Fall Semester Discoveries: Year 2

I absolutely cannot believe it's already the end of my 3rd semester here at State. Last year went by fast, but certainly not this fast. Now that I have a job and even more things to do besides just go to class, my weeks are always flying by! Where in the WORLD is my college career going?!

As always, college life is weird. Weird and hectic and occasionally scary, but mostly fantastic.

What did I discover this semester?

*Big girl life is HARD. Getting up early, going to class, going straight to work, going to a meeting right after work, cooking dinner, finally starting homework at 8pm, and collapsing on my bed as soon as I possibly can. Paying bills, paying for college, paying for groceries, paying for gas. I'm always exhausted. Partying on Friday night is hardly even an option anymore because I'm usually asleep by 11, if not earlier. It's hard to explain to my carefree, never-worked-a-day-in-their-life friends (that I love dearly), but that's okay. This lifestyle has put me on fairly normal eating & sleeping schedules. My insomnia doesn't even come around a lot anymore. HALLELUJAH.

*Here's what I've concluded about the life of the guy living above me: he never has homework or any type of responsibility, he's high a lot, he walks around in high heels, and he's a sex addict. And you're like, Alexa he's a guy. Duh. No. He has a problem. And we play a nice little game. I throw my sneakers at the ceiling and he's more obnoxious on purpose. Fun times.

*I never thought I'd meet anyone that loves Christmas time as much as I do. Then I met the gay guy living in the apartment down the hall from me. I absolutely adore him. 

*Don't wear high heels for 14 hours. You will end up in a medical boot forever and will have to do ridiculous physical therapy exercises to re-teach your muscles/tendons how to function. It's. Not. Worth. It. No matter how cute you look.

*Why is the stereotype for elementary ed majors girls who are stupid and looking for MRS degrees? Well. A girl in my elementary ed math class said that if you have $1,000 and you spend $200, you have $900 left. So. There's that.

*The guys here at MSU are some serious door holders. I'm a pretty big feminist, so I am really okay with opening a door myself, but MAN. It's almost adorable. They're always confused when I thank them so nicely. I just love kindness! And it's a whole new world to me. Before college, the only men that held a door open for me were my dad and brother. Maybe a good guy friend or two, and my prom dates. Seriously. That tells you what kind of guys I dated/wasted time on in high school.

*Got ya some serious baby fever? Have you passed the adorable Christmas baby outfits in Walmart one too many times? Come to work with me for a day. An HOUR. Your baby fever will disappear and you will suddenly be birth control's #1 fan. And that's all I have to say about that.

*Things that contribute to every man's "girls are psycho" campaign, courtesy of the girl sitting next to me in one of my classes: "He wanted to have lunch with a friend. So basically he's cheating on me." "AND THEN HE TALKED TO HIS MOM FOR 30 MINUTES!" "I don't get why he doesn't want to spend every second with me." "Oh yeah, I was yelling at him for taking too long to text me back." I'm so glad my mother raised me to be an independent, laid back, not-normal girl. I said a prayer for her boyfriend every time I heard her speak. Bless it.

*Rose Cacibauda's very bad luck continues to shine down on me, and this is confirmed every time I get assigned the WORST GROUP OF PEOPLE EVER for a group project. Which is every frickin time.

*I've never been a "live with no regrets" kind of person. I regret everything. I even get buyers remorse over little things. I regret asking too many questions, caring too much, staying up too late, saying how I feel, EVERYTHING. It's ridiculous. Until now, because I've suddenly decided to be one of those "no regrets" people. Ate two cookies instead of one? Oh well. Let your beliefs get you a C on a perfect essay because the teacher asked for your opinion on women's rights/liberation and didn't like it? (I AM LIVING IN THE 1950s, PEOPLE) Too damn bad. Made yourself look stupid? Story of my life. The sun is still going to shine tomorrow. And that's that.

*At the end of each semester, I'm always terrified that life will throw me another curve ball and the next semester won't be as great as the last. There are things about last year that I miss so much, but this semester has been so great. I thought I would have my whole life figured out after high school. I was SO wrong. It's certainly confusing and chaotic, but I wouldn't trade these years for anything!

A sweet old lady sat down next to me in Strange Brew one day and said the best thing I've ever heard. "Baby, life is simple. Always hug your parents, and give everyone your whole heart. Even if it feels dumb."

Amen to that. She didn't mention anything about using a lot of sarcasm, but I'm sure she just forgot to throw that one in there. :)

I can't wait to see what next semester has in store for me.

Happy Finals Week and Happy Holidays!

