The Rock. A perfect little spot for a romantic occasion.

So, ever since DJ Smith asked me to get hitched, I've had it in the back of my head that I'd like to do something really creative for engagement photos. I even looked it up on Pinterest, so you KNOW I was for real looking for something unique. (Pinterest, although fascinating, I don't actually use when I'm working on a project. I just like to LOOK at it from time to time.)

I wanted to make the text of the message part of the photograph, not something printed on in post production. And then one day it hit me....

Benny and I met at UT... we're both UT grads, we both love the Vols....

HOW ABOUT THE ROCK????

Perfect.

For those not in the know, The Rock is on the UT campus and is a canvas for free speech. Meaning, you can paint it if you want to. Over the years, it's held marriage proposals, important dates for upcoming events, vulgar things about rival schools - you name it, it has probably been painted on The Rock. It has been painted so many times (I heard a tour guide one time say twice a day, and I kind of believe him) that all the layers of paint got to be too much this summer, and three tons of paint layers slid off (I was in Scotland at the time).

Now here's the kicker: you can't reserve The Rock. It's either there and no one's painting it (feel free to jump in with buckets and brushes!) or someone's there painting it (too bad for you, come back later.)

This does not fit well with me, Miss Schedule-ey Check Mark Getting Stuff Done person. Factor in outside photos (one cancellation was due to a threat of rain) and hiring a photographer (I owe you Ruth's Chris) and you have an anxiety attack waiting to happen.

But! On the appointed day, at the appointed hour, the coast was clear. We immediately jumped into action.

Who's we? I enlisted friend and colleague, Ingrid Ruffin, to help me paint. She paints a monthly mural on a glass board in the library, and she agreed to help me paint my message for the engagement photos. I was worried about having to scatter would-be painters if things got rough, so I also enlisted friend Johnna Easter to provide security.

also helps because johnna is super tall and helped with the top of the rock.

Bear in mind that while we're painting, we attract all sorts of attention. Cars honked, tour groups filed by eyeing us with interest, and we did have to turn away one group of potential painters. (They were super sweet girls and thought the engagement photo idea was adorable and painted the backside of The Rock instead.) Also showing up?

mayberry deputy fife. i asked him if he was going to citizen's arrest us but i think i confused him because he just said 'no.'

It took us a few hours, then I scampered home to shower and get gussied up for the actual photos. When I returned:

ingrid was super proud of her creation!

And the photo shoot commenced. 

good times.

And in the end?

worth it.

Great day. Oh, it's not the first time I've painted The Rock, but it's certainly my favorite.

me as a freshman at UT. i'm so proud.

tiny photo, but this was actually a class project i did with my friend jill in graduate school. 

And of course, we topped the day off with:

selfies!

Thank you friends for making a fun project just that much more enjoyable. Read friend and fellow blogger Jonathan Young's take on it here. 

What's that ticket worth to you?

Actual conversation between me and DJ Smith:

DJS: Hey do you want to go give blood today? They're giving away free tickets to the Fantasy of Trees if you donate blood.

M: We don't need extra tickets. I got some already for us.

DJS: Yes, but Ella may want to take a friend. I thought we could get extra tickets that way if she wanted to bring someone.

M: Sooooo.... we basically will be getting blood tickets to the Fantasy of Trees? Is that a thing?

DJS: Do you want it to be a thing?

M: HELL YES I DO.

DJS: You get free pizza too.

M: YOU MEAN FREE BLOOD PIZZA.

this is my blood ticket

these tickets are conflict free

Things I am bad at

Remembering to change out razors.

Very bad about remembering things like that.

So. Recently, I bought a whole new packet of razors, and changed them out everywhere.

How many places can that be? You might wonder....

My bathroom.

My makeup bag.

DJ Smith's shower.

And soon thereafter, fell to personal grooming.

And promptly cut my leg.

Did so the next day too.

And the next.

And.... the next....

And the next - this time pretty bad.

And the next.

And finally I cut myself so bad on the ankle that I stopped the shower immediately and vowed to go all Madonna circa 1989.

After a day or two, I confessed this lack of shaving prowess to friend Sharon who blurted out, "Did you ever consider it may not be user error, MEGAN?"

