Creole Belle

Wedding Week

2012-02-03T19:42:00.000-08:00

Let’s pretend I posted this 3 weeks ago. Ok? Ok.

My trip to Colorado was so much fun. I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun. I flew into Denver on Wednesday and kept looking out the window, waiting in anticipation for the sight of mountains, snow, etc. I have never been wester than Lubbock, Texas (unless you count that California trip my mama took when I was in the womb). Finally, there they were—little squares of white ground. There were snow flurries when I landed, but over the next 2 hours, flurries turned to real, honest-to-goodness snow.

We stayed in Winter Park, a little town in a valley a couple hours west of Denver. Our cabin was massive and had a sweet kitchen (SO MUCH COUNTERSPACE). And when I say our, I mean me, K, B, both of their parents, some friends, and K’s 2 sisters and their husbands and children. The kids and I played the dance Kinect game one night and had a blast. Make a note—get one of those. We went tubing on Friday afternoon. Also a blast. I was only scared one time—I was going down the black diamond hill on my belly and hit a mogul and flew into the air and I thought I was going to fall off my tube and die. But I didn’t.

Rehearsal dinner and the bachelorette party were on Friday night. Earlier in the day I had to draw a studly fireman on a large poster board so that we could play pin-the-hose-on-the-fireman at the bachelorette party. We used twizzlers for the hoses. Then there was another game that involved toilet paper rolls and sticks. And I won the trivia game about K and B. Congratulations to moi!

Wedding Eve was exhausting, but that's okay because Wedding Day was perfect. Details are forthcoming, like, tomorrow. But really, probably not for another few days (cough!) week. Sorry about the suspense, but this week was also exhausting and it is past my bedtime.

Arielle

the Accident

2012-01-06T08:35:00.000-08:00

I noticed my bruises beginning to appear on Sunday night afterthe accident that morning—on my knees, my forearm, and big, ugly ones on theback of my upper left arm. Emotionally,I didn’t feel anything during the crash. I felt like I was very still, contained though I could feel the carrolling and bouncing into the air multiple times. It was like one of those rides at a fair, the kind thatwhips you around so fast you can’t really move. I knew I was rolling; my carwas rolling, but there was nothing Icould do, so I closed my eyes and waited for it to stop. I remember thinking, so this is happening.

I was only half an hour from Savannah; I hadn’t realized Iwas so close. For the past halfhour, I’d been sleepy, but I had my audio book playing (which, despite popularbelief, had proven better at keeping me focused than loud music) and waslooking for a safe place to pull over and take a quick 10-minute nap. I found out later that that particularstretch of I-16 is practically empty. As there was no rest stop or exit to be had, I continued. I must have dozed for a few secondsbecause I found myself opening my eyes, and I was off the road in rocks andgrass. I quickly turned the wheelto steer back onto the road when I noticed the sign immediately ahead ofme. I swerved to avoid it, but Iwas too close and my cruise (set at 75 miles per hour) had me going too fast tomiss it. As I hit the pole, Idon’t remember feeling any impact, though there obviously was one because itmade Stella swing around about 100˚ and then roll over three times, backacross the interstate into the median.

When everything was still again, I opened my eyes, put myhands to my head, and felt frizziness. Amusingly enough, my first thought was, what did all that rolling do to my hair? I suppose I had expected my hair to be smoother than itwas. The next few moments broughtme back to reality and more pressing matters like where is my phone? Inoticed all of my things tossed about the cabin, jumbled with broken, powderedglass. I had felt nothing duringthe accident, but now there was slight panic when I couldn’t find my phoneanywhere and couldn’t open my door to get out. But a woman was coming toward me, and she called to ask if Iwas okay. I told her yes, but Iwas stuck. She helped me open thedoor that had jammed and checked to see if I was really all right. The paramedics and police and firedepartment arrived quickly, in about two minutes. They checked me out, and then all the boring stuff started.

That night, I had a dream I was in the accident again,either mine or a similar one. Iwoke up in a rush, sitting straight up in bed, but there was no screaming, noheavy breathing, and no fear. Notthen or during the real accident. It just happened. I didn’t have anymore crash dreamsafter that.

God’s grace was evident in so many ways. I was buckled. The laptop didn’t hit me as it flew outof my broken window and onto the road; in fact, nothing hit me though the carwas packed full of my stuff. Noone else was coming when I flipped back across the interstate. I landed in the median on all fourtires and not upside down or on my side. A couple driving in the opposite direction saw the accident happen and called9-1-1. I got my laptop from theroad before it was rolled over. Also, I got no ticket, even though I took out a sign. I wonder which one it was.

And Stella protected me. I very much liked her and became sad when I realized thatshe saved me, and I killed her. Ifthe side air bags hadn’t deployed, I’m sure my entire left side, especially myhead and face, would have suffered severe damage. I’m fine with the things I lost—all the clutter and mybusted laptop—it feels like a chance to start fresh. I would have been okay hadI lost my portfolio and work from SCAD, although I know people would considerthat important. They’re justmaterial things, just stuff. ButStella was my car. Yes, just a car,but the perfect car—my dream 2006 CR-V, white, classy yet adventurous. And it kind of hurts that it’s my faultshe’s gone, as silly as that is.

When Kim and Virgil came to get me at the wrecker’s, Ithought I would cry when I saw their familiar faces; after all, I kept tearingup when I talked to my dad that morning. But by that time, everything had been taken care of and there wasnothing left to cry over. I talkedto the insurance company, and they were going to take care of everything ontheir end. I talked to the deputywho drove me to the wrecker and stayed with me until Kim and Virgilarrived. He told me what I couldexpect from the insurance company, about renting a car, etc. I had no idea what one does after anaccident because the TV shows and movies only show the exciting parts. When the Kings showed up, they gave metight hugs and surveyed the damage of the car in quiet shock. There was nothing left to do but flauntmy #9 Krewe de Drew shirt and remind Virgil again how my precious Saints couldbeat his Colts anytime, be it the Superbowl game two years ago or thatembarrassing match-up a few months ago when we crushed them 63-7.

Later that day, Virgil told me again how I should never geton the road without sunflower seeds and a brown paper bag. We’d had this conversation before.

Me: I don’t want sunflower seeds. The fact that you have a bag designated for spitting is disgusting.

Virgil: But you’ll be in the car by yourself. No one will see you.

Me: But then I’d gross myself out.

Conclusion: Nobody wins this argument.

However, in light of recent events, I will embark on my nextroad trip armed with a bag of sunflower seeds and a brown paper bag.

And that is all.

Arielle

Hello Again, & Welcome to Ari's First Day of School

2012-01-04T19:15:00.000-08:00

This morning I sat in my intermediate math class, feeling a littleridiculous for two reasons (neither of them being that I am a senior and in a simple math class). Thefirst was that I was wearing red lipstick. At eight in the morning. Glossy Red Revivallips. I put it on for NiSi afterbreakfast because she wanted to see what red lipstick was like. I didn’t bother wiping it off which issomething I began to reconsider halfway through class. But I guess the lipstick wasn’t completelyout of place since I was rocking the pseudo-biker chick look with a classyflair. I was in my boots, dark jeans,and leather jacket with a 1920’s finger wave hairdo for a touch ofsophistication. I don’t thinkanyone in college anywhere dresses the way I do for early morning classes.

The second reason for feeling a bit ridiculous was thatProfessor McClendon was rambling. He seems like a nice man, middle-aged, probably in his fifties and lookslike the stereotypical professor—graying hair, glasses, and a sweater with astarchy white collar underneath. But, for 2 ½ hours, he had been explaining fractions,decimals, and negative numbers—information I have known since at least fifthgrade. He’s very thorough in histeaching, but I am looking ahead to the next ten weeks where I wake up early inthe cold twice a week to sit in a classroom to hear him spill on for 2 ½ hoursabout things I already know. But Ilike math and I knew what I was getting into when I registered for this class10 weeks ago. Professor McClendon said at the beginning of class that he would not assignspecific homework, but that we should practice on our own. I’m pretty sure I’ll be the only one inclass doing that. And I’ll just plan onbringing something to occupy my time during class, like writing these blog posts. Honestly, that’s probably why I decidedto begin writing again, because I know that on Mondays and Wednesdays between 8a.m. and 10:30, I will have nothing to do. I won’t be posting as often as I did before, probably once, maybe twicea week, but it’s still something. You’re welcome : )

And in case some of you want the details, I will probably be posting about my accident tomorrow evening. And I'll also have to explain who NiSi is. I can tell, you're just dying in anticipation.

Additionally, I will be making some changes to the format of the blog, as you may have already noticed, so don't get so concerned that you went to the wrong blog when you show up in a few days and all the colors have switched around. In the words of my best friend, just embrace it.

Arielle

And Now I Will Wax Philosophic

2010-02-19T10:28:00.000-08:00

This past week has been crazy hectic. All of the sudden there was all this work to do. 2 papers to write, research to do, drawing that takes HOURS, and hundreds of pages of reading, typography midterm + project progress. I suppose I could have done more last weekend, but I wanted to hang out with Max and Thea because I finally live in the same city as my best friend and I only get to see her twice a week. Rude.

So last Saturday we made dinner. I don't know that I've ever made anything so fancy looking in my life. I did not intend for it to be so gourmet, but that's how it came out. I made risotto, wilted spinach, and rolled flank steak. I got a confession of love, two proposals of marriage, and 2 propositions to cook for people. Haha, they just don't know that the meal was actually a fluke; the fact that it came out good had very little to do with me and more to do with luck.

So I've been busy busy all week and moody, which is not a good combination. I didn't really have time for dinner one night, so I went to get a smoothie. The lady put all my stuff in the blender and turned it on. Now, the smoothie shop at SCAD has the blenders on the counter between the workers and the students. Sometimes, they don't put the lid on all the way and then they walk away, leaving a whirring machine and trembling lid that threatens to pop off at any moment. You have to smack your hand down on top of it if you want your smoothie to stay in the blender and not all over the ceiling. And even when they do put the lid on all the way, they don't hold it down and the machine just trembles so much it practically gives me heart attack to watch it. It's that feeling you get when you're on the edge of your seat and not breathing, just waiting for something to happen that could be spectacular or a complete disaster. It's like watching reality TV. I'm pretty sure my blood pressure rises a lot when I'm getting a smoothie. If the lid isn't on quite right, I'll hold it down myself; if the lid is on I take a few steps back and turn my head. It is so nerve wracking.

So as I was standing there waiting for my smoothie, I thought about the whole perilous smoothie situation and my typical reaction to it and I felt like it was somehow a metaphor for my life. I can't watch reality TV, I have a hard time when someone is giving a speech, and I try to avoid awkward situations at all costs--all because I can't bear to sit by and watch when something could go DISASTROUSLY WRONG. It makes me nervous like you would not believe.

I suppose that's enough philosophying for the week.

Saturday at the Airport

2010-02-09T13:04:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning did not go quite as planned. After arriving at the airport, I found that my flight had been canceled. The flight from Charlotte to New Orleans had been rerouted to Miami for the Superbowl. Stupid Superbowl. A lame comment to make considering it's the sole reason I'm going home. US Airways kindly found me a new flight with Delta, and I proceeded to check in with them. On my way through security, I piled all my stuff into the bins and made sure all the metal was out of my pockets. Oops, I forgot to take off my hat. Oops, I forgot to take off my belt. I step through the detector one more time. and it goes off again. At this point, I can't really take anything else off without being indecent. The nice TSA lady ushers me into a glass room behind her and asks me to please wait. So there I was, in a glass box in the middle of the airport, on exhibit for all to see. A TSA woman came in and told me that she's going to use the wand and give me a pat down. For real.

Obviously I complied and she proceeded. She was awfully nice about it and let me know that when the detector wand goes off, she has to pat that spot. She patted the clips in my hair, the rivets on my jeans, and finally concluded that it was probably my underwire. And then she had to rub my legs, arms, back and sides. So there I was, on display for all to see being TOUCHED. RUBBED. If you know me, you know that that was NOT ok.

Somehow i survived and went to my gate. My flight to Atlanta wasn't scheduled to leave until 12:40, which was 2 1/2 hours away. I wasn't expected to get into New Orleans until after 6. I really hoped to get there sooner, like my original time of 2 pm, but I'm learning a lot about holding onto my peace. I have a choice to get flustered and anxious (which I am more prone to do) and I have the choice to keep my peace and trust God, even in the most trivial of situations. Once in Atlanta, I hoped to catch an earlier flight, but decided that, even if I couldn't, it would be ok. I would choose to be ok.

So I piddled around by my flight gate, and 12:40 came and went--still no boarding. We were finally allowed to board at 1:25. As I was stepping onto the plane, the thought occurred to me that I was climbing into a tube that's supposed to shoot through the sky like those capsules at the drive-thru at the bank. Except that the plane wasn't going through a tube, it was being launched into open air. That's much safer.

Once we arrived in Atlanta, there was another delay in getting off of the plane. Then, in keeping with tradition, I had to jet across the airport, like I usually do with a layover in Atlanta. Terminal D all the way to Terminal B. I arrived just as the last passenger was boarding only to find out that there were no open seats. I trekked over to Terminal A to see if there was space on the next flight home. There was : ) for a $50 fee : ( Even after I told them that they were the ones to reroute my flight. Rude. I was not going to pay $50 to see my people an hour early, so I made my way back to concourse B to wait for my scheduled flight at 5:50. I tried to watch the movie I started downloading in Savannah, but it didn't finish downloading, and they make you pay for internet in Atlanta. So, I was not going to pay $5 for internet to watch a movie I already paid to download. Rude. Again.

I finally arrived in New Orleans at 7 pm. All I had to eat all day was a handful of chocolate caramel popcorn Thea made me take. Thank you Thea. Also, thank you for the luggage you let me borrow so I didn't have to check a bag. Also, thank you Reuben for the iTunes gift card that bought me the movie, even though I didn't get to finish downloading it.

But I suppose the Saints Superbowl win made it all worth it : )

Who Dat !?!

Happy 1/2 Birthday to Me

2010-02-04T19:21:00.000-08:00

It's birthday week here at SCAD. Ana's birthday was on Monday and everyone else on campus followed suit. Like, 8 people I know had a birthday this week. And I had a half birthday yesterday. It was lovely, thank you for asking.

Anywho, in honor of birthday week, I made Ana a cake. Vanilla with raspberry, strawberry, and blackberry filling and frosted with chocolate ganache. 4 layers. It was delicious. Also in honor of birthday week, we took a break from the gym : )

Yes, we don't have very much counter space in the dorm, so the cake is squished between my Brita filter, Ana's Brita filter, our cups, dishes, and of course all of the cake-assembling materials. Please excuse the clutter.

What Happened in the Last 10 Days?

2010-01-28T20:10:00.000-08:00

Umm...I can't quite remember everything that's been going on for the past week and a half, so I'm just going to give you some tidbits.

When my Typography professor is lecturing and he steps in front of the projector, his silhouette could be mistaken for Stanley Tucci's. Except that my professor is 6'3".

The Saints are in the Superbowl!!! Who dat!? Nuff said.