Thankful

This is my favorite time of year. I just absolutely love everything about it. I really love that it reminds me to tell people aloud that I'm thankful for them. I always think about what I'm thankful for at night when I'm saying my prayers, but I don't always actually say it to other people. Because that would require participating in the whole feelings thing, and we all know I try to avoid that. I'm snarky, sarcastic, and I basically offend everyone in this entire state when I express my political opinions, but I really do have a big heart with good intentions somewhere deep down inside of me. And that heart really is thankful! Like overwhelmingly thankful. So here it is.

I'm thankful for being a Cacibauda and having a Van Acker personality. Everyone says they are thankful for their family, but I'm particularly thankful for being a Cacibauda because we are fantastically different. I never dread seeing my siblings or going home for a holiday break. A call from a cousin/aunt/uncle doesn't automatically mean someone has died, they usually just want to chat or catch up. I'm not counting down the days until I can move far away from my family so I can only come home for Christmas occasionally. I love and adore my parents, and my brother and sister are my bestest friends in the whole wide world. We love each other AND we like each other. I didn't realize this was something to be thankful for until I started listening to my friends talk about their families.

I'm thankful for my job. It's the ideal college job. No nights or weekends, we get holiday breaks, and my boss is so understanding and flexible. Not to mention I have made some of the sweetest friends there, and the girl that works in the younger 4s room with me is absolutely fantastic! It's my favorite part of every day, other than the part where I collapse on my bed for the night. It's shown me what I'm good at and there's nothing else I could ever imagine doing forever. It's cheesy, but those kids are making me a better person every day. Even when they make me want to PULL MY HAIR OUT.

I'm thankful for the 5th graders I tutored this semester. I really did learn so many things! 1) I NEVER WANT TO TEACH 5TH GRADE. 2) As much as I hate Ocean Springs, I must admit that they have a fantastic school district. Going to a Starkville public school is heartbreaking and proves that the education system in Mississippi is not okay. If you thought my education rants were going to end soon, sorry! I will never stop fighting for those sweet kids. They deserve so much better. 3) Did I mention that 5th grade is NOT for me?

With that being said, I'm thankful I grew up in Mississippi. I grew up surrounded by my extended family and grew up with my cousins. I wouldn't trade my childhood here for anything, but my family has absolutely no desire to stay in MS. I am quite often counting down the years until we can all move and settle down in a place that has seasons. :) I've regretted not taking a year off to move to a different state and go to college there, until this year. Maybe God still has me here because someone has to spread the word about what our terrible education system is doing to these poor kids. I might as well put my big mouth and big heart to use while I'm stuck here, right?

I'm thankful for my sorority. I have always been a non-girly, anti-sorority kind of girl. The idea of being around a big group of girls used to make my stomach hurt. After I absolutely loved living on a hallway with a bunch of girls last year, I figured I'd give it a go and do something way out of my comfort zone. It has turned out to be one of the best decisions I've made and I absolutely love those girls! I still get to be the same well-rounded, sarcastic Alexa and I get to do amazing things to help support St. Jude at the same time. And we all know how much I love babies. If I'm paying for my friends, I'm certainly not paying enough. Love you ladies! DLAM.

I'm thankful for my friends. All of them. My elementary ed friends, my sorority friends, my work friends, my hometown friends, and my new friends too. And thank God for my very bestest friends, because I could not survive without their company during all-nighters, hilarious snapchats, and hugs after a bad day. You know who you are. Thanks for putting up with me!

I'm thankful for the little things that are really big things. Nice people, a coffee pot that starts making coffee before I'm even out of bed, sarcasm, cold weather, a good sense of humor, sweater leggings, and the freedom to wear sweater leggings as pants. Yep. I said it.  

I have everything I could ever need, and I'm just thankful.

I hope everyone is loving this time of year as much as I am! Hug your loved ones!

Fat Talk Free

I'm back on my soapbox. But don't worry, it's nothing political this time. :)
I'm writing a paper on the idea of beauty and how ridiculous it has become in today's society. It's been very thought provoking and I've actually really liked writing it. 

Wanna know what is even more annoying than coming home after an awful day and realizing there aren't any pickles in my fridge?

The word fat. The word ugly. People who think they are pretty enough to call someone else ugly. People who think they are skinny enough to call someone else fat. People who think they are the Fashion Police and get to decide what someone else is/isn't allowed to wear based on their weight/looks/skin color/etc.

Are you catching what I'm throwing, peeps?