And until she said that, no, I hadn't. Not at all.

So I went home and replaced the razor. And gingerly shaved the following morning. Cut-free.

Same with the day after that. And the day after that. And the day after that.

But then... I got to thinking.... and I dug the offensive razor out of the trash.

And examined it.

Nothing unusual.

So I threw it away again.

The next day, I dug it out again, and this time compared it to the un-offensive razor in my shower, careful to make sure I didn't switch the razors accidentally in the process.

No notable differences.

And then it occurred to me.

My razor, must actually, BE:

A HORCRUX.

Makes perfect sense. Why else would my razor be trying to kill me?

Over and out.

Road Trip!

I have been a lax blogger lately. I know. I admit it.

It's been a busy fall, ya'll.

BUT. I took a fancy road trip the other day, and that my friends can only mean one thing:

BLOG. GOLD. Let's get to it.

Sometimes it's super fun to be an adult. You can eat a sundae for dinner if you want to, and maybe eat cookie dough straight out of the tube. Ain't no one gonna tell me no! And when I heard that one of my favorite writers (second favorite, Dipsey), Jenny Lawson, was on book tour, there was only one thing to do.

I was going to take time off of work, go get in my car and MEET HER. I didn't know at the time, but friend Johnna also loved this writer, so I had a co-conspirator on my ROAD TRIP!!!!

beep-beep mother f*ckers

We take off for Nashville, TN. Johnna re: her mother's perception of a road trip to go see a writer speak:

J: So, my mother says to me "I hope you girls are staying near where the concert is. I don't want you two drinking and driving back to the hotel." So I tell her, "Mom, it's not a concert. It's an author reading." And she gets a three tiered look on her face. At first, it was relief that we're not going to some raucous concert. Then, it's confusion, because a four hour round trip to see a WRITER? Last - oh my god what a nerd my daughter is.

I'll take it! Nerd alert on high!

We arrived at our hotel and immediately felt at home.

patron saint dolly

this chair was super comfy and cool all at the same time

Next, time to find the public library and get Furiously Happy.

me and johnna with rory the giant stuffed raccoon

On one of her blog posts, Jenny writes about coming alone to book signings and how that's OK, because you'll be surrounded by people just like you.

meeting other fruitcakes just as odd as we are. kevin with her own beyonce the giant metal chicken.

And then - hooray!

the bloggess comes out and reads from her new book

And after waiting line post-reading, we finally got to meet:

the bloggess, jenny lawson! a pleasure to meet you!

And upon leaving, Johnna and I were giddily gloating our success when:

a bird pooped right on my head. birdie birdie in the sky, why'd you do that in my eye?

No matter! Johnna wet wiped it out of my hair and off we went to Printer's Alley. Honky tonkin' forthwith!!!

johnna proving to her parents that we are NOT milk and cookie girls

Dinner first, with a side of live country music:

fried green tomato blt

A quick tour around town:

it's practically history, ya'll

And Robert's Western World for more boot-scootin'.

ok, i think boog and dieder got the idea, johnna.

Robert's Western World had some... interesting wall art.

possibly the worst rendering of june and johnny cash ever

old hank's got some eye issues

Not to mention their Wall of Shame:

hello bandit

and scott baio

We were very racy and stayed up until midnight! The next morning, the Sheraton was kind enough to supply our room with my very favorite kind of tea.

you see into my soul, sheraton

And then, back to reality, work and Knoxville.

Fun times with Johnna! Thank you for coming along with me!!

summary of our trip in one photo

Completely Overwhelmed

So in preparation for upcoming nuptials, I think part of the journey should be made official:

How the hell did I get here?

Because when I think about it, this journey seems like it started a long time ago, but it was only three years. And when I stop and look back, I am completely overwhelmed at the number of people I need to thank for helping me to get where I am today.

My head knew I'd get here. My heart? Not so much. But I listened. I paid attention. I learned. And I really really REALLY REALLY appreciate it. Friends and support in the most unlikely of places. I knew it was happening at the time and I knew I'd get where I am today - someday... but I didn't think I'd get here this fast.

So thank you...