I found a branch, took it home with me, and painted it. Then I made flowers to put on it. I'm going to hang more things from it soon.

I also really like this tree.

If someone could arrange this for my half birthday (February 3), that would be great.

4Day Weekend!

2010-01-18T07:08:00.000-08:00

The rest of last week went pretty well. I had a quiz in Arthurian Literature on Thursday that I was a bit nervous about because I didn't know how my professor would format her quizzes. We were given 90 minutes to take it, but she said it wouldn't take that long. So I started writing. And then I couldn't stop. It took me the FULL 90 minutes to complete that quiz that only had 10 questions, not because I couldn't think of the answers but because I had so much to say. Everyone else but 1 or 2 people finished at about the 45 minute-1 hour mark. I just wanted to be sure I didn't leave anything out.

After the quiz, we were supposed to start reading the next book. My book has yet to come in. It should have arrived on Wednesday of last week, along with 2 other packages, because I paid triple the price of the book for expedited shipping. None of those packages have arrived. I did, however, receive the tank tops I ordered because, hello, they were on SALE. Those tank tops won't really help me in class on Tuesday when I'm supposed to know all about Sir Lancelot and his daring attempts to save Guinevere.

We have officially moved on to the courtly romance portion of Arthurian Literature and to help us better understand the appropriate mindset, the professor gave us a list compiled by a medieval writer entitled 'The Rules of Love.' It is absolutely hysterical. He defines romantic love and then lists 31 rules of love. My personal favorite is #15- "Every lover turns pale in the presence of his beloved." My face has never changed color with my emotions and the only time my face pales is in the winter when I don't get much sun. Some of the rules are fairly true, but then you get ones like #13- "Love rarely lasts when it is revealed." Bogus.

Anywho, my 4-day weekend was off to a good start on Friday when Ana and I headed out to the beach. It was chilly, but significantly warmer than it had been in weeks.

We just walked along the water and took pictures and then danced around on the very wide expanse of sand.

It was very low tide. I found a jellyfish. I know, it looks like a skull.

Ana wanted to poke it.

The water made such pretty patterns on the sand.

Look! Birdie tracks!

This is me. Not quite sure what I am doing.

And this is the island where I'm going camping! When it's low tide, you can walk there, but when the tide is in, you can swim. That's what I want to do. All my stuff will be in a kayak that I'll be pulling along after me.

The island is completely uninhabited so I can build a bonfire and do all manner of illegal things. Haha. It will be fabulous.

Friday night, Ana and I decided to actually sit down and watch a movie. Diedeliff and Casey came over and brought Ben & Jerry's, but then we couldn't decide on a movie. Ana and D went back and forth for 45 minutes and we weren't any closer to watching a movie. Ana then decided that she wanted to do karaoke, so she and Diddledoo found karaoke stuff on Youtube. For 2 1/2 hours they tried to get me to sing and I refused. It was ridiculous.

Movie plans for Sunday night didn't work out so well either. I was supposed to get together with some friends at their apartment, make spaghetti bolognese, and watch the Sound of Music. But somehow 3 people turned into 8 and I was making much more food and there was no Sound of Music. It was fun anyway. I actually felt like a real college student because I was cooking with wine, the guys were drinking Dos Equis, and we all squeezed around a little table in the living room.

Today is Monday, the last day of the 4-day weekend. Yesterday, I made plans to run in Forsyth this morning because the weather forecast said sunny and not too cold. Well, it's sunny and not too cold, but I forgot that my tennis shoes are in one of those packages that has yet to arrive. Rats. Maybe I'll get up the motivation to do some lunges and crunches instead.

Maybe not.

Girl in a Hardware Store

2010-01-12T06:02:00.000-08:00

So it's the beginning of Week 2 and I feel that I have a slightly better handle on all my stuff than I did last week. Still, the next 5 weeks are going to be jam packed, but I can make it through each week as long as I know me and Thea will be making dinner and watching a movie on Friday night and not even thinking about homework.

Yesterday, Ana and I went to Home Depot because she needed to purchase supplies for a project. We walked in and headed left toward the paint department. Only the paint department wasn't there. Everyone knows that Home Depot has paint at the front of the store, in the center. Not this one. So we look at each other for a bit, totally lost because this Home Depot has decided to rearrange itself. I open my mouth to speak and Ana speaks first, saying exactly what I was thinking (we've been doing that a lot lately, it's quite the phenomenon).

Ana: We CANNOT look like girls in a hardware store. Right now, we look like girls in a hardware store."

Me: Right, so we should just keep walking with a purpose like we look like we know what we're doing.

We both set off, but in different directions. Not a good start. I ran to catch up with Ana who started off down one of the aisles. We began pointing out things that we passes to further the illusion that we knew what we were talking about. We still didn't know where we were going, but we eventually found the paint in the back corner of the store. We found all the other stuff too--with help from a very kind gentleman in an orange apron. I chit chatted with my mama on the phone about vitamin E while Ana picked out mirror and glue and sandpaper. Walking to the register, I shared with Ana what my mother said about Vitamin E because we had both been wondering. "Topically, it helps to moisturize skin. Ingested, it is processed by your liver, but it also promotes good estrogen levels which, in turn, promotes good skin."

It was then that we realized no matter how hard we tried not to look like girls in a hardware store, we had utterly failed. I had been clacking up and down the aisles in my rather feminine boots chatting about vitamins and estrogen, and Ana had been wandering from aisle to aisle with a slightly confused look on her face, adding commentary to my findings on Vitamin E.

On a completely different note, I walked to class that evening because it wasn't too cold outside, Savannah is lovely in the late afternoon, and it's only a 15-minute walk. Afterward, I wanted to walk back but was absolutely forbidden to do so. Ana and Thea fussed at me when they found out I walked home in the dark by myself last week. BUT-I had good reason:

1. The shuttle was late and I had a meeting to get to.
2. I only walked along well-traveled streets with plenty of people and cars.
3. I like walking at night all bundled up in my coat, scarf, hat, and gloves.
4. It wasn't really late at night, it was only dark because the sun sets at 5:30.
5. I would get back faster by walking than by taking the shuttle because it makes other stops after mine.

I did NOT walk back by myself in the dark last night, but you better believe I was some cranky about it. I waited for the shuttle in the cold. It was 20 minutes late.

Also, I lost one of my earrings, so the day did not end on the most positive note. But I did pick out some lovely paint swatches at Home Depot for my new room with names like Sonata and Velvet Sky, so I suppose all was not bad.

Hit the Ground Running

2010-01-04T21:51:00.000-08:00

I'm back in Savannah and, my is it cold. I flew in on New Year's Eve and spent the evening with Ana, Diedeliff, and Kyle. We went to 5 Guys for dinner and then walked around City Market a bit looking for a shimmering peach that was supposed to drop at midnight. We never found it as there were SO MANY people in the way. And we missed the ball drop on TV too because, even though we were back in the room unpacking with the TV on, Ana was telling a story of her and a blizzard. It wasn't until 2 minutes later when Kyle realized it was the new year. We celebrated with freeze pops because the 2 of-age people in our group (ahem...Kyle and Diedeliff) refused to go buy us some bubbly. Rude.

New Year's Day was spent doing RA-ey things, and Thea moved back on Saturday! We went to Starbucks then LateCHURCH on Sunday morning, as per our previous routine, and spent the day grocery shopping, talking, flipping through magazines, talking, watching a movie, giggling, talking, et cetera and so on and so forth. It was lovely.

It was hard to accept that school began on Monday, but begin it did, whether or not I was ready for it (I wasn't). I made a very large weekly calender thingie where I wrote down everything happening this week. It very deceivingly made it look like I had lots of free time. And now I must further amend the calendar to add in 10 or 11 or 17 new events and deadlines approaching awfully soon. This RA and school business is really cutting into my life. I am here to have a good time and to socialize, and as the week fills up, it keeps squeezing all that fun stuff out. Rude.

But seriously, I did very much enjoy my Typography class this evening and, while my Drawing II class still causes me to hyperventilate a little every time I think of it, I think it'll be okay. As long as Ana and I can get a cheeseburger and milkshake for lunch afterward, I will be just fine.

Final Stretch

2009-11-14T17:51:00.000-08:00

It's the final weekend, and I feel like I'm cheating a little bit. All of my friends and pretty much every SCAD student I know are scurrying around, sleep-deprived, trying to finish up final projects. I however went down to the lab yesterday, did a few hours of work, and felt like I was in a good place and could dedicate today to a shopping adventure with Ana. And that's what I did. I went shopping today and, for under $100, I bought a fantastic pair of trouser jeans, white slacks, 2 nice tops, a dress, and a sparkly pink scarf. I have so many more clothing combinations to consider now. Which is good, but it's also bad because I probably just added about 35 minutes to the time it takes me to pick out what to wear.

All that to say, I feel a little guilty because I don't have nearly as much work as everyone else and can spend the Saturday before finals at the outlets with a 30% off coupon.

Aside from that, I have been waiting all week to get paid so that I can go shopping because I haven't been shopping since mid-August and I suddenly got the urge to get new things. So I thoroughly enjoyed my Saturday.

I'll be home in 6 days! It's exciting stuff. I have been gone 11 weeks so far and I think it's high time to go home. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I get a real job and they don't have breaks for me to go home every 2 months or so. That's something I'll tackle when I get to it I suppose.

Anywho, my parents are picking me up from the airport Friday night and we're going to Camellia Grill, and I'm going to get a job, and I'm going to cook, and I'm going to read and study, and I'm going to do all manner of other things. Not all in one night of course, although Camellia Grill will happen the night I fly in.

For Thanksgiving, we're going to drive over to Laffy to pick up Marisa and it'll be a mini road trip to Pineville. We're just going to put Mama and Daddy and Wesley in the back seat and pretend like it's just the two of us and belt out all the new music I got. There will be some Owl City, some Rihanna, some Sweet Caroline, some Michael Buble. I know, it's quite a mix. Wesley will be begging us to stop 4 minutes into the trip, but we'll just pretend like we can't hear him.

I have all this stuff I've planned to do over the break because if I don't, I'll be bored out of my mind and that is one of the worst feelings. I also have to have a plan for when I come back in January, you know, new goals and the like.

Goal #1 I am going to exercise again. I slacked off this quarter with all the busyness of RAing and classes and such, but my schedule next quarter should be better and more conducive to working out.

Goal #2 I am going to do at least 3 volunteer projects with SOS, like Pet Project with the Humane Society or heART with the kids at the hospital.

Goal #3 I am going to set up a weekly or bimonthly program for me and my residents at Mr. Pizza or Gallery Espresso or something. Emily is crazy busy with architecture stuff and she still has a time every week to meet with her residents. So if she can do it, I can do it.

Goal #4 Thea will be here! So it goes without saying that I will have to be much more on top of my time management so that I can spend every spare second at her apartment cooking and laughing and painting our toes and having girl talk.

Gahhh! Can't wait to be home!

Creole Belle

2-Week Rundown

2009-10-27T15:52:00.000-07:00

Two weekends ago, I went camping with CSF at Unicoi (Unicorn) State Park, 2 hours north of Atlanta. It was perfect. I haven't been camping in years and I don't think doing it girl scout-style really counts. It was awfully chilly, the trees were changing colors, I could see the stars (like, all of them), we slept outside, there were mountains, I went hiking for the first time, and sat out on the dock by the lake under a big, looming mountain. It was the most wonderful 44 hours.

This past weekend, I cooked. It's for another magazine project, big surprise there. I made creamy broccoli soup, butternut squash risotto, roasted chicken thighs, and an apple spice coffee cake. Originally, the plan was to also have sauteed green beans, but I was tired and they never quite materialized. So I've been eating the leftovers from Saturday for the past few days and am quite satisfied with not going to Scafe to eat.

The magazine project is trying to kill me though. I can make a lovely 12-page spread with pretty pictures and perfectly coordinating colors, but my professor doesn't want that. He didn't like my neatly organized content and columns. He said he wanted me to forget everything I remember about magazines and use my imagination. Ahem, excuse me professor, my imagination doesn't spit out chaotic compositions like many art students'. I like lots of white space and clean lines and pure colors.

I forgot to mention, the use of computer is not allowed. As in, I cannot compose my magazine on the computer and print it out. Everything must be done by hand. And it must be university-level work. I suppose SCAD took it to heart when I told them in my admissions essay that I love challenges.

Something Cute

2009-10-12T21:06:00.000-07:00

I took a stroll down Broughton Street this afternoon to look for a birthday gift for Kaleigh. Her birthday is RAPIDLY approaching and I, a girl who prides herself on giving good gifts to her friends, couldn't think of a thing for her.

Hoping that stopping in some of the cute little shops like Vintage General and Paris Market would spark my imagination, I took a peek into Goodwill because they sometimes have a nifty doohickey or two. Last year, I found this fantastic doodad.

Today, I happened upon this lovely little ramekin and I got so very excited. It was both microwave oven and freezer proof. It was only 75¢. It was quite obviously meat to be mine.

I can do so many things with this! I can make a creme brulee, a double chocolate bread pudding, a pots de creme, a souffle, and a flan. Except that I don't really like flan. It's just on the list because I could make it if I wished to do so. Or I could make this. Or this. Ooh, or this.

All of my single serving dishes will be just darling. I can't wait!

Enough With the Oversleeping Already!

2009-10-01T15:18:00.000-07:00

Picture this.

It's 7:56 a.m. You blink your eyes open and notice that the light is different than when you usually wake up. You quickly roll over ad check your cell phone and realize what time it is.

Let me interject here to tell you some things you should know at this point.
1. You have a project due at 8 a.m.
2. It takes you about 10 minutes to ride your bike to class.
3. If you are 15 minutes late, you are officially counted as absent and absent people cannot turn in projects because THEY ARE NOT THERE.
4. There is no late work allowed in college.

You deduce that the 4 hours of sleep you got caused you to sleep through both of your alarms. You gasp and bolt out of bed, somehow managing to make it out of the door by 8:01. You open the door to class at 8:09, breathing heavily, and everyone turns around and laughs at you, including the professor. This is a very good sign. It means you are not absent. It means they understand. It means you are welcome to join their little critique circle once you tack your project to the wall.

That was Monday. Today was pretty much the same story. I didn't have a project to turn in and I got a little more than 4 hours of sleep, but I still slept through both alarms. That did not start happening until the end of spring quarter last year, so I don't know what's up with it starting so early this school year.

Getting to bed earlier is not the solution to this problem because I have to be up late a few nights each week for RA stuff. I will just need to schedule naptime into my day. It'll be like kindergarten all over again.

2009-09-27T09:40:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, Ana asked me what I was doing on Friday. I tried to think of anything that I had going on, and then I saw the look in her eyes and knew what my answer was supposed to be.

"Going to the beach?" I responded tentatively.

"Yeah!"

The weather was fantastic. The water was perfect. I got a tan. It was a good day.

This is my favorite face.

This is my favorite blonde. Her name is Emily. Coincidentally, she is also my favorite Emily.

This is Alex catching a Frisbee.