Let's just start with the word fat. Who in their right mind decided that it's okay to call yourself and others fat? Everyone thinks they are fat. I get it, I do. My closet is behind two HUGE sliding doors, and both have HUGE mirrors on them. So every morning when I'm looking for a shirt to wear, I hear my mirror screaming LOOK AT EVERY SINGLE FLAW ON YOUR BODY. G-R-O-S-S. I roll my eyes, find a shirt, and tell myself I'm an idiot for ruining my Achilles tendon and making it literally impossible for me to workout for at least 3-4 months. (At the BEST time of the year. My holiday 5 will now be a holiday 20. Awesome.) But I'm over it in like 50 seconds. Why? Because I LOVE FOOD. I'm Italian. I'm a Cacibauda. It's not in our genetic makeup to be skinny.

So if everyone thinks they are fat, even those teeny tiny little girls, WHY do I constantly hear:
Yeah, she's so fat.. she's like a size 4. Ew. 
WHY is she wearing that? Doesn't she know she's too fat for that?
Just because it comes in your size, that doesn't mean you should buy it.  
Fat rolls and love handles are NOT cute.

Wanna know what I have to say about that? A big SHUT THE HELL UP.

Who are you to judge and name call? How dare you criticize someone just because they don't look or dress the way you do. Calling someone fat is always the first insult someone can think of. Especially ex boyfriends and mean girls. I can brush it off because I truly don't give a shit, but not everyone can do that. It really hurts people! And yes, every bully's comeback is the same three words: freedom of speech.

Why yes, you do have the freedom to be a total asshole. However, Jesus and I would like it if you would keep your asshole personality and disgusting comments to yourself.

Now let's talk about this whole clothing issue. Number of times I've seen "LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS, WHINE WHINE WHINE!" on my Facebook Newsfeed: 4,907. Number of times I've rolled my eyes, muttered a cuss word, and continued to wear leggings as pants: 4,907.

Let's get one thing straight: TO US, LEGGINGS ARE PANTS. Why do so many of us wear them just about every day? Because they are REALLY FREAKIN COMFORTABLE. They are almost as comfortable as not wearing pants, but they are more socially acceptable. And that's all I have to say about that. (PS- Legging lovers, I found cheap SWEATER LEGGINGS here. You're welcome.)

I was lucky enough to grow up with a mom who never criticized me or called me ugly/fat. I had friends whose moms would make them go on diets and would tell them that they were too fat. My mom made me be healthy, but she did it in a positive, encouraging way. My sister and I used to call each other fat or ugly when we were younger. They were our fighting words. I brushed it off, but she never did. I regret every second of it, but the jokes on me because Zoe is the skinnier and prettier sister who looks flawless even with no makeup on. There is absolutely no one I envy as much as I envy her. She has perfect teeth, a perfect smile, a flat stomach, and perfect curls. She also doesn't realize that she's perfect in every way, which makes me want to beat the crap out of her.

But lets be real here. I don't care about looks. Obviously. I mean, it's a miracle if I have time to brush my hair in the morning. I am confident that the right people are going to love me because of who I am, not because I woke up extra early to fix my hair. I don't care what you look like. You know what they say.. If you have a big heart but like to cuss and speak fluent sarcasm too, COME SIT BY ME. Okay fine. I'm the only one that says that. But at least I mean it.

You are so much more than your hair color or that spot on your face that showed up the day before an important picture/interview/date. You are so much more than your outfit or a stupid number that pops up when you stand on that stupid scale. Don't tell yourself or let others tell you that you are "forever alone" because of your physical appearance. Someone is going to love you because of your heart and your personality.

This doesn't mean don't be healthy. Be healthy! Exercise. Eat right. I LOVE exercising and eating right. (Too bad I also LOVE dessert.) But you should be doing all of that because you want to, not because you think you are fat and ugly and gross and have to do it to make someone love you. Because you aren't all of those things and you don't have to do it for that reason. And I know it's easier to say all of this and write a paper about it than to actually make yourself believe it. Trust me, I know. I wake up every morning and sigh when I'm forced to look in the mirror. Seriously.  

I am going to be so much skinnier when I get out of college. I look awful. Why don't I wake up looking like a million bucks? I hate my thick, curly hair. I bet Audrey Hepburn didn't look like this in the morning. Have those crayon shavings been in my hair since I left work yesterday?

But then I pour myself a cup of magic also known as coffee, and I make myself say a few good things about myself or my life.

I have a family that loves me to pieces. I am smart. I have a job that I LOVE. My hair is really pretty sometimes. I have my mom's eyes. I have running water, food, a car, and an education. I have 12 sweet and obnoxious 3 & 4 year olds that are excited to see me every afternoon. I have 14 pairs of Christmas socks.