To the stranger who followed my blog and became my friend when I really needed friends.

The teammate I used to cheer with who wanted to hang out.

The old friend from high school who stuck with me even when I accused him of wanting in my pants.

The lady who taught me yoga and how to hoop.

The librarian who agreed to move in with me and get two cats with me.

The very very very very many people who told me that there was light at the end of the tunnel, and going forward was essential, but that you'd get there one day.

And of course, to those who are my People.

Incredible parents who took care of me.

Amazing best friend who embodies the meaning of the word 'grace'.

And to my Tribe.

You know who you are.

I went back and read that old blog post and was knocked over by my words as I identified those in the early days of rebuilding and realized I counted among my new support system a "guy that runs the radio station."

He's now about to become my husband. Every time I think of him, I get weak at the knees and my heart flutters. I don't know what he sees in me, but he asked, and I said yes, so he can't change his mind!!!

So, I guess I do know how the hell I got here. And I have all of you to thank for it. You guys saved my life.

Stay amazing.

What's it going to take? Someone, tell me PLEASE

Today my heart hurts and I'm numb with sadness. Why would anyone decide that taking up a gun and using it violently against another human is the right course of action? I don't understand. I sincerely don't.

In Scotland, after hearing word about yet another, increasingly frequent gun attack resulting in loss of life happened, I asked my tour guide, G-Scott about gun laws in their country. Guns are strictly monitored, he assured me - if you wanted a gun, you had to pass many levels of security before you were granted permission to own a gun - and then, access to it was enforced as well as how it was stored, along with its ammunition.

I scoffed at him. "Anyone with a pulse can get a gun in America," I retorted to him.

And then he said:

"But.... you have bears and wolves over there, don't you?"

And I erupted in laughter. And was almost immediately sobered by what I said next, followed by what I did not put into words at the time.

"There are no bears and wolves roaming the streets. I spent a two day overnight in the woods recently and never considered taking a gun. And do you know how much trouble I would be in if I shot a BEAR?"

And then I thought:

How little trouble I would be in if I shot another human with dark skin.

And the thought horrified me. It horrifies me still. But what is playing out in this country, right now, today - all over - is reaffirming that fact.

I'm stunned.

I'm stunned that the tragic and senseless killing of a lion half a globe away sparks more outrage in our country than the killing of humans a few miles away. I'm stunned that these shootings happen - over, and over, and over, and over, and over - and nothing is done about our gun laws and regulations.

Guys. GUYS. What's it going to take?

Maybe if someone in authority gets shot? A leader, like a state senator or US congressperson?

Oh... wait....

Maybe if someone who hates God goes into a church and shoots a bunch of people while they worship?

Oh.... wait....

Maybe a classroom full of children getting shot to death at the hands of madman?

Oh... wait.....

What are we waiting for, goddammit?

My. Heart. Breaks.

Over and out.

Continuing lines from the loft...

Little known fact:

If you get a sunburn, even a teeny one, you have killed some skin cells and your skin will likely peel off in a few days. Having spent many years as a Floridian, I have on several occasions gotten a sunburn by forgetting to put on sunscreen and after a few days, peeled. However, if for some reason, when the skin is about to peel you sweat a bunch, the dead skin will get lifted by the sweat and form blisters.

Two weeks ago I spent and afternoon on the lake. And when I reached for my bag of sunscreen I realized I left all my cans of sunscreen on the pool deck at the beach. My face already had sunscreen on it, but needing to lube up my arms and legs I asked around for some from my boat mates. All that was available was the lotion kind, and not feeling like being sticky, I opted out... for the time being. Which basically meant I didn't use any at all the whole day. And got sunburned arms.

Fast forward to the next weekend, post-morning jog.

Roomstress: Got any plans for the day?

M: Nothing really. Want to clean the apartment. You?

R: Going shopping -

M, interrupts suddenly gasping: OH MY GOD. FEEL MY ARMS.

R: Why?

M: FEEL THEM! THAT SUNBURN BLISTERED AND MY SKIN IS ABOUT TO PEEL. FEEL HOW GROSS THESE BLISTERS FEEL.

R: No! I don't want to touch your blisters!