Diedeliff thinks 1 pair of shades is not enough. He needs both mine and Emily's.

Emily, Claire, me, and Ana-the girls.

So Happy

2009-09-23T16:11:00.000-07:00

Monday and Tuesday of this week were full. Slammed. Very busy. Etc. You get the picture. There was a speech involved and there were projects to complete and meetings to attend. All went well in case you were wondering. Most exciting however, was the Bible study last night.

One of the RA's (we'll call him Diedeliff) decided he wanted to start a Bible study and was all, "Hey Arielle, when would be a good night for it?" He is new at SCAD and assumed I knew things that he didn't (what with me having been here for a year already) such as when is a good night for people to come. So I was all, "Diedeliff I really don't know." and then he was like, "Big help."

Not really.

Yes, anyway, the first one was last night. We watched a Rob Bell video and discussed it and 3 of my residents came and we all got ice cream and talked for far too long. It was wonderful. I'm sure I said that I had to go back to my room and work numerous times throughout the evening, but didn't actually leave until almost midnight. Only getting 5 hours of sleep was worth it to able to stay and talk though.

I love those times when it's absolutely clear that God knows exactly what He's doing. I love realizing that I'm right where God wants me to be. I love that God is doing things far beyond what I could imagine and is allowing me to be a part of it.

I love where I am.

Arielle

I Now Know How to Change a Tire

2009-09-18T07:26:00.000-07:00

Thursday began as an adventure. At least that's what I'm choosing to call it. I refuse to label a day as bad because then it surely will be. It's as if once I say it, I have cursed the day and then I'm doomed. Ana, the roomie, switched into my Survey of Computer Arts Applications class, so I was going to ride with her to class instead of taking the bus. When we got to her car, I went around to the passenger side to discover that her front tire was flat. Lovely. Our only other option was to take the bus. The bus was late and the driver was clearly new. It was not an ideal morning, to say the least.

After class, we geared up to change a tire, which included changing out of our cute clothes into more appropriate tire-changing apparel. Decked out in t-shirts and gym shorts and armed with 12-step instructions on how to change a tire, we marched down to Ana's car. I am proud to announce that we successfully changed her tire in 20 minutes. We were feeling pretty good about our first attempt, and if the doughnut we put on hadn't been flat, it would have been perfect.

Note to self: When I own a car, keep air in the spare tire.

Exhausted, so I'll keep it short

2009-09-16T19:35:00.000-07:00

I have had all of my classes at least once, so I can now say that I am happy with my selections. I only have to buy one textbook and few art supplies, as opposed to the $200 I spend on supplies PER CLASS. Needless to say this quarter will provide a welcome break from the usual depletion of my bank account.

I am taking Intro to Graphic Design which should be a good indicator of whether or not I want to choose it as my major or stick with industrial design. My friend Claire, who I was with last quarter in Intro to Industrial Design, spoke with our professor the other night and he was very adamant about getting me to return to the ID department. His exact words were something along the lines of "If Arielle leaves ID I'll kick her a--." Yes, Ringholz is a very sweet, mild-mannered man.

That is all I will say about classes for now because, frankly, I am exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that I almost fell asleep in class. Twice. I do not sleep in class. Ever. Not even when I am sick and forget to take non-drowsy medicine and struggle to keep my eyelids up.

I probably need some sleep.

Good night and more to come tomorrow,

Creole Belle

Move-In Day

2009-09-11T13:08:00.001-07:00

Well, no surprises here. I have lost my chapstick. Again. I am notorious for losing chapstick. Marisa got me Burt's Bees Pomegranate Oil lip balm for my birthday because she is well aware of this fact. I really do try to keep them all over the place (on my desk, by my bed, in each of my purses) so that I always have one with me, but alas, I have managed to misplace one. No worries though, because I am determined to find it. I'll be sure to keep you posted with future developments on the chapstick front.

Today was Move In Day. About half of my residents checked in, so I'll be getting the rest in tomorrow. I was cooped up in my room from 7 this morning to 5 this evening explaining and re-explaining paperwork. It actually got to be kind of fun because I got to chat with them and their parents and they appreciated the interesting questions I put on my survey. I asked them questions like If you could live in any house from any movie, which would you choose? and What are you wearing today that is most representative of who you are? Why? and etc. I think I got a pretty fantastic group of freshmen, but I guess I'll see when the rest of them come in tomorrow.

After filing the paperwork for the day and grabbing dinner with the RA's, we got together to play volleyball, as we have for the past few nights. I really think I could play all night. Though I've never officially been on a sports team (besides t-ball when I was 4), I think beach volleyball is my calling. I have discovered that diving with abandon into the sand is exhilarating. It actually doesn't matter whether or not I touch the ball, as long as I can dive, on my knees, my stomach, my side, it doesn't matter.

Additional note: Magic Bullet Blender doohickeys are pricey. I try and try on eBay and the prices just keep escalating to well beyond my price range.

And these are my thoughts/doings for the day. Please excuse their scattered nature. I am probably sleep deprived, but am too delirious to come to a decision on that point.

Good Night,

Creole Belle

Ahh! The Freshmen are Coming!

2009-09-10T19:57:00.000-07:00

Today was the final day of RA training. I have been nonstop for the past two weeks, 8 a.m.-9 p.m. because there are apparently lots of things one should learn before being in charge of 30-50 students.

I'm excited for this year, even though being an RA still intimidates me a little, because we pretty much have the most awesome staff ever. I've connected with so many people over the past two weeks (RAs, CAs, RDs, and student ambassadors), I may not have any bonding left to share with my residents when they move in. Which happens tomorrow by the way. Let the madness begin.

Risa's Birthday

2009-08-20T07:04:00.000-07:00

Because I am the fabulous sister that I am, my flight to Texas was scheduled to fly out on the morning of Marisa’s 18th birthday, a day awaited with Much anticipation by my sister. Much anticipation. To make it up to her, I took her out to celebrate the day before. We started things off with doctor appointments. I know, we sure do know how to party. Pedicures were next and oh so very nice. As I haven’t gotten a pedicure in a number of years, say 4 or 5 or 8, I was thrilled at having my feet scrubbed and it was a welcome change to have someone else pick at my toes. My toes are now a lovely coral color and my feet are so soft they keep sliding around in my shoes which is making walking somewhat difficult. I complained to Marisa that my toes were cramping up from trying to grip my shoes. She ignored me.

We went to Port of Call for lunch, the first time for both of us. The best burger in the city doesn’t taste how I thought a top quality burger would taste. I wasn’t disappointed, the burger was thick and juicy and delicious and pink. I have long dreamt of eating a pink burger. They don’t overwork the meat though, they form the patties then season the outsides; I’m accustomed to seasoning all the way through the burger, the way my daddy makes them.

Burgers at Port of Call don’t come with fries; they some with a baked potato. It’s quite hearty and substantial, as you would imagine. I think I downed my burger and potato in about 8-10 minutes. When I finished, I noticed that Marisa was almost done her potato and still had half a burger to work on. She couldn’t believe I finished everything and wasn’t stuffed. I also noticed that, at the next table over, police officers were eating the same lunch as Marisa and I and I began to wonder about my eating habits. If a burger and potato is enough to satisfy hungry NOPD officers and they take almost as long as Marisa to eat, what is wrong with me? It was sort of a disturbing revelation.

We headed down to Magazine Street for a while until dinnertime when we would head back to the Quarter for dessert at Red Fish Grill. We thought it best to wait on dessert after such a lunch, and we probably still wouldn’t be hungry by dinner anyway. We got to Red Fish before the dinner crowd and were so giddy about our dessert. We told our fantastic waiter Roy exactly what we came for and he wished Marisa a happy birthday. So sweet. When he brought out the double chocolate bread puddings we were practically beside ourselves. When he drizzled on the chocolate ganaches, we wanted to marry him. I’m sure the entire restaurant heard our moans and groans while we ate our decadent dessert. Shamefully, we couldn’t even finish them and had to have them packaged up to take with us. We were in ecstasy as we ate the intensely chocolate dessert and giddy as we walked down Canal St. You could not stop us from smiling. I’m sure we practically floated.

We declared it the best dinner we ever had and plan to repeat the experience when we come home for winter break. We also left Roy a lovely comment card where Marisa professed her undying love to him. We expect him to be there when we return.

Can it be next Wednesday already?

2009-08-13T20:09:00.000-07:00

Two weeks have passed since the end of camp, and I have never experienced such mind-numbing boredom as I am now. You know, with the exception of last summer when camp ended. I am in this awkward in-between phase. I'm finished with work and waiting to go back to school. The time is occasionally punctuated by bursts of activity such as seeing a movie, shopping for school, cooking dinner, reading a book, and exercising, but all of the intermittent time seems to stretch on forever. Sure, there are things I can do, like write a letter, paint, sketch, reorganize the 1000+ recipes saved on my computer, but I just don't feel like doing anything. It's an issue.

And here are the much awaited (ha!) updates from the past week:

1. As I ride my bike around the neighborhood, I have to keep my mouth shut so the bugs won't get in. I know that they are there because I can feel them slapping against my arms and face as I cut through the humid evening air like lightning at about 10 miles an hour.

2. I saw Julie & Julia yesterday and was entranced by the bruschetta that Julie made early on in the movie. I was still thinking about it hours later.

The movie was pretty good and I loved Meryl Streep's portrayal of Julia Child. I felt that, in one of the letters Julia writes to her friend that says "I am the only woman in the world who enjoys shopping for food in Paris more than shopping for dresses," that I could relate. I can so relate. You and me too Julia.

3. Texas in 6 days. Friends in 6 days. I can barely contain myself and I don't know how I'll make it to next week.

4. God's word never returns void and to this I cling. And God provides. And He loves me not for what I do good (because He knows it's not much), but because that's just who He is.

5. I finally know who my roomie is this year and, to be quite honest, I am very excited.

6. Francine Rivers is a wonderful story-teller and I wish I could tell a story like that. I've just read some of her books about the women in the lineage of Jesus and they are so encouraging.

I believe that may be all for now. Good night.

Creole Belle

The Birthday

2009-08-04T13:01:00.000-07:00

When I told people what I wanted to do for my birthday, they sort of cocked their heads and questioned, “You really want to cook all day on your birthday?”

Yes, yes I do. It’s like you don’t know me at all.

And because birthdays after 18 aren’t cause for major celebration, save a few big ones, I needed to find something to compensate for all the Barbie-themed parties and trips to laser tag that I’ll miss out on. Thus, I’ve decided that I’ll take the opportunity to celebrate by cooking whatever I’ve been dreaming about making for the previous year. It’ll be a time when I can splurge on expensive ingredients and spend the day diving into all manner of culinary exploits that no sane person would tackle all at once.

First on the menu were sticky buns. Real, homemade, gooey stick buns. Unfortunately, there were no sticky buns on my birthday. After 8-10 hours of trying different dough recipes with the same un-risen results, I called it quits and was more than a tad disappointed. I will attempt them again one day soon, but the scars haven’t yet healed from that day.

Speaking of scars, I stabbed/sliced/pricked my left hand at least 4 or 5 times throughout the day. Painful though it was, I continued on in my culinary pursuits. For dinner, I recreated the whole “Modern Fiesta” feast from Bon Appetit May 2009.

Chili-Corn Custard Squares
Tomato Cucumber Gazpacho
Mexican Seafood Sauté with Avocado-Mango Salsa
Rice with Summer Squash, Red Peppers, and Roasted Pepitas
Spicy Black Beans with Chorizo and Chipotle Cream

Ohh it was good. The gazpacho was INCREDIBLE and so fun to make. Fresh vegetables whirling around in the food processor—so pretty.

The only items I didn’t make were the sundaes. I’ve made them before and they are quite good, but since I was making an elaborate cake, I thought the sundaes would have been a bit much. And this cake! Perfection. I was looking for a challenge and something that would make a statement. Mm. hmm. This cake was it.

Almond Praline Cake with Mascarpone Frosting and Chocolate Bark

Yes, it was a good day. And I am already planning for next year.

Coconut Chicken Noodle Somethingorother

2009-07-28T19:05:00.000-07:00

Reuben planned to make fried chicken and brussel sprouts for dinner and I was all, "Whatever, fine with me." And then he knocked on my door and asked me how to make fried chicken. Lovely. And then there was no fried chicken for dinner. The end.

Not really, I had to step in because the chicken was about to be ruined. Not that I am any sort of chicken genie because chicken breasts are a pain to cook right, but I knew I could probably redeem some sort of meal from the ill-fated chicken.

So I turned to my trusty new favorite website, Epicurious, to look for some chicken recipes because they have never done me wrong in the 2 months I've been using the site. There's been grilled chicken breasts in spiced yogurt, bistro fries, baked flounder with tomato-caper sauce, penne with turkey sausage, spinach, and nutmeg, and so on and so forth, all delicious.

Alas, all of their recipes for chicken breasts did not suit, especially with the limited ingredients we had. I was all alone in my quest for a decent chicken dinner, so I improvised. There was some sauteing of the chicken, some sauteing of onions and bell pepper, some coconut milk, green onion, ginger, coconut flakes, and soy sauce. All poured over some rice noodles. Or cellophane noodles. Or rice sticks. Or what-have-you. And, GOOD GRAVY, it was good. It was just one of those rare (very rare) times when I don't burn one of my concoctions or add too much of an ingredient or season it wrong. I actually jumped up and down in excitement after tasting it. This is not a typical response to my cooking. This is a never response. I always find something wrong with my food and can't truly enjoy it, but not with this.

And this dish doesn't even have a name. How sad. I'll probably remember it as That Dinner That Came Out Good. Not to be confused with those other dinners of my own creation that came out right, because there haven't really been any.

Bittersweet

2009-07-26T20:20:00.000-07:00

This next week is my last at work. It's going to be bittersweet. Sweet because
1. Today I helped my daddy fix the CD player in the car. That means Marisa and I won't be subject to whatever the radio plays anymore. For the past 2 or 3 weeks all we've been able to listen to is the radio and, good gravy, DO THEY EVER PLAY ANYTHING NEW? So we'll have good and VARYING music on the commute to and from work.
2. Big paycheck.
3. No more crazy little ragamuffins and hooligans.

Bitter because
1. Last big paycheck of the summer.
2. No more crazy little ragamuffins and hooligans.
3. Last week of free snowballs, popsicles, and ice cream. I know, tragic.
4. On Friday afternoon when all the kids get cans of silly string, I am 100% positive that they will make it a top priority to chase me down. It's not that I've made so many enemies, but so many friends. And this is apparently how children treat their friends, by hosing them down with silly string in spite of the pleas for mercy.
And 5. I like this job. It's been something different everyday. I'll especially feel its absence next month when all of my time will be occupied with demanding tasks such as staring into space and walking in circles around my house looking for something to do.

Yes, one month left of freedom before the start of RA training. I've made a list of activities for myself because what with all of the free time, I won't have a clue what to do with myself.