No, Seventeen Magazine is not calling me everyday begging me to be on the cover of their next issue. And no, my stomach is not as flat as the gum/playdoh/God-only-knows-what-it-is that has decided to permanently live on the bottom of my shoe. But life is too damn short to miss out on dessert, or going out with my friends on the weekends, or eating something my mom makes that's really good. And lets be real, here. We're Italian and she's Rose Cacibauda. Everything she makes is good. Those stupid magazines will say, "Is going partying with your friends and eating Taco Bell after really worth all the calories you consume that night?"

And to that I say ABSOLUTELY. It's worth every single calorie.

I am so much more than a number, and so are you.

My sorority promotes something called being "Fat Talk Free." You are supposed to encourage your friends to only say good things about themselves, and not allow them to call themselves fat. This short little video is such a good reminder!

Love and big hugs always. :)

Breaks, Boots, & Birthdays

Someone please help a girl out and tell me how it is already NOVEMBER!

I would also like someone to tell me why every week of my miserable years in middle school/high school felt like a century, and every week of my awesome years in college feels like one day.

I have been dying to blog, but I just haven't had any time! So let me catch you up on my silly, beautiful life.

1) My first time going home this semester was the beginning of October during my fall break. I drove home on an early Thursday morning and secretly stopped at the airport to pick up JT. My parents had NO idea, and we had been keeping it a secret for a week or two. They were already excited about me finally being able to come home, so I knew they would be ecstatic when they realized they were going to have all three of their babies under the same roof for the long weekend. For Dad, he hid under pillows and blankets. For Mom, JT was waiting around the corner and I told Mom I had brought home a friend who needed a place to stay. Technically, I wasn't lying. She thought I secretly had a boyfriend. Go figure. JT can't usually come home any time other than Christmas and summer, so they were beyond excited and so surprised. It was a weekend filled with Cacibauda chaos: football game, band contest, celebrating Dad's birthday, and visiting family. We laughed and ate so much, the two things we do best. There is nothing I love more than having all five of us together. I am so blessed to have a close-knit family that truly loves being together. It was a perfect and much needed weekend!

2) Do you ever have those moments where you talk yourself into something? You know, eating that extra cupcake even though you shouldn't. Or watching another episode of How I Met Your Mother when you know you should be writing your paper. Or talking yourself into wearing heels for 14 hours.

I'm young! I already wore these high-heeled, leather boots for 6 hours during tailgating/the football game, but I can wear them out to Sig Ep tonight! It will be fine. They don't hurt that bad and I may not even stay out that late. These are my glory days! I'm young! I'm free! I can do anything!

Yeah.. um.. no. Thanks to my "glory days" pep talk, I'm wearing this until at least Christmas.

CHRISTMAS. I thought this was going to be a two week kind of thing. They originally had me on crutches, but I went back after 24 hours and demanded a boot.

I had my first follow-up appointment and he said it already takes a long time for an Achilles tendon to heal, but it's going to take even longer since I'm such an active person. So.. there's that. I had a mini panic attack over the fact that I can't exercise. This is a very serious problem since cooking/baking/eating is a top priority in Casa de Cacibauda. ESPECIALLY around the holidays. If you think I'm exaggerating, let me just tell you that instead of putting "live, laugh, love" on cute family things, my mom puts "eat, laugh, love." Dead serious. So, lots of fun times with the boot. Never a dull moment around here!

3) My little sister is 17. And a senior in high school. Did you hear me? MY LITTLE SISTER IS 17 YEARS OLD AND IS GRADUATING IN MAY. (She's graduating a year early. Just in case you are confused.) I know she's only two and a half years younger than me, but I think I just pretend she is way younger. I forget that she's all grown up. She watches rated R movies, goes out with her friends, DRIVES HER OWN CAR. She's 17. She gets in a car with a BOY and goes to prom and occasionally thinks our parents are trying to ruin her life. She's old. It's weird.

November 1995

Having a sister is one of those things that no one else really understands unless they have a sister too. I didn't really know you could love and care about someone so much and want to wring their neck at the same time.

November 1995

Zoe and I used to fight ALL. THE. TIME. She's being mean to me! She called me a mean name. She gave me that and then TOOK IT BACK! SHE'S AN INDIAN GIVER! Moooommmm, she just called me an Indian giver! 

Summer 2000?

We fought over everything, but always made up when we realized we were the only two people in our room and we both needed someone to play with. I'm pretty sure I'm so good at sharing because I was forced to share a room with Zoe for 10 years, which meant I also had to share my toys/clothes/shoes/hair things/everything. Having a sister means all of your stuff is pretty much fair game.

