to hear the whistle, turn around, and say "Oh, that was for me? Thank you. You look cute as well. Let's date. May I sit on your lap while you hang out with your equally repugnant male friends? You sure do know how to get a lady."

I can't believe they have pepper imps

I've posted 100 posts! YAY!

OK, bigger news. I went to Harry Potter Land. Or the Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Islands of Adventure. Also known as the Harry Potter theme park. Or "Rowling Mecca." 


Look, proof:

me being a dork outside a quill shop. OK, so I was a dork everywhere.

It was amazing. All three days of it. All three butterbeers, all five times I rode the Hogwarts Castle ride, all the stores I went in, all the lines I waited in (which, by the way, are wayyy shorter at the end of the day. duh. Took us all weekend to come to that realization), all the hours of driving and walking it took to get there. All amazing.

Here is a list of the things I couldn't stop myself from buying: 

• a quaffle. Seriously. A "regulation" Quidditch ball from the Quidditch Supply Store, Dervish and Banges.
• a Durmstrang t-shirt. it's really comfy and a little badass
• two packs of peppermint toads. they are delicious. and they were b.o.g.o. free
• chocolate frogs. almost a pound of chocolate- the frog is about as big as the palm of my hand. And by some fluke, I got two trading cards!
• acid pops. they promise to burn a hole through your tongue in the book. I am afraid to attempt. 
• sugar quills! candies "you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next"
• pumpkin juice. It's delicious. I would drink it everyday if I could, like they do in the books. It tastes a bit like spiced apple cider, but of course more pumpkin-y. Rest assured it is not 100% squeezed-from-a-pumpkin-straight-from-the-patch juice.  Which I would also enjoy immensely. I only drank half of it so that I could attempt to replicate it's wonderfulness. Because I am turning into my mother: "I could make that!"
• butterbeer. it's frothy, it's amber colored, it is so many synonyms for delicious. Like cream soda with a hint more sarsaparilla and a shot of something sweet and creamy like frosting. And the mug is awesome. 

                                         

I highly recommend taking a pilgrimage to visiting this theme park.

The Hogwarts ride is pretty scary though, so if you have really little kids, they might want to stay away from it. Unless they like spiders in their face and almost getting their soul sucked out. And getting spit at by something in the forbidden forest. And getting tossed upside down by the Whomping Willow. And intense Quidditch sequences. Actually, who doesn't enjoy a good Quidditch sequence?

i know i'm back in chucktown

I know I'm back in Charleston because...

1. my legs are killing me (walking walking walking. Actually, now I've passed the pain and achy stage and I have moved on to the nice legs phase. Score.)
2. I stopped biting my nails! But that'll come back once homework gets serious again.
3. I go through clean clothes like Kleenex- I must wear at least three outfits a day, because I just keep sweating through stuff. Or changing to play glow frisbee in the dark!
4. I haven't slowed down since I got here. Funny how I thought I'd get a break once I moved back...
5. if you stand still in one place long enough, you will get dripped on. By something.
6. there is already sand all over everything. Everything. It's in my wireless mouse. (?)
   
7. I keep forgetting to eat. Which is weird, but usually happens when I'm really busy and stop listening to my body (it's usually whining about sweating and achy legs...)

Anyway, I hope after this week things will finally slow down a bit. Or at least work out a rhythm.

NOW, off to my first day of classes for Family Development and Human Sexuality.


Those are separate classes. Just to be clear.

praying mantis

This morning, I woke up early. But that's not important.

I was going to my youngest brother's graduation from fifth grade. After fourteen years with at least one DeBuys at our elementary school, we were finally saying goodbye. But that's not important.

It was raining, which completely destroyed my idea for an outfit. I really wanted to wear these brown leather riding-style boots with a cute dress, but it's a monsoon outside so leather is a bad idea. Anyway, I decided to just wear some jeans and a top and really high wedges to keep my feet away from the water. That's not important.

The point of this story is that my mother told me I looked like a praying mantis.

I took it as slightly insulting (a BUG. an ugly, man-eating, monstrous, green thing). She insists it was a compliment(because she thinks they're "elegant" and my legs are long[which she also insists is a compliment and not some comment about the abnormal proportions of my body]).

Thoughts?