A Solemn Vow

The time has come, children. I know I say this all the time, and you're tired of it, but this time, it is for real: I HAVE TO START EATING BETTER! The thing that pushed me over the edge was that deep-fried zinger I had at Bard's. Let me put it to you like this: Monday for supper I had a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and fries. Tuesday for supper I had chicken nuggets and fries. Last night for supper I had 5 Guys Burger and fries. Today for lunch, I had a 4-way at Goldstar. For supper, I had a cheeseburger at Bard's (but no fries, see, I'm already eating healthier!) and a fried zinger for dessert. I feel like a beached whale. I am probably the greasiest, fattest woman alive. I have 10 chins. Honest. I saw them in the mirror while I was giving myself a pre-blog pep-talk. I'm writing this blog to inform you that I shan't be accompanying you to dinner anymore (for the time being, at least not to my usual eateries of choice), so don't ask. You know I'm weak! Don't offer me any candy or cake either (unless it's those macaroons, Sarah, you know I can't say no to those) because you know I'll take them and scarf them down without a second thought. I'm a fat kid. Candy is my favorite thing. If one was to look at the pictures on my camera, you would find that the majority of them is of food. Why do I take pictures of food? I have a sickness, people!

I, Alli G, do solemnly swear to refrain from eating food that has to be dabbed with a paper towel in order to remove grease puddles before eating. I also vow to not eat anymore deep-fried anythings, unless of course they are mini-corndogs, that is the one exception. I vow to go back to my earlier vow of eating at least one serving of vegetables a day (how adult of me) and refraining from indulging in those delectable breakfast pastries known as poptarts. Welcome to hell.

Daggum dogwood

Look! He's growing! We didn't think we would ever see the day, but the little feller has perked right up and is reaching for the sky!

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The Night of the Living Dead

It's not just a movie anymore, children, I experienced it first hand Tuesday night. Before you go talking to Doug Bear, let me tell you how it really went down:

So, there I was...tired as hell from a long day of work and a long night at class. I had a headache, of course, so that wasn't helping matters. Before I could do any relaxing, I had to voiceboard about mountain top removal for my history of Appalachia class. "What I found interesting about this week's reading was that there are no more mountains in Appalachia." Finally, around 10 pm (which was already way past my bedtime), I settled in to watch an episode of Justified, thinking that would lift the ole spirits. Well, that was a disappointment. Boyd Crowder was only in the episode for about a minute! Giving up on Tuesday, I finally decided that I might as well try to get some sleep. Maybe sleep would be the answer. So I nuzzled in, pulled the blanket up over my head, my arm under my pillow, my Bori Cat by my side, "Nazr Mohammed, Jeff Brassow, Gimel Martinez, Jamal Mashburn, Travis Ford..." And I was asleep.

Now, those who know me know I can sleep through anything. I can sleep through alarm clocks, cat fights, thunderstorms, earthquakes, you name it. But, I'm telling you, children, there's something I can't sleep through, and that's the frozen, benumbed, piercing, frigid, penetrating, glacial touch of Doug Bear's DEAD FOOT in the middle of the night. His dead foot shot me right out of my dead sleep. He said I hollered as if someone had stabbed me. Why, they might as well had! Same damn principle. Attack a poor woman suffering from migraines in her sleep. And then laugh about it! The gall of that man!

I'm gonna get him back, though. Messin' with sasquatch.

I Hate Snakes

One of my earliest childhood memories involves a snake and may explain why, to this day, I vehemently despise them...

There I was, a young lass of 3 or 4, walking hand-in-hand with my mama to the top of the hill to meet my cousins at the bus stop. Though the driveway did have gravel, it was mostly dirt, so I was able to wear my Minnie Mouse house shoes. You remember the ones...with the big plastic head on the front? They were radical. Anyway, I'm hoofing it up the hill with my mom when I feel something tug on Minnie's head, then something cold touch my skin. I looked down and screamed bloody murder. It was a green snake crawling up my leg! Aaaah! Traumatized. And that, my friends, is why I hate snakes.

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Things I Learned in Dwarf

Beetle had her first hamburger when she was 14. They had always raised cattle, but never slaughtered the cattle for meat; instead, the family raised the cattle for milk or traded them.

Beetle had her first pop when she was around 8 years old. Her daddy brought it home. It was orange pop--either Nehi or Crush, she can't remember the brand exactly. What an excellent pop for your first ever soda experience!

At the 50th wedding anniversary for Great Grandma Maude and Great Grandpa Austin, Aunt Kathy said to her grandmother, "Wow, Grandma, how exciting, to be married for 5o years." To which Great Grandma replied, "50 years of PURE HELL."
.....as a follow-up, let it be know that ole "Goose Shit," as he so lovingly called her, did love her husband, and 2 weeks after his death was even overheard saying, "I kinda miss the ole feller."

Beetle remembers eating her first graham cracker. It was at the county fair. She was about 7 or 8 and her Granny Leona had taken them all down to the fair. They rode down in a wagon. Leona went into a store and came back out with a jar of marshmallow creme and a box of graham crackers. To this day, this is one of Beetle's favorite treats.

Go Big Blue!

Well, my friends, our little Wildcats lost last night. No #8 banner in Rupp...this year. I'm just sayin', wait til next year, children! Though the loss was tough, the Wildcats had an extraordinary run and I loved every minute of it (well, except for those losses to Ole Miss and Arkansas, that was a little much). At any rate, this team showed an unbelievable amount of heart, and the Big Blue Nation loves them to death. This team has reinvigorated our love (but honestly, were we ever without love for the Cats). No one in Kentucky will ever look at a pair of Jorts without immediately thinking of Josh Harrellson. This is the stuff legends are made of my friend--heart, toughness, and denim. Go Big Blue!