Make bread. From scratch.
Read all of those books that I have not yet read.
Make ice cream. From scratch.
Take pictures of the Garden District, Uptown, and Magazine St.
Blog about all of those recipes that I have not blogged about.
Keep running until I eventually melt into a puddle because of the humidity.
Visit Kaleigh and Thea in Texas!! This is iffy, but I really, really want to.
Make it to Port of Call before I leave the city.

That's a pretty sufficient list, especially because every one of those items, save the last one, will take a number of days to accomplish. Who knows, maybe I'll actually get some of it done.

I May Become a Sailor Yet

2009-07-14T19:38:00.000-07:00

And so I feel that I am a bit of a nerd. Well, not a nerd, I'm not sure if there is a name for this, but I am very much into this show on the History Channel called Dogfights. It's about the fighter planes and jets since the beginning of fighter aircraft used in combat, so from World War I up to Operation Desert Storm. They recreate the battles between American and enemy aircraft using 3D animation, break down the tactics and strategies used by the pilots, cover the specs of the different aircraft (speed, maneuverability, armament, etc. ), and feature interviews with the pilots. I find it all very fascinating, as I am wont to find things such as the history of war, military strategy, and the like.

What do you call someone with these interests? I'm not sure "military brat" fits, even though my daddy was in the Air Force.

Whatever it is, I may be taking it too far. I was playing ships and sailors with the kiddies in the gym at camp, and as captain, it is my job to give them orders. I call out "ships" and they run to the right wall, "sailors" sends them running left, "hole in the boat" and they run to the middle of the floor, and so on and so forth. When I say "captain's coming," they should snap to attention and say, "Sir, yes sir!" and stay in that position until I give them leave to move. Most of them do so, but some allow their arms to slack a little or they start giggling and whispering to their friends. I walk up and down the rows inspecting them, calling them out for doing something wrong. I get all up in their faces and yell and throw out phrases like, "I will not tolerate this insubordination on my ship!" and, "Walk the plank!" I was filling the role of captain quite enthusiastically.

I haven't a clue from whence this sudden militaristic inclination hails, but I'm sure my daddy would be proud.

They Learn So Young

2009-07-09T16:10:00.000-07:00

While on the bus taking the kids to the pool, a fellow counselor tells one of the little boys to tell me his joke.

Celeste: Jonathan, tell Ms. Arielle your made-you-look joke.

Jonathan (pointing): Look! Shoes on sale!

Ms. Arielle (head whipping around): Gasp! Where!?

Jonathan: Made you look!

Ms. Celeste: Isn't it crazy how they know that already? He's only 5.

Friend of the Day

2009-07-03T21:13:00.000-07:00

Kaleigh came in to town today, joy! She was actually in Louisiana last night and the fact that we were so close but not actually together just seemed wrong to me. As if there was no excuse for me not to jump in the car and drive for 2 hours to see her only to turn back around because it's past our bedtime and drive the 2 hours home again, all the while knowing that I would see her today. Did you get all that?

So. Kaleigh and Brady (the boyfriend) and his parents, sweet sweet lovely people, picked me up and off we went to enjoy all the heat and traffic that New Orleans has to offer on this Independence Day/Essence Festival weekend. They dubbed me tour guide and I freaked on the inside because, in spite of growing up in the city, I don't actually know that much historical stuff about it. As tour guide, it was obviously my duty to give directions. Driving directions. Again, in spite of growing up in the city, I don't actually know that much about getting from place to place. I have to call two or three people for very specific directions so I know how to get somewhere and how to get back. Needless to say, most of my directions were precluded by long pauses of deep, conptemplative thought and peppered with phrases like "ummm...err....I think, no..." Thank you God for navigational systems, you know, the ones that aren't out to get me (ahem...my mother's, more on this later). With no major mishaps, we ate, we perused the French Quarter, we shopped, we ate, we ate some more, we talked about food. Oh did we talk about food. Brady's father and I bonded over our mutual love of culinary things.

The whole day was grand. Except when we were eating dinner and Kaleigh split with Brady but I didn't have Thea to split my food with. I felt her absence very acutely and promptly texted her, demanding that she fly herself down here immediately so that we can all be together. Thea had the nerve to protest that she could not do so on such short notice. Rude.

And then we had to say goodbye. Also rude.

Kaleigh! Don't leave me.

Creole Belle

New Shoes

2009-07-02T20:40:00.001-07:00

Once again, I have worn down my shoes beyond what is socially acceptable. But I always find something much more pressing to buy than shoes. I know, I’m being awfully rude to Shoes. Shoes have always been so good to me, unlike Shirts, Pants, Skirts, and Dresses. That crowd is always so finicky. Sometimes they play nice and cooperate and fit me beautifully, but mostly they do not. No, shoes have been the only faithful constant in my life (thank you Daddy for normal-sized feet). I can always find shoes when I shop. Shirts, Pants, Skirts, and Dresses—not so much.

Here are my lovely new kicks. Please note the cuteness. Thank you.

Just imagine this white one in red. It's divine.

Mother's Day Out

2009-06-29T21:59:00.000-07:00

As my Mother's Day gift to, well, my mother, I decided to give her a day. When I got home from school, we would go out on the town. I planned to spend all morning Uptown, on the streetcar, at the farmer's market, at Camellia Grill, at Cold Stone. Then we would venture to Whole Foods to pick up ingredients for an Indian feast for dinner. After making dinner, we would watch an old movie. It was a lovely plan, full of promise and good food.

With no camp this week, I decided to make today Mother's Day, and off we went. We stopped at Cafe Du Monde for breakfast, and stayed in a completely different part of town, never quite making it Uptown. No streetcar, no Camellia Grill, no Cold Stone, but also no worries because there was still food in abundance. After breakfast, there was shopping to be done. My mama insisted that I get new shoes, on her tab, and who was I argue with new shoes? Especially ones that I don't pay for?

We had great fun trying on hats before we actually got to the shoes. I have always assumed that hats are not for me. They have never looked right on me before and I simply had to accept the fact that me + hats were not meant to be. Today, however, I discovered the problem. I was wearing the wrong hats. Cute, small, fashionable caps don't do a thing for me; it's the big floppy ones that really do me justice. I'm so glad I've found this out. I no longer have to go through life without the happiness the right hat can bring.

Two new pairs of sandals later, we shopped some more of course. After trying on about 16 items, I kept the 2 that actually fit correctly and mozied on over to look at kitchen gadgets and doodads. I do this everywhere I go provided there is a kitchen department. It's an obsession, a sickness if you will. I refuse any and all treatment.

By the time we got out of there, we were quite famished and in the mood for sushi. Sushi is a completely natural reaction to a morning of shopping. Ask anyone. After sushi was Whole Foods, and good gravy, no one ever EVER let me in that place alone. I will either pass out from all of the choices/goodness/deliciousness or I will set up camp between the bakery and cheese department and they'll have to call security to remove me. The news stations will probably show up to get a good story on the crazed hack who thought it a good idea to make her home in Whole Foods. It'll be a big scandal and I may never recover from embarrassment so please do not let me go in there alone. Thank you.

We returned home from this lovely, off-the-itinerary day with happy hearts only to walk into a house with no A/C. Yes. No A/C. It broke. It was cooler outside than in. And more humid. It brought back memories of the dark, damp, electricity-less days of Hurricane Gustav. Not happy times, I assure you. But it's all good now, with the help of my daddy, a neighbor, and a screwdriver, I am currently sitting in a very cool house.

Thank you God for a grand day and cold air.

Creole Belle

Enough with the Weather Already

2009-06-23T20:01:00.000-07:00

I'm quite positive that this blog is beginning to sound like a stilted dinner conversation where the only discourse people can conjure is weather-related. Like that scene at the races in My Fair Lady where Professor Higgins instructs Eliza to only discuss one's health and/or the weather. I have covered both topics relentlessly in the last few weeks. And, please forgive me, I'm going to cover it once more.

Seriously, almost all we talk about in New Orleans is how hot it is. Ask anybody. And to prove what a conversation-worthy piece the heat is, here are some recent happenings:

1. Six streets have buckled in the past week. This may have more to say about the quality of the city of New Orleans' infrastructure than it does about the heat, but for the purposes of this argument, let's say it's because of the heat.

2. There is a heat advisory for the next few days. The temperature will not go below 80℉, even at night.

3. If you're into military jargon, it's black flag weather. Or something. I'm not really into military jargon.

4. I have become quite adept at driving with only two or three fingertips/fingernails. The steering wheel is just far too hot to touch for the first five minutes of driving.

Are there any snowball stands open at 7 a.m? I feel like I'm going to need a snowball. And keep 'em coming.

Creole Belle

Lack of Togetherness + Weekend Cooking

2009-06-21T20:17:00.000-07:00

One might think that after three weeks of being home from college, a person might have all of her stuff together. You know, her schedule worked out, her routine down. Well, one would be wrong. The Creole Belle, self-proclaimed organizer, scheduler, and all-around together girl, has yet to get a grip on her life for the summer. Maybe I've contracted an odd mutation of senioritis. Maybe the the very New Orlean-ese combination of heat and humidity is slowly making me lose my mind.

Or maybe it's because I jumped straight into a five day a week, 8 to 4 job (which is really more like a 7 to 5 job with the trafficky commute) only a single day after returning home from school.

Uh-huh. It's probably this one.

Now that I have self-diagnosed, I can attempt to remedy the problem, but finding down time now is just a tad difficult with my schedule. I may just have to wait for my July 4th week break.

But here's a quick recap of the week, for all two of you who like to occasionally check up on me during the summer.

Ummm...everyday seems the same. I should probably post more regularly in order to actually remember what goes on. What a curious concept.

I started working out again, strained a hamstring, went to a baseball game, trimmed my hair, saw The Proposal on Friday, and cooked and cooked and cooked all weekend.

I slept in until 9 a.m. on Saturday (I know, I just wasted the whole day and, believe me, someone has already given me plenty of grief over it) and I cooked for girl's night. We had a Mexican theme and I made sangria, rice, beans, and spiced chocolate sauce and toasted coconut for sundaes. Girl's night was just barrels of fun and I now have a sudden and fairly intense interest in toasted coconut and key lime pie. The toasted coconut is so super easy and I want to put on everything. Ice cream. Belgian waffles. Blueberries. French toast. Salad. Guacamole. Actually, not really guacamole.

All you do for the toasted coconut is spread some flaked coconut on a baking sheet, bake at 350℉ for 12 or so minutes, and stir every 3 or 4 minutes. See, nothing to it.

On Sunday, I cooked even more. I snacked on fresh-picked blueberries all day while I prepared black beans with lime, pork chops with a peach and red-onion relish, and grilled corn. Exciting news about the pork and the corn—I grilled them. Yes, my first real grilling experience. All by my onesie. My daddy, who had such faith in my first-time grilling skills, sat inside by the window, with me and the grill in full view, poised to rush to my aid should I begin screeching for help. However, there was no charred food or bursts of fire or any such nonsense that I expected would occur.

I feel like I cooked all weekend, which I sort of did, but I loved every second of it. It was marvelous, glorious, and all-around good fun. I don't know what I'll do back in Savannah without my KitchenAid and juicer and chef's knife and tongs and other kitchen favorites. I expect there will be some separation anxiety.

And There Will Probably Be Even More Chocolate To Come

2009-06-13T16:06:00.000-07:00

Th other night, I needed a very chocolatey dessert, but nothing so quick and easy was to be found. At one point during the day there had been chocolate ice cream in the house, but a person who shall remain nameless consumed it without regard to the low tolerance I have for lack of chocolate.

We didn't have all of the ingredients for any one recipe, so I improvised. I found chocolate chips, raspberries, condensed milk, cocoa powder, spices, shredded coconut. and macadamia nuts. I put them all out on the counter and stared at them. This didn't help spark any ideas WHATSOEVER. I have never wished so much that I was a baker-extraordinaire so that I could whip out a fabulous chocolatey baked dessert without a problem. But I am not so.

Thankfully, I did remember that we had vanilla ice cream, and I ended up with a spiced chocolate sauce and a raspberry sauce. I drizzled/dumped the sauces+coconut+macadamia nuts over the ice cream and was fairly satisfied with the result.

I would share the recipes with y'all, but I didn't use any. And I don't have a clue how much of each ingredient I threw into the pots. It's an issue. What if I want to make them again?

Someday I will concoct a dessert that involves strictly chocolate and condensed milk. I may even try to measure out the ingredients so that I will actually have a recipe to post. And maybe I'll add some beignets or bread pudding or something. Because y'all know I like to include many food groups in my meals. Because y'all know I'm healthy like that.

Love,

Creole Belle

Like I Really Need to Tell You About the Heat

2009-06-11T21:27:00.000-07:00

I had this plan to begin running again when I got home for the summer since my exercise regimen was, um, nonexistent for the last half of spring quarter. I was psyched. I was gonna run. And then I walked outside. Did y'all know it's like the surface of the sun in New Orleans in the summer? No, the sun might just be a more bearable than the N.O. because I don't think water exists on the sun what with the intense heat and evaporation and all.

Anywho, humidity is a plague upon the South and, because of it, I can't seem to summon any amount of energy to work out at the end of the day (a day in which half has been spent outside). It's an issue. Maybe I'll be able to drag myself out of bed at 5 a.m. to go running before work. That's if I can manage to get home before 7 o'clock each evening so that I can get to bed at a decent hour.

I thought things were supposed to slow down in the summer. Silly me.

Creole Belle

I Should Invest in a Liquid Nitrogen Gun for Personal Home Use

2009-06-09T21:14:00.000-07:00

I was hoping to sleep in this morning because I didn't have to go in to work until 1, but no such luck. I had to get up and bring Marisa over to Sara and Kylie's so she could get a ride to work. But I choose to be grateful for the extra 20 minutes of sleep I was able to get.

Moving on, I had a client meeting this morning. Yes, a real client. For whom I will be designing things and having said things printed. Professionally. I started getting nervous about it yesterday as if I haven't done something like this before. Maybe just because, for the past year, my clients have consisted of, well, me.

But I go through this cycle every time. I accept a project and think No big deal. Then the beginning approaches and I begin to freak out. Then I go all obsessive compulsive and do everything like the crazed perfectionist that I am. And then everything is fine. So really, the freaking out is a part of my creative process that is necessary in order to get work done. Hmm...curious.

After the meeting, I had a doctor's appointment where they gave me medication that gave me a number of brown spots all over my legs that caused my campers to ask me repeatedly why I had mud/chocolate/root beer on my leg. I told them it was from a mud bath/medicine/when I got thirsty and spilled. The doctor also used this gun-thingie with a needle-thingamabob on the end and shot me up with some liquid nitrogen. And because I know you are wondering, liquid nitrogen is cold, it stings, and it is very, very cold. It also stings. And is cold.

The rest of the day back at camp went just fine. My campers, they are the cutest things. More on them later.

Creole Belle

It's Been Quite the Cornicopia

2009-06-07T20:26:00.000-07:00

There has just been an abundance of food this weekend. I was inspired to cook Friday night because, among the other items I purchased during my pathetic trip to Wallyworld, I bought roasted red peppers, ginger root, ricotta cheese, and red onion. I wasn't going to use them all together, obviously, but I did want to do something with my somewhat gourmet ingredients. I am fully aware that those items are not gourmet, but that's about as fancypants as we get at my house.