M: THEY FEEL SO GROSS!!! AAAAAHHH FEEL THEM!

R: STOP SHOVING YOUR BLISTERED ARMS IN MY FACE!

M: THEY ARE SO GROSS!!!! YOU GOTTA FEEL THIS!!!

R, realizing she's not going to get out of touching gross blisters, gingerly touches one finger to my arm. THAT IS DISGUSTING. YOU ARE GROSS.

M: It gets worse! Listen! (scratches skin) LISTEN TO THOSE BLISTERS POP!!! THIS IS SO GROSS!!!

R: YOU GET FREAKED OUT WHEN I TALK ABOUT COLONICS AND YET THIS ISN'T WORRISOME?

In other news, I got a misdirected email to Regina sent to my inbox today. Which ensued in this text conversation:

M: Just received a very confusing email.

R: That IS a super weird email. I'm trying to think what weird happy hour mix up could've spawned that.

M: Yes. Yes it is. At first I thought it was a misdirected email to you tattle-telling on me for something I had done. Which is foolish. Because I haven't done anything. Yet. Ahem. But look at those judgey italics!

R: Well let this be a lesson to you if you were thinking of doing anything! It is exceedingly weird that it's an email to me but misdirected to you, and ABOUT YOU.

M: And we live together. And pretty much know what each other has eaten in the last 48 hours.

Over and out.

Diversions, indeed...

Don't get me wrong. I'm all about a good time. And I love to travel and spend time with friends and family. But when I realized that two trips I very much wanted to take butted up to each other... even I was a bit abashed at the thought of taking two and a half weeks off of work.

All at once.

Right there mashed up together.

In fact I was going to have to leave my family beach vacation a day early in order to get back to Knoxville in time to catch my flight to Scotland.

Scotland. I went to Scotland!

BUT. First things first. In Scotland, they call things funny names. Like, they called "stepping off the train," "alighting." They called "garbage truck," "bin lorry." They called "detours," "diversions." And that's what I called this two and a half week detour from the day-to-day, it was my DIVERSION.

DIVERSION, FORTHWITH!!!

Beach time!

yea! another fun year!

The most fun thing we did (besides sleeping late, pool time, walks on the beach, etc.) was Benny and I took the kids to a pirate show.

the 5 'ARRRRS' of pirating: aye, avast, ahoy, arrrghh... and i can't remember the last one.

Too soon, it was time to leave my beach family and head home - for one night only! - and get packed up for Scotland. The Roomstress was presenting a poster at a conference with her superstar co-conspirator I MEAN, writer, RFM. We were to meet her in Edinburgh in two days. R was charged with actually carrying the poster, which she kept leaving in various and sundry places, so I carried it for her. Now, I'm a terrible flyer. TERRIBLE. And I'll pretty much do anything to distract myself when waiting on a plane. So it wasn't too much of a stretch before this happened.

seemed logical to me.

But in no time at all, we were in Scotland!

totally jetlagged - slept on a tour bus when we couldn't get into our hotel early.

Initially, I was super unimpressed at how much it was like home.

power t beer at a pub the first night

i was unaware that pizza was american. thanks for the intel, scotland. 

they had my favorite flower everywhere

And some things were the same, but only CALLED different things.

by 'strong cheese and onion' they mean 'sour cream and onion,' and by 'roast ox' they mean 'bbq.' 

by all of this they either mean 'ketchup' or 'all grossness.'

And the hotel? Nothing like I've ever seen before.

from our hotel room onto the street. it's where everyone in scotland gathered to smoke. every night. at 4 am. right when the some comes up. 

After a good night's sleep (where the sun goes down at 10 PM and comes up at 4 AM WHAT THE WHAT) We sallied forth to Edinburgh Castle.

fan-cee

it was old and stuff

self-guided tour selfie!

this we took outside their memorial for soldiers that died in ww i and ii. it was only after we had this taken that i saw a sign that asked that people not take pictures of the memorial out of respect. i tried to citizen's arrest regina but she insisted i wasn't up on all my scottish rules and regs and i was probably doing it wrong so i let it go. 