October (I don't know the year)

Having a sister that looks A LOT like you also means people will always think you are twins. Even Zoe thought we were twins when we were little. She was confused and heart broken when I went off to Kindergarten and she didn't get to go too. We used to roll our eyes every time someone would say, "Oh! Are you girls twins?!" But I don't really mind hearing it anymore. Zoe is flawless. If people think I look like her, it's a compliment.

April 2009

I just don't see the resemblance.. :)

Having a sister that looks like you also comes in handy on "Twin Day" during spirit week in high school. If nothing else, it was worth keeping her around for that, right?

September 2010

More than all of that though, having a sister means having the bestest friend in the entire world for life. Everything my parents ever said about my siblings being my best friends is true. It's like having built-in best friends. All of my childhood memories include her by my side. Literally. We were basically attached at the hip. We did the same things and wore the same outfits in different colors.

We were a team. We are a team. I could kill her sometimes, but I'd kill for her in a heartbeat. It's usually the younger sister that's supposed to envy the older sister, but I have always envied her. She has beautiful, perfect curls and a radiant smile that lights up an entire room. She can pull off any kind of outfit, and I always tell people I have ELBOMS (Everything Looks Better On My Sister) Syndrome. Everything is just so much better when she's around.

September 2012

I couldn't imagine having to go through life without a sister. Without MY sister. I love having full conversations with pictures/emojis. I love walking out of my room in the mornings when I'm home and hearing her sarcastically say, "You look cute," and knowing it's said with love. Mostly. I love that she always lets me sleep with her when we hear a noise upstairs or watch something scary. And I really love having her closet to raid when I don't have anything to wear.

But mostly I just love her.

Happy Birthday, my sweet ZoZo! I couldn't ask for a better sister and best friend. I absolutely cannot wait for you to live in Starkville next fall! We are going to do SO MANY FUN ACTIVITIES.

I love you. Oh, and please don't kill me for the old pictures. They are cute!

:)

Love, Your Sweet Peas

*Warning: Sappy Alexa is writing this post. Snarky, sarcastic Alexa will be back soon.* :)
*The amount of sappiness this post contains may or may not have something to do with the fact that I haven't been home in two months, I'm homesick, and have "My Little Girl" by Tim McGraw on repeat.*

My siblings and I have spent our entire lives hearing, "Are you Mr. Joe's daughter/son?!" on a regular basis. It is impossible to go anywhere with my dad without hearing someone say, "Mr. Joe!" Even when we are miles and miles away from Mississippi. This is not an exaggeration, people. It happened to my parents on their honeymoon in Hawaii, and it even happened to us when we were walking through a museum in Washington DC a few years ago. Basically, if any of us want to make a quick trip to the store, or anywhere for that matter, we don't take my dad. Sorry, Dad. :)

When I moved to Starkville, I was silly enough to think that if I didn't go near the music buildings or the band hall, I wouldn't hear much of that anymore. False. I still hear it all the time.

Sometimes it's really funny and really awkward. A few weeks ago, I met some people who are in band. We were talking about high school band and stuff, and they asked where I went to high school. I said Ocean Springs and they looked at each other. Then, they said, "That band is HUGE. We used to hate going to contests and stuff that you guys went to because you were all SO GOOD! I heard they have a really good band director too. But UGH, Ocean Springs is so good. Did you like your director?"

"Uhh.. err.. welllll.."

See? Awkward.

I never understood what the big deal is. I know he's Mr. Joe and has taught everyone and their mom, aunt, and grandma. I know he has won a bajillion awards and changed even more lives than that. I know the OSHS band is known as one of the best bands in Mississippi and is known for playing the BEST arrangement of our national anthem because of him. (Fun fact: that's his arrangement. It makes people cry and is known by EVERYONE.) (Next fun fact: I like to brag about him because he's too modest to tell anyone any of this.)

He also tends to act like a child. So don't take his mad death glare too seriously. ;)

I guess I never paid much attention to how big of a deal he is because he's not Mr. Joe to me. He's Dad. (or Daddy when I want something. ;) Just kidding. Maybe.) He taught me how to ride a bike and how to play baseball. He's the reason I am so good at playing "Name That Tune" and am always helping my friends who are in music appreciation or music theory classes. He happily played along with my "hair salon" game while my sister and I put hair clips and bows on his head, even though I'm sure he was thanking God for giving him a son the whole time. He would tuck me into bed at night and we would do our nightly ritual. We'd say our prayers, and then do our eskimo, fishy face, and butterfly kisses. I would giggle and giggle, and then we would exchange I love yous. After I said I loved him too, he would say, "I love you three." We'd make the number go higher and higher, until I'd finally say, "I love you as far as the number line goes! I WIN!" I still think of that every now and then when I'm falling asleep at night.