I went for pasta with ground beef, roasted red peppers, ricotta cheese, and caramelized red onion. I also found a round of brie in the fridge and wanted to do brie en croute because...because...well I never really need a reason to make brie en croute. We didn't have the puff pastry, so I was going to improvise and wing it with some pie crust dough. I was getting all hyped about my brie when I opened the package and realized that it might be the very same brie I bought which ordinarily wouldn't be a big deal except that the last time I was home was about 5 or 6 months ago.

I couldn't just let the pie crust dough go to waste, so I pulled stuff from the pantry like nuts, semi-sweet and white chocolate chips, dried cranberries, brown sugar, and spices. I cut the dough into triangles and made little pastries with different combinations of the ingredients. It was cute because I didn't mark which pastries were which, so when they were done, I needed to take a bite out of all of them to see how they tasted. Only my mom didn't mind sharing my baking sheet of half bitten into desserts.

Some notes from Friday night cooking:

1. Sauteed red onion with brown sugar and a dash of cardamom is good. Really good. Use it wisely.

2. Ricotta cheese will make a lovely sauce for pasta, but not a hearty pasta like ruffles. Use a more delicate pasta or noodle.

3. If you're aiming to please a more refined palette, don't use sauteed ground beef in your pasta dish. It makes it taste like casserole. Casserole=not fancy.

4. Make twice as much sauce as you think you'll need and only use half of the pasta.

5. Add greens, like asparagus or wilted spinach. The green and red (roasted red peppers) is aesthetically pleasing because of the complimentary contrast and the... Can you tell I go to art school?

6. Use lots of filling in the pastries and more liquid. The insides come out too dry with only chocolate chips, nuts, or cranberries. Maybe some condensed milk will work. Mmmmm...I really shouldn't talk about condensed milk because then I can't think straight.

The meal turned out okay. Next time, I'll take my own advice (no. 2-6).

Saturday was Marisa's graduation shindig and there was typical barbecue fare—hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken, baked beans, pasta salad, 7-layer salad, chips, etc. And there was fruit pizza. Oh fruit pizza. It's another food I can't talk about for lack of clarity of thought. I couldn't stop eating it.

Today, I made the salad to go with dinner. I was excited about this salad because I have only been planning to make it for the past year. I had it once at the Bourbon House and it has just stayed with me. People say that all the time in romantic movies, "And he/she/you just kinda stayed with me." I feel that way about food.

Anywho, the salad is crazy simple—baby spinach leaves, thinly sliced red onion, spiced pecans, and balsamic vinaigrette. When I baked the pecans, the house smelled so good. Imagine it—cinnamon , nutmeg, cloves, white and brown sugar. Like I said, so good. The vinaigrette was super easy and not overpowering with the balsamic vinegar. The salad was mos def a success. I know because people besides me ate it.

And deviating from the food theme completely...I watched Meet the Robinsons today when I was watching my little cousins. I love that movie.

I just couldn't end the post without putting that in there.

Creole Belle

Am I technically under your roof if I camp out in the yard?

2009-06-04T20:11:00.000-07:00

So it was the last day of school. I had just given my presentation for industrial design and met my parents outside of the building, and we went back to the dorm to start packing up. It was great to see them after 5 months, but when we were in my room getting everything together, they were really stressing me out—telling me to hurry up, pack this first, no! do this now, I thought you said you were packed already?!

Having been on my own for 9 months and doing things my way without unsolicited outside input, this was not a good sign. I knew what people said about going back home the first summer after college and readjusting to being under parent rule, but I just didn't think these would apply to me so strongly.

So wrong was I.

I leave you with a final question:

What is the world coming to when a girl is struggling to spackle her dorm walls and the men lounge on beds nearby and tell her to hurry up?

Creole Belle

Lost and Exhausted on Aisle 6

2009-06-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

I don't want to be too premature in my hasting judgement, but I don't think I can work a 9-to-5 job. I have zero time to do anything. Including commute time, I am up at an extraordinarily early hour and don't get home until after 6:00 p.m., usually later. This is not going to work out so well in my future life. There must be alternatives.

I have also come to the realization that I can't function correctly on my own. This epiphany came in the aisles of Wallyworld this evening as I realized I CANNOT FUNCTION CORRECTLY ON MY OWN. Over the past few months, I have been conditioned to be with other people at all times and I found myself thinking I need Kaleigh and Thea. Even though I was only in Wallyworld to pick up a few groceries and the last time I went to a grocery store with Kel and Thea they seemed to revert back to toddlers, I needed them. I hadn't a clue how to go about shopping by myself. I mean, I had to push a basket. I don't push baskets. There are germs and I inevitably get the basket with all manner of issues. I got a noisy basket tonight, and when I brought it back, I got one that was blessedly quiet, but the steering was a mess. It was veering all over the place and was practically impossible to manage one-handed. My other hand was busy because I was on the phone with Thea asking her what type of coffee to buy for my mom. I spent a solid 15 minutes in that aisles trying to locate the correct coffee.

Dear Mom,

Don't send me to buy coffee.

Arielle

I wandered the aisles of Wallyworld for an hour looking for ingredients that I might somehow be able to use in a dish. I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, but I have been non-stop since I got home on Saturday and am exhausted. My eyes will barely stay open as I type this, so this is good night.

Love,

Creole Belle

The Best First Real Concert Ever

2009-06-02T20:29:00.000-07:00

For the past 2 weeks of school, there was a grand total of about 24 hours of sleep between me, Kaleigh, Thea, and Lauren. SCAD finals were trying to kick our butts. Everything sort of blurred together, even the four of us. It was never, "I have to do this," it was, "We need to do these things," and (most often), "When are we eating?"

We all pushed ourselves far beyond the limit in order to get everything done before the Hillsong United concert.

And it was worth it. Oh it was worth it.

The concert was Wednesday evening, the second to last day of classes. We left for Alpharetta at about 4:30 and got to the concert at 9:00. We missed an hour of Hillsong! Even more devastating was that we missed Brooke Fraser and her beautiful voice singing Hosanna, our favorite song. This just means we'll have to go to another concert. But the hour and half we were there for was incredible.

It was in a covered amphitheater and a storm rolled in soon after we got there. The cool breeze from the rain canceled out the hot, humid air. Seeing the lightning and and hearing the thunder while everyone was singing was amazing. It ended too soon.

We left the Alpharetta/Atlanta area at 11:45. We were wet and tired and hungry (when are we not hungry?), but so giddy. We never did find food, we didn't have much time to look for places tat were still open because Chase had to be at work for 4 a.m., but we did stop for the requisite Dr. Pepper. I drove the final 2 hours and rolled into Savannah at at 4:o0 in the morning, dropped Chase at work, and headed to the dorms.

I actually went to bed at 5:00 after showering and making sure I was set for my 8:00 a.m. presentation final for Intro to Industrial Design. Considering I only got and hour and a half of sleep, I was awfully chipper in the morning. And also a little delirious.

But the presentation went well and I got great feedback. Here's my final project, a pencil/pen/business card holder. I made it by laser-cutting acrylic sheets and heat-forming them with a heat gun. I know, it sounds super industrial of me.

Breakfast with the Girls

2009-06-01T21:48:00.001-07:00

This is a post I started writing on a Sunday about a week ago, so keep the dates in perspective. Thank you and here it is:

I was actually able to sleep in this morning. I didn’t have to wake up until 9:00 in the a.m. but even though I went to bed at 2, my body didn’t know what to do with all of the extra sleep and woke me up at 7:15 (the time I get up for class) and then again at 8:15 (the time I get up when I realize I have overslept for class). I suppose I should be thankful that my body is so concerned that I make it to class on time. At least it doesn’t hate me like that guy’s arm (House fans—you know what that’s about). Anywho, I decided to actually get up and write this post because who knows when I’ll get the chance to do it later.

This weekend has been so hectic what with it being my last weekend here and all. I have to start packing, I have final projects to complete, there was cooking to be done yesterday, and there are friends to hang out with before we all leave. And today is my last LateCHURCH until the fall. It is too sad for words.

On a happier note, I COOKED YESTERDAY. It was glorious. I had to get up so early to go to the grocery store and was on a budget and had a tiny kitchen to work in (tiny meaning “I have never seen a kitchen so small”), but Jenna had beautiful dishes and I got to try a bunch of recipes and (aaaaaaa!) I COOKED.

I attend a Bible study every Saturday morning, and last week I offered to cook breakfast for everyone. The girls all pitched in a few dollars and I was able to plan a menu, go to the store, and stay in the budget (this was an important one). It was lovely.

My friend Lauren, photographer extraordinaire, documented the morning with pictures.

I made apricot crisp, brown sugar bacon, spinach and onion frittata, biscuits, and mimosas. That brown sugar bacon was something else. Really, it didn't even matter that most of it was burnt.

I Know What I Said

2009-05-31T22:26:00.000-07:00

I know.

There was supposed to be a story today. Of cooking, or a concert or a project or something,
but who knew there would be so much to do the day after I got back and the day before I start work?

Not I, that's who.

Tomorrow. I promise. You'll see.

I Know, I Have Been Busy

2009-05-30T22:46:00.000-07:00

Oh my beautiful blog I have missed you.

This past week and a half has been so packed with everything but sleep. This is hardly an excuse for why I have neglected you, but it's all I got.

No worries blog, I will be back tomorrow to update you on all the recent and so-very-compelling events of my life because I am home now and suddenly there is time for things other than work and food.

Love,

Creole Belle

Cooking! Sort of.

2009-05-20T20:20:00.000-07:00

I was supposed to be at the beach this past Sunday evening. Alas, it was not meant to be because it rained all day, and has pretty much been raining ever since.

Yes, 180 was supposed to be at the beach and there was going to be sandwiches and chips and brownies and all manner of beach food. We still had all of those things, we just set up a beach at the 180 building with pillows and blankets all over the floor. It was lovely as a matter of fact. I think we should ditch the chairs every week and opt for the floor. I am so much more comfortable on the ground for some reason than I am in a chair. This may be a problem in my businessy-career-oriented future.

The really exciting thing about this weekend was not the beach however, it was the fact that I would get to cook! For the first time in ever! Even if it was only baking brownies from a box and arranging deli meat on a platter! I was psyched.

It was raining and cold and I had my apron, my cooking playlist on my iPod, and a kitchen with food. Ohhh I was happy.

This is Jenna. She does not normally wield long, pointy knives. This was apparently a special occasion.

These are pots. Oh I have missed you pots.

Those brownies. So good.

The ham and turkey were beautifully arranged on the trays thanks to me and Jenna.

Cool! I can zoom and blur with my camera!

Ew. There is just something wrong with this shot. I should really cut back on the zoom-and-blur.

There probably won't be much posting for the rest of the week because it's finals and everyone is crazy and sleep-deprived and hungry. All the time.

On that note, I did NOT eat a whole pizza for dinner. There were still two pieces left by the time I got through with it, thank you.

Creole Belle

I Do Not Understand

2009-05-18T21:10:00.000-07:00

I have to write a biographical article about myself based on an existing magazine article for Composition. Yes, I know, I was excited when I first heard too.

Not really.

But I ended up picking Bon Appetit as my magazine, so I get to talk about food!

I really tried to pay attention in class today, but all the pretty pictures in my magazine kept distracting me. There was no way I would be able to fully comprehend what was going on if my focus was split between my professor and Bon Appetit, so I corrected the situation and turned my full attention to my magazine.

It had some great menu ideas for summer that I cannot wait to try when I get home, but I had a hard time visualizing myself actually producing these summer meals because TODAY FELT LIKE THE DEAD OF WINTER.

Okay, so I exaggerate a bit, but in comparison with recent days when the weather has been at a consistent high of HOT and HUMID, the sudden (and very wet) dip into the 50's today felt like winter.

All I wanted to do was be inside of a real house all day where I could cook and read a book and watch a movie and have nice, hot, cheesy, meaty, pasta casserole for dinner. Alas, not one of these was possible today. If they had been, I would not have minded the weather, I would have embraced it.

Why is it so cold? and rainy? There is no reason for heaters to be on in May.

Someone please explain.

Thank you,

Creole Belle

A Random Assortment of Topics

2009-05-15T21:13:00.000-07:00

There's going to be a list today because I have more things to talk about than I have transitions for them.

1. Hallelujah there is hot water! I have been without it since Wednesday when the power was out all day. I can only take so much icy cold water in the shower and have far exceeded my quota for the year.

2. The Mark of the Lion trilogy by Francine Rivers is incredible. I have been so inspired and encouraged. I finished the first book two weekends ago and it has this enormous cliff-hanger-make-you-crazy ending that frustrated me beyond belief because I did not have the second book! and I needed it! I was able to get my hands on the next two books last weekend and finished them within a couple of days. I didn't want it to end!

3. I attended the Student Ambassador luncheon at the Pink House today.

It was nice.

The Pink House is some fancypants old restaurant that I've heard much about but never actually been to. The lunch was buffet-style and the menu consisted of:

Cherry Tomato and Sliced Radish Salad-thing
Simple Greens Salad w. Balsamic Vinaigrette
Crab Cakes w. Grainy Mustard Sauce
Baked Sweet Potatoes w. Brown Sugar Pecan Glaze/Sauce
Baked Chicken
Macaroni and Cheese
Collard Greens

Dessert:
Lemon Cheesecake Square and Ice Cream w. Berries in a Pecan Lacey Cup

I am definitely going to make those sweet potatoes and that incredible sauce. I don't really know what it was—chopped pecans, brown sugar, maybe maple?, maybe some rum? The crab cake sauce and dessert were my favorites though. I was a little wary of the mac and cheese and collard greens. They just didn't seem highfalutin enough to be served in the Pink House, but I would love to go back and order lots more swanky food.

4. It is supposed to rain for the next 10 days. I reject this forecast. There will be sun and tanning and outdoor activities galore all before I come home.

Whoop whoop! 2 weeks!

See that girl who looks like she just rolled out of bed? Yeah, that's not me.

2009-05-14T21:38:00.000-07:00

I spent all yesterday holed up in the dorms trying to finish my industrial design project so we could do a girls’ night.

For ID, we had to design a desk accessory/office supply doohickey. I did twelve different initial designs, chose the top three or four, and refined those designs, picked the best design one, did a scale model, and then had to do twelve variations of that model. Aaaa. So here’s a picture of yesterday: me with an Exacto knife and sheets of foam core. All day. I finished all twelve variations by 10:30 last night.

Now I could get to the important things—we had to paint our nails and do facials and burn CD’s! And Kaleigh had to pack because her boyfriend’s graduation is this weekend and she’s going home. Lucky girl.

Anywho, we needed to help her get ready because she had yet to pack and her flight was for 6:20 this morning.

Sooo…we gabbed and painted and ate and listened to music and fussed over clothes and there may or may not have been an inebriated and/or high roommate involved. Oh it was great fun.

It was about 1:30 this morning when I decided to head back to my room for some sleep, if only for a few hours. I was getting up to drive Kaleigh to the airport with Thea.