One afternoon we tour the Royal Yacht Britannia. That was super fun.

after we passed the fourth or fifth bar, regina made note that those royals sure were a bunch of sots.

ding ding! on the royal deck. 

We also found this chart to be of spectacular use. We're going to memorize these and make a whole bunch of tiny flags and use them to communicate in office meetings.

my favorites are 'you are running into danger' and 'i require a tug.'

The fabulous RFM joined us for a tour of the royal palace, Holyrood. (Or as I kept shouting out, "WELCOME TO HOLLYROOD!") That and I tried to ring the doorbell. And is it just me or does the Queen need to update the decor? I also asked a guide on the tour if he got super annoyed when the royals came for a stay because it sure seemed like a lot of work.

ruins, although impressive, are still just an old pile of bricks that nobody uses or takes care of but makes a bunch of money.

this chick coined the phrase 'talk to the hand'

When Regina was off conferring, I was on my own! One day, I hiked up to the top of Andrew's Seat, the only thing I was awake for on the bus tour the first day. UPDATE - a reader noted that it's ARTHUR'S Seat, not Andrew's. Which, since I called it Andrew's Bald for the first few days (they are BALDS in East Tennessee) is really a victory that I got at least half of it right, but THANK YOU for the correction, Margaret!)

incredible view from the top

fried haggis ball at library conference reception

After the conference, we left Edinburgh for Glasgow. First stop?

clean clothes

We took tours two days, one to see the lochs, and one to see the fishing villages and coast. We had the same guide both days, Grant Scott. Or as we liked to call him, G-Scott. And by the by, I did not know that "loch" meant "lake" and from now on am referring to our local watering hole as Fort Loudon Loch. 

what up, home fry?

G-Scott was awesome. He told stories while he drove the bus, and was very kind in his refusal when I asked if I could try driving on the backwards car. I tried to insist that Discover Scotland tours would WANT me to have that experience, but he insisted not. He played music too, and Regina entertained the whole bus by singing along with "You take the high road, and I'll take the low road" (which I had never heard) but entertained the whole bus (two days in a row, I might add) in turn with my vigorous sing-a-long to "Drunken Scotsman." I almost fell out of my seat when on day two he started another Scottish ditty and insisted that everyone sing who knew the song and he played "I'm gonna be (500 miles)" by the Proclaimers. THOSE SCOTS. 

At the Glencoe, Regina took a picture of me and showed it to me later because "I looked mad." I wasn't mad, I was trying to to cry because it was just so incredibly beautiful.

also known as resting bitch face

We also went to see if Nessie wanted to make an appearance.

on the lookout for a loch monster

Lochs are BIG. Our lakes are babies in comparison. I couldn't get over how vast they all felt. 

more ruins

loch ness duck

g-scott and a highland coo

The next day, G-Scott took us to St. Andrew's and the coast.

robinson crusoe statue. also the same village where regina and i split a fish and chips that was so delicious we ate it like sister monica joan and chummy would, gobbling it up so quickly in order to shove more in your throat.

teeny tine me determined to touch scottish sea

st. andrew's by the sea

they see me rollin'. they be hatin'.

obligatory golf picture

Lastly, we had to return to Edinburgh to catch our flight out. I had seen this Ferris Wheel in the city, and kept saying I wanted to ride it, but we never had a chance. So, when we returned to Edinburgh, we checked our luggage at the train station and went to go for a spin. It was when the wheel rose and stopped for about an hour at the tippy top that I remembered I was afraid of heights and Regina remembered she got motion sickness. She also took that opportunity to point out that the little jaunt to ride the Ferris Wheel, between storing luggage and tickets, was running us about $45. 

one terrified photo i managed to take. $45 in action, folks.

And then, all too soon:

Wait! Wait, wait!!!

The diversion continues.

Because....

DJ BENNY SMITH ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM AND I SAID YES. ACTUALLY I SAID HELL YES BUT LET'S NOT SPLIT HAIRS HERE.

Now I have a wedding to plan, my wife to murder and Guilder to frame for it. I MEAN. Just the wedding part. I'm giddy I'm so happy, and I'm over the moon. YEA ME.

So there you go. That's all I got for today, but believe me when I say it's enough. Over and out.

me and my boo