When my mom would leave for a PTO meeting or something, he would blast Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin and we would dance around the living room. I would stand on his shoes, or stand on the piano bench when I wanted to be tall. I was always so fascinated with the trumpets at the beginning of "The Way You Look Tonight" and he promised that would be our song at my wedding. I still can't wait for that day.

It's weird though. The older I get, the more I realize that so much of who I am now at 19 years old is because of the things he taught and gave me. The intense love for Disney that my siblings and I all share couldn't possibly come from anyone else. I mean, what do you expect when you have a dad that takes you and all of his students to Disney World every year? And there is no doubt that my insane love and passion for teaching comes from him. Every time I get started on my "WE WOULDN'T HAVE ANY JOBS IN THIS WORLD WITHOUT TEACHERS!" rant, I sigh and smile a little, because I know exactly where I got that from. I have always known what I wanted to do with my life because of him. He inspires me daily and reminds me why I want to be a teacher.

Everyone is always telling me how great of a band director Mr. Joe is. That's so true. But here's one thing you don't know.

He's an even better dad.

There are not enough words I could type in this sappy blog post that could explain how thankful I am to have such a wonderful dad.

Happy Birthday, Dad!! I am so proud of everything you do, even though I used to spend so much time rolling my eyes at all of it. I miss you so much, and I can't wait to see you in a few days. There is no man I will ever be able to love as much as I love you, but when I think I've found someone that comes close, you and I will have a blast dancing to our song.

I love you as far as the number line goes. :)

Love,
Your Sweet Peas

PS- As always, thank you for choosing kids instead of fish. I personally think you made an excellent choice. :)

E26 Rescues the Homeless Girl

Well boys and girls, it's that time of year again. My bank account cries every time I buy a school book, and I've spent a large amount of time walking up and down the school supplies aisles at Walmart like the nerdy elementary education major I am. I have dreams about buying new dry-erase markers and bulletin board decorations for my future classroom. Judge me if you must.

School doesn't start until the 20th, but I had job interviews at a few daycares so I've been homeless in Starkville since the 10th. Alexa the homeless girl. Doesn't it have a nice ring to it? The Pointe (the apartment complex I'm living in this year) won't unlock my bedroom door until the 15th. Two of my roommates are already living there and I've paid my rent, but they refuse. They apparently love to be difficult for absolutely no reason.

A day or two before I needed to head to Starkville, I made a list titled "People Who Wouldn't Mind Taking In Homeless Alexa." It was color-coded and everything. After rearranging my list a million times, I decided to ask my best friend's older sister, Brittany. She is the bomb.com and has always treated me like a little sister. She happily agreed to let me crash on her couch for the weekend. I knew it wouldn't be boring, but I wasn't prepared for what was about to happen at E26.

We spent the weekend eating, shopping, crafting, watching the olympics, and making tie-dye cake. Sounds like nothing too excited, but anything involving Brittany and Ann Ham is always exciting. Just trust me. Ann Ham is Brittany's fantastic roommate. Her name is Ann Hamilton (Yes, that's her first name. Embrace it, it comes with cool nicknames.) and she is absolutely lovely. They are so much fun and I couldn't have asked for a better first weekend in Starkville. Something tells me I will be seeing a lot of them this year. It's okay since I'm 94.2% sure that they love me. Which probably has something to do with the fact that I love washing their dishes for them. :) What can I say, it's soothing. After my wonderful weekend, I transferred to my apartment where two of my wonderful roomies, Monica and Amber, have been living all summer. They are fantastic! I'm currently living in our living room until the people in charge unlock my bedroom. I hate those stupid people.

In other news, remember when I thought I was having a mid-mid-mid-life crisis a few months ago because I was thinking about rushing? Well.. brace yourselves, because I turned thinking about rushing into actually rushing. I just need to try something new and get out of my comfort zone. I'm always such a creature of habit! I made of list of things I could do (you know how I am about my lists), and rushing seemed to be the safest. It's easy peasy so far. They make you talk a lot and give you a lot of water. And THEN after giving you all of this water, they don't let you go to the bathroom. Confused? Me too.. me too. It really is a lot better than I thought it would be. Although I will admit that every day after having lots of happy, hyper girls talking/singing to me in high-pitched voices, I come home and watch New York Yankees highlights on my computer. I have to ease myself into this girly thing, you know. Also--brace yourselves again-- it's been approved by my mother. Being the weirdo I am, I sent her a long email full of bullet points, explanations, and a tiny bit of sarcasm here and there to try and explain this whole mid-mid-mid-life crisis/sorority thing. I don't know why I always worry when I know she supports anything I do, no matter how random or unlike me it is. She replied with nothing but sweet mommy words, but there was one line that was my all-time favorite.