Even though I had a class at 8 a.m. Aaaa.

So I managed to roll myself out of bed at 4:45. We won’t talk about how, when I jumped into bed three hours before, I almost rolled right back off and scared myself silly.

Moving on, Thea and I dropped Kaleigh off at the airport and managed to find our way back. In the dark. In the rain. Without the light on the dashboard that showed how fast we were going.

I crashed as soon as I got beck to my room. I had just over an hour before I had to get up and go to class. Not that I wanted to go. There was going to be a photographer taking pictures of us working in the benchroom or the workshop or something and I am not a fan of the camera. But I had to turn in my models, so I had to go. Only 3 ½ hours and then I could go back to bed.

My alarm went off at 7:20 and I rolled over to turn it off. Two more minutes, I just need two more minutes.

I looked at my phone again to check the time.

8:55.

You know that first gasp for air after you’ve been underwater for too long? That was me when I realized my class had started an hour earlier. I jumped out of bed, pulled on my jeans, grabbed my models and ran out the door. Thankfully, the shuttle to take me to my class was at the bus stop, but they only run every hour in between class times, so I wasn’t going to get to class until about 9:40. Only an hour and 40 minutes late. No big deal.

Um, better late than never. But it was totally okay because my friend from the class was on the shuttle because she too had overslept.

When we finally got to class, we walked into the benchroom and the photographer was taking pictures of Ringholz and a student talking about a project.

“You missed the pictures,” we were informed as we walked in.

Lovely, I thought. Perfect timing. But then that dumb photographer walked over to us and said that he wanted to take one more set of shots. And he picked me. Me!

On a normal day I don’t want my picture taken. Why would I want my picture taken on a day where I only woke up about 30 minutes prior and didn’t touch my hair or make up? Plus, Claire is prettier than me and I’m almost positive that she’s a LOT more photogenic! Pick her pick her!

But no. Apparently it had to be the girl who just woke up because that photographer has this personal vendetta against me. And then, as if to strip away my last little bit of comfort, he wanted me to take off my comfy jacket. He said I didn’t need it and it didn’t work for the shot.

And there I was, hair looking like who-knows-what, no make-up except for some mascara from the night before, and no jacket to hide behind, but I sucked it up, took out my models, and discussed them with Ringholz while photo man snapped his little heart out.

If these pictures ever surface on some promotional SCAD material, I won’t be offended if you deny knowing me. I’ll probably deny myself.

Creole Belle

It's Not My Fault

2009-05-13T22:08:00.000-07:00

It really isn't. I'm not lazy. The internet has just been going in and out for the past few days. Actually, it has been decidedly more out than in. So please excuse the lack of posting.

As it is, I am too tired right now to explain the last few days, so expect a full report when I my eyelids remain open longer than 30 seconds or so.

Creole Belle

Care for a Dip in the Arctic Anyone?

2009-05-11T21:22:00.000-07:00

My A/C was broken this weekend. For any of you who didn't know what happened this weekend, Savannah experienced record-breaking humidity levels. It was all over the national news, I'm surprised you didn't already know.

Wait, you say that no such thing appeared on the news? Well, that may be true as I was probably HALLUCINATING because as I said IT WAS HOT. AND HUMID. AND I HAD NO A/C.

You would think I would be over this whole humidity issue by now what with having grown up in the South and all, but the truth is you never get over humidity.

I don't know that I can take being damp all the time. It's like Gustav all over again. I wasn't dry for 3 days after the hurricane/tropical storm/whatever-it-was. We had to keep the windows open for air flow because we were without A/C because when there is no electricity, there is no air. Thus is life.

Marisa and I laid there in the guest bed for hours waiting for just one cool breeze to come through the window. It was not fun.

What did people do without electricity? I cannot fathom it.

Another dilemma-How does one maintain a sense of modesty when it's so hot that you really just want to wear as little clothing as possible? And when I say as little as possible, I mean like just a sarong. A short one.

Please send help.

But, ultimately, God is good and the cool air now floweth forth from the A/C.

Hallelujah.

And I Just Cannot Wait

2009-05-08T20:35:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, it is spring, people. There are 2 weeks and 6 days left of the quarter and you can feel it. Finals are coming up but you would never know by the number of students you see ditching class to go to the beach or hang out in the park. And then there are those of us who have this conviction that we should go to class, but spend the entire time staring out the window because the outdoors—it calls to us.

2 weeks and 6 days. Is it strange that I have already started reorganizing everything in order to pack it as quickly and efficiently as possible? I'll be so excited to move out of the dorms. I'll be so excited to no longer have to eat at J.O,'s or Scafé. I am done with them and I just can't take no mo'.

I have so many other things to be excited about. His Girl Friday is online and I can watch it for free! The Student Ambassador luncheon is next Friday and it's at the Pink House! Fancypants restaurant + me in a cute dress. It's going to be fabulous. And, ahem, most important of all...

HILLSONG CONCERT.

IN ATLANTA.

2nd TO LAST DAY OF CLASSES.

I HAVE MY TICKET.

There may not be words to describe it, but I sure will try.

Creole Belle

Happy National Day of Prayer

2009-05-07T19:58:00.000-07:00

It's not too late! If you forgot or if you just didn't know that today is the National Day of Prayer, you still have time to send a up quick prayer to God. Or a long prayer. He's really okay with either one.

Pray for this nation.

Pray for your families and friends.

Pray for whatever!

He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life I will satisfy him,
And show him My salvation.

Psalm 91: 15-16

Love,

Creole Belle

Moms Say the Darnedest Things

2009-05-05T22:03:00.000-07:00

I went to a women's brunch on Saturday and, oops, I was late. While trying to find the entrance to the building, I noticed a woman just arriving herself. As she entered the building I heard her tell someone inside, "Oh I haven't been on time since I had my fourth child."

Is this what my life will come to? If I have children will I never be on time again?

I don't want to be late. I am all about the promptness. Ask anyone. Just don't ask me why I was late for the brunch. It wasn't my fault.

Creole Belle

I Blame It On My Pants

2009-05-04T21:05:00.000-07:00

This is the second time my black shorts have caused me lost cell phone grief. The first time was in Disney World-another story for another time. The second time was today. I had my phone when I got on the bus; I didn't have it when I got off. I didn't realize this until the bus had left.

Aaaa!

I was ticked. The lame pockets of these shorts hated me. They insist on chucking everything I put in there to hold.

I kept trying to think of worse things that could have happened, how cell phones are completely replaceable, how someone might just find my phone and call Kaleigh to return it to me.

Kaleigh, loyal friend that she is, called my phone all afternoon in hopes that someone would find it and, in the search to find a contact, would see that she called 20 ,000 times and just call her back.

Even this helpfulness could not take away my irritated state. I was out of contact with the entire world, even though almost everyone I know in Savannah lives within a 100 yard radius of me. It was just a phone for crying out loud. I shouldn't have been so attached that I felt somewhat not whole without my phone.

Thankfully, this evening the very kind bus driver called Kaleigh on my phone and arranged for me to retrieve it. I was ecstatic. My whole mood changed instantly. I thanked God for His answer to my prayer.

Now, with my phone safely back in my possession, I realize some adjustments need to be made in regard to my attachment to it. It is not the end of the world people. It is just a phone.

I Have an Idea

2009-05-01T22:13:00.000-07:00

Here it is:

Let's pretend like the past 48 hours never even happened. Well, except for the last 6 hours, those have been good. But any time before that is being completely erased. Wiped from my memory. Never to be thought of again. So please don't talk about them. Deal?

Thanks.

Arielle

God is Still Good, So Tomorrow Will Be Better

2009-04-30T20:09:00.000-07:00

I am done.

Stick a fork in me and call me toast because I am done.

I am so done.

Things that bothered me today:

1. Tour buses
2. Tourists
3. Drivers- Rude!
4. Men

Really, if I get one more honk or one more dirty old man approaching me there is no telling what I'll do. I decided to take a break and eat lunch outside today. I chose a square and deemed it safe because there were people sitting or eating lunch all over it. I finished my lunch and won the battle with myself on whether to stay out and enjoy the day a little longer or go back to the library and work. So there I was, comfortably situated in Reynolds Square when some old guy got off his duff and walked across the square to me. As soon as I determined that he was indeed heading over to me, I began packing up my stuff. So long break. He asked me if I go to school here and if I like Savannah blah blah blah. I don't know that I have ever been so rude to someone before, but I did not care. As soon as all my stuff was in my bag I stood up and left.

To the creeps of Savannah (not that they actually read my blog):

Seeing a female is no excuse to ogle, honk, call after them, elicit some lame pick-up line, whistle, or attempt to initiate a conversation. Girls are everywhere. Get over it. Don't be such a disgusting pig.

Sorry. That was some venting that just needed to be done. Continuing the list...

5. Me

I don't even what to talk about how upset I made myself.

I am going to bed and calling it a day. Because when you have trouble keeping your eyes open at 7 in the evening, it has been a day.

And That is My Judicious Verdict on Coffee

2009-04-29T21:06:00.000-07:00

My compadres go to Starbucks a lot. I will usually go with them, but I never get anything because I don't really want to spend that much money and I've never considered myself a coffee drinker. I'm not the coffee-hater that my sister is, but I just haven't been drawn to it.

Today, though, today was different. I was tired of waiting in line with my friends and never getting anything. So I got a coffee. It was hot outside, so I got an iced hazelnut mocha latte.

Eh.

That was my reaction in a word.

If I don't have any special affinity for iced coffee on a hot day with hazelnut and mocha, then coffee is pretty much gone on me.

I expected that the coffee wouldn't be a complete waste, I had to go to English in about an hour and thought the caffeine would help with that whole 2 1/2 hour situation. Umm no. Not only was there no difference in my level of alertness, but there was a decided difference in the contentment of my stomach. I felt sick. And don't try to convince me that it was because I didn't eat; I ate just fine before I drank my coffee.

Conclusion: Coffee makes me sick. Coffee does not keep me awake. Coffee makes my feet hurt. That last one may or may not be the fault of the coffee as the shoes I had on all day have been known to make war with my feet. But I'm going to blame the coffee anyway because I need three points for a strong case.

But this is all very odd seeing how I descend from long lines of serious coffee drinkers. Serious meaning "if the spoon won't stand up, the coffee's not strong enough."

Hmm...curious.

Arielle

Ahem...Excuse me God? You want me to trust You?

2009-04-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

I was so up and down today. Chipper this morning, depressed early this afternoon, uplifted, then irritated, then goofy, and so on and so forth.

I was freaking out about how I'm going to pay for school because my scholarship stuff is due in a few days and people are talking about money and doing things that require money and it was getting to me. And then I realized, God does not need me to worry. He doesn't want me to worry. Me worrying is not making a positive contribution to His plan in the least. And then I felt peace.

There is a song that they sing at my church back home sometimes, something like "let Your healing power fill me now...take my life and make me whole..and let the peace of God, let it reign." I thought of that today as I felt the peace of God and rested in knowing that He's holding me and providing for me every step of the way.

Last year, before I started SCAD, I would say that God was going to pay for everything because I wanted that to be true, plus if He didn't, there was no way I could go to SCAD. But I'm not sure I had any assurance of what was going to happen and if God would make a way. What if God didn't want me in Savannah and didn't provide the funds, then where would I go? Now, I can confidently say that God provides my every need and He will continue to make it possible for me to go to college.

I have grown so much in my trust relationship with God over the past year because there have been many times where I've had to rely solely on Him for a variety of things, not just monetary issues. I feel more comfortable, more assured now when I must trust God because I can look back on our history and see that He has come through every time. It has not been fun nor has His provision come in the way I expected it to. I also am not saying that I don't struggle anymore because I do, but it's gotten a little easier and I know I'm moving forward. Slowly.

People can say they trust God and that they put their faith in God, but to actually be in a situation where absolute trust and faith in God is necessary and it's all you've got, you realize that it is is a hard place to be.

This is the verse that helped me get out of my slump this afternoon when I was having a pity party conniption fit:

Blessed be God,
Who has not turned away my prayer,
Nor His mercy from me!

Psalm 66:20

I was so excited. I totally felt the exclamation point at the end of the scripture because I was free from worrying. Liberated. The devil was no longer going to steal my joy.

I wrote the verse on my hand so I could repeat it all afternoon. And then it kind of rubbed off because, hello, the South is hot and dampness in unavoidable, but the sentiment stuck with me.

Dear God,

Thank you for every blessing, even the ones I don't realize are blessings. Thank you for loving me too much to let me stay the same. Thank you for disregarding my complaints when I say I don't want to grow anymore because there's too much oppostion. Thank you for Your peace.

Arielle

This Will Be Me. Soon. Maybe?

2009-04-27T21:10:00.000-07:00

Sidewalk Chalk and a Movie

2009-04-26T21:08:00.000-07:00

I was running around Saturday morning finishing up a project and trying to get it printed only to find that the printers are closed on Saturday (lame) and then I found out that my project is not due Monday at 8 a.m. but Wednesday. So no problema.

So it was off to the Sidewalk Arts Festival for me.

People came prepared. I would have just showed up, collected my chalk and started doodling, but that is apparently for amateurs because the really good artists wielded not just chalk, but paintbrushes and rags and water.

They did some crazy stuff.

And of course I stood there. You know, after being prodded and pushed and convinced that it was safe. My initial excuse for not wanting to was that I suffer from vertigo. Get over yourself Arielle; it's a sidewalk.

And there were so many people. I get really weird in crowds and I stop breathing because I WOULD BE BREATHING THEIR AIR. And their germs. And their stuff. Umm...can you germiphobe? I wanted to ask them all to leave, but that would be rude.

Later was Nemo.

Bruce: All right, anyone else? Hello, how 'bout you, mate? What's your problem?
Marlin: Me? I don't... I don't have a problem.
Bruce: Oh. Okay...Denial.

Crush: You, Mini-Man, takin' on the jellies. You've got serious thrill issues, dude. Awesome.

Crush: Alright, we're here, dudes! Get ready! Your exit's comin' up, man!
Marlin: You mean the swirling vortex of terror?
Crush: That's it, dude!

Marlin: It's like he's trying to speak to me I know it!

"There's No Place Like Home..."

2009-04-24T22:00:00.001-07:00

Tonight was Wizard of Oz in Forsyth, and I was ready. I even had my hair fixed like Dorothy just to show how in the spirit I was. *Note to self: Dorothy hair—way cute—wear more often.

So many more people were there tonight, but thanks to my craftiness and weaseling abilities, I was able to secure a good spot for my people. An by my people I mean my friend Kate and her parents who are in town for Parent's Weekend.

And while I waited for my people to meet me, I played around with the settings on my camera and discovered all manner of cool things like aperture and ISO and shutter speed.

This is what happens when your shutter speed is super slow, like 4, but you don't realize it and so you move your camera almost immediately after pushing the button. It is rookie mistake, but then again, I am a rookie, thus, completely justified.

And the movie begins.

Somewhere over the rainbow....

If I only had a brain...

Scarecrow: I haven't got a brain... only straw.