"I will always be supportive of you as long as it's not drugs or something destructive. Then I'd just have to lock you in your room and feed you chocolate chip pancakes until you got over it."

How many moms say something like that to their kids? I freaking love that woman. And her chocolate chip pancakes.

So, that's that. I have a few more days of this rush stuff. My immune system obviously thought this week wouldn't be interesting enough for me, so it crashed and left me with a sinus and upper-respiratory infection. Again. I forced myself to go to Starkville Hell, also known as the Student Health Clinic, and left with 6 prescriptions. Something tells me my insurance company uses a picture of my face as a dart board. I'm so expensive! They always remember me at SHC. I don't know if it's because I'm such a nice person or because I always throw my Italian temper at them for trying to take my blood every single time. Probably the latter. It's a sinus infection people, YOU DO NOT NEED MY BLOOD! Sigh. I'm trying to find a regular doctor to go to that's in/near Starkville. If anyone knows of any good ones, please help ya girl out! I'm going to lose it if those psychos misdiagnose me or try to stick a needle in my arm one more time.

So now I'll just leave you with a picture that kinda sums up the shenanigans of E26. By the way, Brittany and Ann Ham have a blog! It's called Shenanigans of E26. There's never a dull moment there and they are hilarious.

I hope everyone has a wonderful week! If you find yourself having a tough day, just picture me attending "water parties" and singing sorority songs. Don't worry, it makes me giggle too. :)

We really like finding wedding dresses at Palmer Home in Columbus

We are going to be beautiful brides one day.

Where'd All The Good People Go?

After a long day of work last week, I wrote a blog post titled "The Most Annoying People in the Whole Freakin' World." I was cranky and I had been on one of my "I hate living in Mississippi with all of these stupid, ignorant people" streaks for a week or so. (Yes, I realize there are people like that everywhere. Now is not the time for you to mention that. They are worse here. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!)

I was at the very end of my Rope of Sanity. Where'd all the good people go? (Anyone else singing the Jack Johnson song? No? Just me?)

Anyway, I was on my way to JC yesterday to take my last online biology test that had to be proctored. It was at 1:00 and my dad had come home to watch the 4 kids that I'm a nanny for. I was thinking about how annoying people are and trying to drive through the ridiculous storm, when all of a sudden my car stopped. I was pressing the gas but my car was slowing down. I pulled over on the side of Highway 90 in Gautier while screaming every cuss word I could think of. I turned off my car and tried to restart it, but of course it wouldn't. I tried to call my dad and four more people after that, but of COURSE my phone wasn't working because of the bad weather. Between my intense fear of thunder/lightning and failing a class, I was pretty sure I was going to die so I figured I might as well melt down. Right in the middle of cussing out Mother Nature, a truck pulled over in front of me and a guy, who had to be in his early 20s maybe (and was CUTE), was coming to tap on my window. Oh GREAT, I thought, first my car breaks down and now I'm going to get robbed and murdered. Not quite, paranoid Alexa, not quite.

Nice Boy: "Hey.. uh, do you need help? I was stopped at the red light and you looked like you were freaking out.. are you okay?"
Me: "NO! I AM NOT OKAY! I have a test in 15 minutes and I'm going to be late and I don't even know where the stupid building on that campus is and my car broke down and I don't know what the hell is wrong with it and my phone won't work and it's thundering and lightning and I CAN'T MISS MY TEST!"

Poor kid. He was being so nice and I was freaking the freak out. He told me to pull the lever thingy to pop my hood, and of course I (once again) couldn't find that stupid thing. It's seriously hidden in the weirdest spot. We were getting drenched while he did guy stuff and checked my car. He said everything was fine and I probably just hit too much water. So of course when he tried to start my car it started right up. Because my car hates me and likes to make me look stupid. I told him thank you and that I would be fine, but he insisted on following me to JC. I tried to follow the stupid JC signs and look for the building I'm supposed to go to, but eventually I just parked in a random parking lot. Sure enough, Nice Boy gets out of his car and we walk around until some maintenance guys finally tell us where to go. I was positive Nice Boy was waiting for the perfect moment to kill me.

Me: "Thanks for your help, but you don't have to walk with me. I'll figure it out."
Nice Boy: "It's really no problem, I just want to make sure you get to the right place."
Me: "Um.. okay, are you going to kidnap me and kill me or something? Because I kinda really need to take my test first.."
Nice Boy: (laughing) "No, but I think your priorities are a little out of order there."

I asked him if he had somewhere to be, and he tried to lie and say no. He was the sweetest thing! He was dressed nice like he had been at work and I'm almost 100% positive he was only on his lunch break or something. He kept doing the guy thing where he avoids the question and keeps saying, "Don't worry about it, it's not big deal." Stupid boys. I felt so bad!

Finally, at 1:15 we walked into the quiet test center. We were completely soaked with water dripping from our clothes and oozing out of our shoes. I walked up to the lady with my ruined notes in my hand and nicely explained why I was late. Her response? "Too bad. You're late. You should have left earlier." Oh. No. She. Didn't. It wasn't like everyone was there to take the same test. It was people taking different tests for different online classes on computers that were being monitored. There were plenty of available computers left. I felt the last string of my sanity pop and I started yelling. Are you picturing this? A random girl, soaking wet, yelling at this stupid lady. I guess I scared her enough, because she went to get someone else after trying to tell me that she didn't believe me again. I heard her tell the man, "This girl claims that her car broke down and that it's raining really hard outside." Here goes crazy Alexa again. "Claims?! CLAIMS?! ARE YOU STUPID?! Do you not hear the storm happening outside?! I am soaking wet with this nice stranger who helped me get here just so I could take a stupid test! I AM NOT LEAVING UNTIL I TAKE MY FREAKIN TEST!!" Everyone was watching the crazy lady making a scene. Nice Boy made some nice comment and explained the situation in a nicer voice while I continued to give the stupid lady my best death glare. The man finally said, "I think we can make an exception with all of the bad weather going on." Uhh, YA THINK?

So Nice Boy saved the day, Stupid Lady didn't get her way, and I got to take my test. I told Nice Boy that I would give him half of my money if I ever win the lottery. He settled for a hug and my one million thank yous instead. I keep calling him Nice Boy because I somehow missed his name. I think it started with a J. He might have mumbled it on the side of the highway, but I was too busy worrying about my test. I'm sure he mumbled it though. Damn boys and their damn mumbling.

All ridiculousness and sarcasm aside, though, I really am so thankful for Nice Boy. There are a lot of ignorant, annoying, awful people in the world, but there are some really good ones too. I finally had just a little more faith in humanity, and then I woke up on Friday morning to the news about the Colorado shooting. I've always thought about what I would do if someone started shooting while I was at the movies, but I always thought it was just another one of my silly, irrational fears. I guess that's just the way life goes though, right? We can't let the bad ones make us forget about all of the good ones. We COULD make some better gun laws, but that's another rant for another time.

It's so cliche to say that life is short. That's probably my least favorite popular phrase. But it's so easy for us to forget that something like that can happen to anyone. We spend so much time focusing on work, college, who we're going to marry, and how successful we're going to be. I don't want to put important things on the back burner just so I can focus on things like that. Obviously going to college, getting a good job, and having my own family is important to me, but I don't want to miss out on enjoying the here and now either. My least favorite part of growing up is not getting to see my family enough, knowing that anything could happen to any of us one day. I'm always torn between wanting to go on my own adventures, but not wanting to miss out on anything at home either. I like being one of those weird families that's close and actually likes spending time with each other. I like that people think it's weird because I actually talk to my siblings quite frequently and not just when something bad has happened in the family. It's never a surprise to get a "just because" call from my aunt, or a "thinking of you" card from one of my cousins. I love that.

It's important to me that I eventually settle down as close to my parents and siblings as possible, wherever that may be. I want my kids to grow up the way I did. Having cousins who are also their friends, and having all of their family around them. Never having to wonder what they're missing out on or what it's like to grow up with a big, loving family that likes to hug each other a lot. Just in case that whatever is supposed to be on the other side of this life isn't there.

You know, it's a good thing my family likes me. Especially my parents, because I'll never stray too far from home. And especially JT and Zoe, because they are and will always be my favorite people. And because if my life plan doesn't work out, they play a big part in my back up plan. ;)

Basically, they'd be extra screwed if they didn't like me. 

I know they are all reading this because I come from a family of professional stalkers. My mom and I always say that we could probably work for the FBI. I love you all way too much, and that is the only explanation I have for all of my craziness.

I've been spending so much time wondering where all the good people have gone, when they've really just been right in front of me the whole time.

Hug your family, babies, and friends. And if you see a person freaking out on the side of the highway, stop and help them if you can. They probably aren't as psychotic as they look.

:)