Dorothy: How can you talk if you haven't got a brain?

Scarecrow: I don't know... But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking... don't they?

Dorothy: Yes, I guess you're right.

Lion: Wouldn't you be degraded to be seen in the company of a cowardly lion?...I would.

There's no place like home...there's no place like home...

Arielle

How Much is That Puppy on the Blanket?

2009-04-23T20:19:00.000-07:00

I ran to the park this evening and oh it was beautiful. There were people setting up their blankets and picnic baskets and there were children flying kites and the potent scent of bug spray permeated the air. I love the summer.

I know, it’s not technically summer yet, but I’m pretty sure it got up into the 90’s today, so if it walks like summer, talks like summer, and smells like summer, it is summer. Or is that a duck?

I went to the park to watch the first film in Forsyth—From Russia with Love. Don’t ask me what the movie was about though because there was a puppy less than 10 feet from me. A yellow lab puppy. A roly-poly yellow lab puppy.

Who watches James Bond with such distractions as that?

I watched that puppy. I watched Puppy jumping around. Puppy chewing on a Frisbee. Puppy digging a hole. Puppy rolling on her back. Puppy resting her head on her paws. Puppy sniffing the air. Puppy almost walking over to me. Puppy covering her snout with her paws.

It was almost too much to bear.

Thea told me to steal Puppy and bring her home with me. I told her that I’d try to pay attention to the movie in hopes that I might pick up some super-stealth spy tricks from Agent 007 himself.

No such luck. When Bond wasn’t making out, he was fighting or just standing around observing. None of these tactics were going to get me a puppy.

You know, that is unless I was to make out with Puppy’s owner while a friend nabbed the pooch for me. And then I would know how to fight off the owner so my friend could make a quick getaway. And once I had successfully beaten off the owner, I could use those observational skills to observe my friend carry Puppy to our predetermined rendezvous point.

But all of that is purely hypothetical.

I had to take matters into my own hands. I casually inched toward Puppy and when the owner turned away, I unhooked the leash. It was a risky move, I know, but Puppy and I made it out okay. It was a good thing I had on my running shoes or else the owner may have actually caught me.

Did you believe a word of that?

It was all true up until the part where I mentioned stealing the puppy.

I did not steal the puppy.

I know, I regret it too.

Arielle

Finding Nemo in the Park

2009-04-22T20:10:00.001-07:00

Films in Forsyth this weekend!! Who's excited?

I am so there with a picnic basket and blanket on Saturday night. And maybe on Friday for The Wizard of Oz. And maybe even on Thursday for From Russia with Love.

Dear God,

No rain. Please and thank you.

Love,

Arielle

It's just me rambling and surprise! I end up talking about food. Shocker.

2009-04-21T20:48:00.001-07:00

I was sleepy all day. And I couldn't even take a nap because there wasn't a free interval long enough to actually get some sleep. So from 7 a.m. until about 6ish this evening, I was pretty much walking around half-asleep.

I stubbed my toe this afternoon and ohhh it hurt. I went to the gym soon after(finally!) and did Zumba with my broken toe. Not at all fun.

It's probably not broken, but it was hurting long enough to make me think so.

When the pain finally subsided, I was back in my room and about to start my homework. I was then attacked by a vicious case of OCD. In a fit of anti-clutter mania, I dumped all my shoes in a box, all my papers and books in a drawer, and threw away stacks of stuff. The little corner in which I live was livable again.

I am so over this dorm situation. I have about 50 square feet of floor to call my own and half a closet that is about 18 inches wide. As soon as midterms are done, I'm gonna start packing up. It's not that SCAD is so bad. It's not. I'll miss it when I'm home this summer, but I'm just ready for a change of scenery and a change of diet.

Ma, can I put in my order now?

Macaroni and cheese, mint iced tea, cupcakes, barbecue ribs, grilled veggies, red beans and rice, pizza with pesto, peach buckle, homemade salsa, homemade ice cream, beignets, rotisserie chicken, etc.

Speaking of rotisserie chicken, Marisa and I can devour a rotisserie chicken in almost no time flat, no utensils. plates, or napkins necessary. This isn't really something people call attention to, but we're rather proud of it. Maybe we'll do a video of this event one day. Then I can post it on here because it would make my momma so proud to know that she raised her daughters to be classy and dainty ladies.

Arielle

The Lightning Must Have Hit the Backup Generators

2009-04-20T19:48:00.000-07:00

It's the beginning of midterm week. This is synonymous with lots of work, all-nighters, plenty of junk food, and just a general atmosphere of craziness.

So tonight everyone was buckling down for a long night when a storm suddenly comes in. There was pretty intense lightning and thunder for about 2 minutes. And then the power went out. From what we could see, it was out all over downtown.

If people were working down in the labs and didn't save their stuff, they lost their work. If you needed to actually do work that required light, too bad. Needless to say, people were not happy. Personally, I didn't have too much work to do this evening, so I was pretty content to just be with my friends out in the dark. I did need the power back on soon because, as exciting as the outage was, I had just been running and needed to shower (can't do that in pitch black) and also needed to do laundry. Bad. As in I may or may not have had only 1 pair of clean undergarments left.

Someone told me in fall quarter that they just went out to buy more underwear instead of doing laundry. I thought that was just lazy, but I will never judge so foolishly again. That idea sounds less and less ridiculous everyday.

Anywho, the power came back on within an hour and I was able to shower and am currently doing laundry. It is far too hot in this laundry room. I fear I may pass out.

Only 19 minutes left to dry. I think I'll survive. If there is no post tomorrow, you'll know that the heat was far too much for me. I would appreciate it if you would send help. I'll be lying on the floor of laundry room #2. Just a quick dousing of cool water should do the trick.

Arielle

I Know That It's Been a Long Time

2009-04-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

Let’s pretend that I was on top of posting this week and did not go AWOL.

I started to post on Easter, but didn’t finish and then I just got so slammed with work and it was this big snowball effect. A big spiraling vortex of not-posting.

Anywho, my Easter post:

I was going to invite a friend to church with me on Easter, but before I could ask, I heard her talking and she pretty much said that Easter wasn't important and that she didn't really care about it. Kind of a slap in the face for me seeing as how Easter is highly important and the core of what I believe.

God so loved us that He sent His son to die because that was the only way for us to be forgiven. When Jesus died, the curtain of the temple ripped. Before it was torn, only the high priest could go through the curtain into the presence of God, but after, anyone could have a direct, personal relationship with God and eternal life because we were washed clean by the blood of Christ. I would say that is pretty important.

As for the rest of the week, it was pretty much this insane jumble of work and class and procrastination and eating and a little bit of sleep. A very little bit. Tiny.

I’ll start off by saying that I discovered free episodes of Friday Night Lights online last Saturday. This was just bad timing because when I find something that I really like, I tend to obsess just a tad. So with all the work I had in front of me for the week—a paper to write, a project to turn in for Color Theory, and orthographic, perspective, and functional drawings of a stapler for Intro to Industrial Design—there was really no time for watching every episode of seasons 1, 2, and 3. That particular realization had like, no effect on me. But I was super proud of myself when I did manage to get sufficient work done before sitting down to watch 2 or 3 or 7 episodes.

And then there was this concert Wednesday night. I pretty much busted my butt trying to get enough work done so I’d have time to go, and I watched NO Friday Night Lights on that day. That’s how dedicated I am to my all-party-all-the-time lifestyle.

Anyway, the whole concert experience was great. I had two major epiphanies, which we all know make for very positive concert experiences. The drive out to Georgia Southern was about 45 minutes and lovely. I forgot what it’s like being out of downtown and driving past wide-open spaces with just grass and trees and some cows. It was gorgeous and quiet and peaceful in the late afternoon sun.

Epiphany # 1: That’s what I miss by being in Savannah. I miss how quiet it can be back home. Here, there’s always some background noise—sirens, obnoxious talking outside my window, traffic, etc. And at home, when I want to sleep, it’s actually dark in my room. There’s always light streaming into my dorm through the blinds and onto my wall. I cannot wait to go home and go to sleep in the dark and the quiet. It will be lovely.

Epiphany #2: Other colleges have normal people.

I know, I know, that goes without saying, but I had apparently forgotten that. When we got to the Georgia Southern campus, we discovered it was a normal college campus and very nice if I may say so. Everything was in one general location with uniform brick buildings and landscaping and et cetera. The students wore normal clothing and NONE OF THE GUYS WERE WEARING SKINNY JEANS. That greatly contributed to their attractiveness in my opinion. Kaleigh, Lauren, Thea, and I walked in and we felt like people were looking at us. They probably were; we were dressed like SCAD students after all. SCAD students dress edgier and hippier than normal people our age. Everyone looks like they have just stepped out of an Urban Outfitters ad or, for girls, Forever 21. It was actually very refreshing to be around normal college students. Thought: Maybe I should think about going to a university? Haha, oh I kid.

My first real concert was good. It wasn’t what we expected; it was an entire outdoors event that had a couple of artists and a speaker. The speaker was really great; he runs a big Christian camp somewhere and he had a lot of cool stuff to say. But we finally got to Dave Barnes, and he was so cute up there on stage. It was only the second or third time I’d heard his music, but I still really enjoyed myself. It was super late by the time we got out of there and we stopped at Sonic. I hadn’t been to Sonic in so long. It was loaded with calories and delicious.

All of this eventfulness occurred during about a 60 hour period where I got 5 hours of sleep. That’s right people, 2 ½ hours of sleep each night for two nights. 4:30-7 a.m. on Tuesday night and 5-7:30 a.m. on Wednesday night. I crashed on Thursday afternoon when I was finally done with my classes, my meetings, and my workshops. And through it all, I didn’t drink any coffee, only had about ½ cup of cherry coke, and was surprisingly coherent. On Thursday morning (hour 50 or something), during my presentation in Intro to ID, the only noticeable difference in me was that my voice was kinda rough.

I did turn out some great work. None of my assignments suffered because of my lack of sleep, so I don’t regret anything. I feel that I was embracing the college experience.

Sorry this one is so long, but a lot happens in one week.

All-Party-All-the-Time Arielle

p.s. the answer to “name that movie” is Sleepless in Seattle

Gasp! It's a Sign...But You Don't Believe in Signs

2009-04-11T08:01:00.000-07:00

Name that movie.

I tend to think everything means something in the grand scheme of things. Everything happens for a reason. It is this philosophy that helps me through the more difficult situations in life. I always think What can I learn from this? God has me going through this for a reason and I'd like to get it the first time so I don't have to go through it again. And God does have a reason. Every time.

But then sometimes, this philosophy leaks into other areas of my life that just don't need it. When I start to question the eternal significance of why I chose to update my iTunes last night as opposed to this morning, I have clearly gone too far. And then I shut down my mind and don't think about anything for the rest of the day. Because not everything is a sign, and I am frankly just tired of over-analyzing. If I brought this up to my doctor, I could probably get some meds for it, but the overly-medicated state of the U.S. is really just a whole other ludicrous issue for another time.

But if anyone is looking to score some Xanax or Prozac, I'm your girl.

JUST KIDDING. Do NOT contact me looking for some prescription medication.

And moving on to a topic of far greater importance—food.

By a show of hands, how many of y'all like Cinnamon Toast Crunch? Also by a show of hands, how many of y'all like Honey Bunches of Oats?

I appreciate everyone who actually raised their hands.

I like both, but I always buy Special K because I like how it says "Drop up to 6 lbs. in 2 weeks!" on the box. Now, Special K has new cereal. I had it for breakfast. It's called Special K Cinnamon Pecan. And it tastes just like Cinnamon Honey Toast Bunches of Crunch.

And that was just the cherry on top of the sundae that was my morning.

I got up, ran to the park, ran around the park, ran in the park, and then ran down Jones Street. Forsyth and Jones are GORGEOUS on spring mornings. It was sunny and warm and breezy. I believe I have previously mentioned that Savannah is perfect in the spring. I would like to reiterate that now.

Ahem, new song of the week, people. Perfect for tomorrow.

Have a lovely day and Happy Easter,

Arielle

My Lovely Friends

2009-04-10T21:09:00.000-07:00

I don't even know what to say about this. Except that maybe we were all a little delirious at 2 am, which really must be the only reason for Kaleigh to have Ramen hanging out of her mouth.

Oh I kid, Kaleigh doesn't need a reason. And Thea's look clearly says, "Are you seeing this?"

Yes Thea, I did see. And I documented it for all the world to see.

I love this picture.

Arielle

I'm a Big Fan of the Care Package

2009-04-09T19:05:00.000-07:00

I officially retract all previous statements that may have insinuated that my parents do not love/care about me.

Do they know me or what? That granola is absolutely delicious; it's got pecans, cranberries, macadamia nuts... mmm, my mouth is watering. And do you see the "Family Size" on the pita chips? That's a joke. I could polish off this bag in a few hours.

My dad also sent me this super great book by Josh McDowell that addresses many of the tough questions that Christians deal with. It was going to be in the picture, but the food was overwhelming enough. But if you're just dying to see the book, here it is.

I must go because I have so much to do. I must paint my nails and get some ice cream to go with my granola and watch a movie with my friends. It's a crazy life here in college, but someone needs to slack off and it might as well be me.

Arielle

No One Ever Told Me

2009-04-08T19:33:00.000-07:00

Please excuse the lack of post yesterday. I was working on projects from dawn until 3 a.m. this morning. I almost drank a cup of coffee at about 9:30 last night, but Kaleigh told me it would keep me up until 2 a.m. and I obviously did not want to be awake until 2, so I opted out. Silly me. I had no idea it would take me 3 hours to glue squares of paint onto pieces of paper.

This happens to me a lot. I know exactly what I have to do for a project and how to do it, but for some reason it takes so much longer than I think it should. Even when I finish, I still cannot explain which part of the process was so time-consuming. It's one of the great mysteries of art school.

I don’t know why no one ever told me this, but college is hard. A great big 'thanks' to everyone who has ever gone to college and spoken to me for withholding that vital bit of information.

There’s all this stuff you have to do for classes, and then you have to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life, and you realize that your whole future practically hinges on all these critical, but relatively unassuming decisions that you made say, 2 weeks ago.

And then you must involve yourself in all these organizations and have friends because you should be well rounded. And on top of these things there are scholarships to apply for and taxes to do and tours to give for Student Ambassadors and volunteering to do and laundry to wash and—and—and—

It’s a lot, people.

At any given moment this quarter, I will probably have a paper to write, a presentation to plan, and two massive, all-consuming art projects to complete. And not just to complete—complete well. That’s the kicker. College isn’t so hard if you don’t care. It isn’t so hard if you have yet to realize that your future depends upon what you do now—like deciding on a major.

It’s totally hindering my whole life objective of “just have fun.”

Do not mistake this for complaining; I am not complaining. The original intent of this post was to offer a warning to people approaching college.

Run for the hills.

There’s the warning. I’m not even joking.

Yes I am. Go to college Marisa. You can’t use this as an excuse to get out. Just some advice from your big sister.

Which is not to say I am big. Marisa don’t you dare call me big! I’m little.
Relatively speaking.

Anywho, here’s some real advice for you. It’s easy to let everything make you feel overwhelmed, but don’t let it.

I can’t tell you how to do that because I haven’t completely figured that out. I just pray a lot. A LOT. For focus, for motivation, for inspiration, for everything.

"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."
Philippians 4:13

"Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men."
Colossians 3:23

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.”
Jeremiah 29:11-12

“With God's power working in us, God can do much, much more than anything we can ask or imagine.”
Ephesians 3:20 NCV

Arielle

Hey Y'all

2009-04-06T15:43:00.000-07:00

The official title of this post is “Hey y’all, remember me? My name is Arielle and I like birthday parties and crawfish boils” but that was just too long.

In the interest of full disclosure, I would just like to state my feelings.

I am more than a little bit offended that my family is choosing to have so many get-togethers IN MY ABSENCE. I missed a certain little boy’s 1st birthday back in January. That was offense #1.

Offense #2—The planner of a certain little girl’s 1st birthday party inconveniently scheduled her party on A DAY I WAS NOT HOME. And at the Children’s Museum no less.

Offense #3—I will miss another little girl’s birthday party this weekend. And I do not know how old this little girl will be BECAUSE SHE WILL NOT TALK TO ME. I think possibly I have been gone for so long that she has forgotten who I am. It is not a good feeling, to feel forgotten.

Offenses #4&5—MY PARENTS! You would think that they at least they would show me some consideration. But no, they are the worst offenders (note they have perpetrated offenses #4 and #5). 1st—they get all jetsetty and fly off to Miami for the weekend. Oh they invite me alright, but knowing full well that I will be swamped with work. 2nd—they decide to have a crawfish boil, and guess what. I will not be home. Go figure.

That is all I have to say about that.

As you were.

Love,

Arielle, that girl who went off to college and then her family forgot

I know I am being a drama queen. I get that from my daddy.

Accepted Student Day

2009-04-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

I kept waking up last night because I couldn't get my mind to ignore the fact that I had to give tours all day but essentially had no idea what to do. I kept trying to calm down, but I clearly am not very soothing to myself.

I got up this morning at a ridiculous hour for a Saturday. The chilly air on the bike ride to the Welcome Center was ominous. Ohh the day was not off to a good start. The only consolation was that my ambassador outfit was comfy, black, and slimming. And my hair was nice. Which can really make a significant difference in your mood, composure, et cetera, and so on and so forth.

So everyone was crazy and running around getting stuff together for the 1700 people expected to come. And then we were off. It wasn't that bad at first because I wasn't alone in my confusion. No one else really knew schedule specifics either. I found this out in the hour and a half of mingling time with other ambassadors while the people were in the welcome session.

And then AAh! I had to give the first tour by myself. With a huge group of people. Half of whom couldn't hear me because they were so far back on the bus. And then I had to go from res hall to res hall talking about all the stuff. Most of the people couldn't fit in the tiny dorm rooms, so they didn't hear what I was saying and then I couldn't get into one of the residence halls because my i.d. wouldn't open either of the doors. Ummmm...what does one do when you have 30-something people hanging on your every word, desperately waiting for direction and you get stuck?

You obviously freak out, sit down on the stairs and start bawling and rocking back and forth. The people will look on in confusion and feel very awkward. They will exchange wide-eyed glances and shuffle their feet.

Not that I know that from experience because that's not what I did. Someone came along and opened the door for me. And that's the end of that exciting tale.

When that tour was over, I had lunch. It was really too early for lunch, but that's what they called it. It was good. Mainly because there was meat that was not breaded or deep-fried. I'm a southern girl and I enjoy fried food as much as the next gal, but I can't do that everyday. And that's pretty much what's to eat 5 0r 6 days out of the week. And this is why I have stir-fry with veggies, tofu, and beans, to make sure I still get my protein.

Anywho, after lunch, I started giving a different tour, and it was actually fun. It was great when people asked questions, although it was mostly the parents, not the students. I kept waiting for people to ask me the tough questions because I was sooo prepared, but I suppose they were too chicken. I told them about my daddy and how I think he tried to play "stump the ambassador," asking questions about the crime rate and such. But no such luck. It inspired no one to play "stump the ambassador."

Overall, the day was a success, a complete 180 from this morning when I was regretting my decision to be a student ambassador. See how happy I am?

AAh!

2009-04-03T19:05:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I give my first tour as a student ambassador and the coordinators put me on a shuttle BY MYSELF. All the other new ambassadors were paired with one or two other experienced ambassadors who have given SCAD tours before. I have no idea what I'm doing. I only half know what I'm supposed to say.

Dear God,

Please send help.

Muchas gracias,

Arielle

Daddy Sure Can Drive Good

2009-04-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

One of the things I really miss about being home is driving. I guess I like the level of control that it offers. I pick the music, I pick the lane, I pick the speed, I pick the temperature. Does that make me a control freak? No? I didn't think so. It's not that I dislike riding with my friends, they don't turn the heat way up on me or roll down my window in the rain or anything like that, but I just wish I were the one driving sometimes.

I was in the car with my friends the other day, maneuvering the squares, and that reminded me of traffic circles. My daddy tried to explain traffic circles to me once. We were coming down off the Huey P. and smack into one. I had never had to drive in one before and the thought of them was a little intimidating (because they explain everything so well in Drivers Ed).

As my dad drove, he explained who had the right of way and which lanes you needed to be in to get in and to get out. Oh is that all? I thought. Traffic circles were going to be a breeze.

Some time later, I was driving with my mom and approaching a traffic circle. Feeling quite confident in my knowledge of those tricky traffic circles, I spouted off what I knew to my mom.

"What?! Arielle, that is not how you navigate a traffic circle. Who told you that?"

Thank you Daddy. I survived that traffic circle in spite of that faulty knowledge.

And because I like to reference Calvin and Hobbes sometimes...

(click on the photos to see them larger)

Arielle

5 Things I Wish I Had, Like Right Now

2009-04-01T20:07:00.000-07:00

1. Adele's voice

I would really be grateful if I could sing at all. But, you know, if I had to choose a voice, hers would be a cool one to have.

2. Stacy's Cinnamon Sugar Pita Chips

These ship very well. Perfect for care packages. You can get my address from my momma. Thank you.

3. Salma Hayek's dress

But without all the trashy cleavage-bearing that would just label me as a trollop. Or a tart. Or a strumpet. Or a floozy. Take your pick.

4. Kiss Me Kate

This is a lovely musical based on Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew. It's got Howard Keel and Kathryn Grayson (man does she have some pipes), Ann Miller, and that cutie from 7 Brides for 7 Brothers (another favorite musical of mine). He was brother #6, Frank I believe was his name. Anywho, I remember watching old musicals like these with my momma on PBS and, when we had cable, TCM. That's one of the three things that bothers me about not having a TV in my dorm; I don't get to watch good old movies. Ha, like I would even have the time to watch TV if I did have one. But I digress.

5. a good pair of trouser jeans

I'm quite sure they would do wonders for me. Paired with a cropped red jacket, classic white tee, chunky turquoise necklace, and some nice 4-inch heels, yes, I'm positive this is a look for me.

Please pretend the jacket is red. Although yellow would also work.

Arielle

Where Did All my Peanut Butter Go?

2009-03-31T20:15:00.000-07:00

As I observed the practically empty state of my jar of peanut butter, I began to reminisce back to the time when I first got the jar and how nice and full it was. Which made me reminisce back to the days of living at home and eating peanut butter. And that’s when this serious thought set in-

I don’t believe we went through an entire 40 oz. jar of peanut butter in my household of 6 people in a span of 2½ months.

Needless to say, there will be some self-imposed peanut butter cutbacks.

No worries though. Nutella is more than happy to take Peanut Butter’s place. Nutella didn’t last more than 5 or 6 days at my house, so there will be no guilt, but rather a sense of accomplishment when I polish off Nutella in a few weeks.

Because I believe it is imperative to set healthy diet goals like these.

Arielle

IDEO for Me! Maybe.

2009-03-30T17:51:00.000-07:00

As if it's not bad enough to wake up at 7 am on a Monday, it was cold this morning. What up Savannah? Get with it, it's spring. So after making the long 15-minute trek to my class through the bitter cold wind, sleet, and snow, the guard refused to let me in the building. I didn't have a lame "Spring" sticker on my i.d., therefore, I could not be admitted. Please bear in mind that my class would start in 6 minutes.

I had to turn around and make the trip back to my residence hall. There, I had to wait until the office opened at 8:30 to get the little sticker which would magically grant me entrance to class, to which I would inevitably be 45 minutes late.

I won't talk about how irritated I was. But I was. Oh I was.

The day redeemed itself because I went to a presentation tonight given by Bill Moggridge. I know—you don't know who that is. Don't get your panties all in a bunch, I'm about to explain.

Bill Moggridge is one of the founders of IDEO, the company that introduced me to industrial design and inspired me, the industrial design firm of pretty much the world. It's something like the No. 1 innovative business in the U.S. and it has offices all over the world. It's big. It's my dream company. He also was one of the designers to work on the first ever laptop. Ever. He also contributed to a bunch of other unprecedented projects that would just blow your mind.

I attended the presentation and it reminded me of what I liked about industrial design, which was good because lately I've just been not so sure how I feel about it. When it was over, my friend told me she was going to go talk to Bill and just ask him some questions. Ah! (that was a screech on my part) Wait, talk to him?!

I agreed to tag along and I ended in a short conversation with him where he basically told me that if I'm looking for internships with IDEO, the window is tiny. They give preference to students where IDEO has programs set up, like Boston, Palo Alto, and San Francisco because that's where some of their offices are.

Ahem...my God can make a way there is no way, and He has an incredible plan for my life whether I end up in industrial design or not, so Bill, you can just wait and see. And that's all I have to say about that.

I'm not sure how I feel about the whole South Park bit.

2009-03-27T19:35:00.000-07:00

So my RA, Sarah, posted our new door signs…tags…occupant identification plaques. Whatever they are called. Point is, she based them all on South Park style animation. And this is my sign.

And this is me.

What’s up with my hair? And what on earth am I wearing? I appreciate the fact that Sarah has taken the time to get to know all of her 100 or so residents well enough to be able to create South Park caricatures of them, but I feel that I may be misrepresented in this image.

I’d like to think it is because I am just so classy that me and South Park just cannot blend (for obvious reasons).

But I don’t think classy is what came to mind when Sarah saw me eating fried chicken. It doesn’t matter how refined you imagine yourself to be, eating fried chicken is no dainty business. I’m not a pig, for crying out loud, I’m just not very neat. It’s very non-Southern Belle, but I believe it is a Creole thing, so I guess that balances out.

It Was Friendship at First Sight.

2009-03-26T19:58:00.000-07:00

Oh today. Today today today. Today was windy. Today was gray.

But—!

There was at least one redeeming quality—I got to spend most of the day with my friends, albeit doing homework. I painted. Kaleigh glued. Lauren got on Facebook—I know, that’s not homework, and we’re baffled as to how she gets any work done. Thea went to class. Later on, we went running.

Not in a gym. I always run in the gym because at home, I don’t have one, so I fully appreciate it when I’m here. I also like that little thing known as CLIMATE CONTROL. I believe that is imperative in the South because do you know what HUMIDITY is?

So yes, I ran outside. I believe all the breeziness of the day served a purpose after all in keeping me relatively cool.

It also helped that my friends were there. Everything is so much more bearable, if not actually enjoyable, if your friends are there with you. Plus, they kept the pace, something that I am pretty much unable to do without the aid of a treadmill.

Now I am off to procrastinate by reading and doing all manner of other things besides my Composition and I.D. homework.

On a side note—I received my first Savannah mosquito bite today. I’m going to pretend like it didn’t happen and that mosquitoes only exist back home. I refuse to have spring in Savannah ruined by the mosquitoes. Not gonna happen.

Arielle

Dreamstate.

2009-03-25T15:52:00.000-07:00

The dreamstate is an excellent sandwich from Reginelli's, but that's not what this post is about!

I overslept this morning, but it was so worth it because I had the best dream. It wasn't obviously so, but as I stumbled out of bed, scrambling to get dressed, it slowly dawned on me how truly great it was.

Best Dream Ever Synopsis
1. My brother gave me a genuine compliment. He was being a nice person.

2. I found my earring.

On Sunday, I lost my earring, and it caused me much grief because, well, I liked that earring. A lot. I especially liked it when it was with its partner, earring #2. Now, #2 is experiencing separation anxiety, as am I.

3. Someone told me that I was losing weight and that my legs were looking good.

I have been frustrated this year that, as much as have exercised, made healthy choices, etc., I have yet to lose weight. I also have excema on my legs that I'm praying will be gone by summer so that I can exit the house in something other than long pants. So this particular compliment was twice as wonderful.

4. So there was this guy. And he was dreamy, excuse the pun. And because it was my dream, I knew what he was thinking and that he was totally into me. And then dream-guy touched my shoulder. And I died. It was bliss.

Then I woke up, and could no longer picture his face. I know, it upset me too! I wish I could remember what he looked like. I believe I remember him having light brown hair and being about 6 or 7 inches taller than me, but other than that, nothing.

I'm choosing to see this whole thing as foreshadowing. Because that would be just awesome.

Arielle

“No Pain, No Gain” What Does That Even Mean?

2009-03-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

I was in J.O.’s getting dinner yesterday when I ran into a friend.

Kate: Come do Bootcamp with me.

(Bootcamp is a class at the gym)

Creole Belle: Ummm, no. I just worked out. Plus, I am about to eat. Plus, did you totally miss the title of the class which is BOOTCAMP?! No thank you.

K: C’mon. It’ll be fun. It’s in an hour so you’ll have time to digest, and it makes you eat a smaller portion because you know you’re about to work out.

CB: But it’s called Bootcamp.

K: C’mon.

CB: It’s BOOTCAMP. I do not do crazy intense military-style killer exercise. I will die.

I could just picture it. Some crazed instructor yelling in my face and blowing a whistle while people all around me are panting and dropping like flies. Also, I would be crying. And burning from all the pain. And wanting my mommy.

But somehow, Kate convinced me to do it. If she could do it, I could do it. Then she informed me that it would be her first time. Thus, when she told me it would be fun, that was not a guarantee.

CB: I’m gonna die.

I figured that if I ate a light meal I would be less likely heave. Something light, I decided, like the tofu-veggie stir-fry.

Please don’t ask me why, after this sensible conclusion, I proceeded to get a small portion of beef brisket with a side of roasted potatoes and corn. Nothing says light like meat and potatoes.

I had obviously lost my mind twice in the span of a couple of minutes. Not only did I willingly submit myself to an hour of torture, but I ensured that the experience would be even more agonizing by consuming a small but hearty meal.

CB: I’m gonna die.

This was my mantra throughout the dinner.

Duh-da-da-duh…

Two hours later, I was not dead. The class was actually not that bad. Don’t get me wrong, it was challenging, but I found that I could keep up. Except for the push-ups. Those were just sad.

I expected to be sore this morning, but the only thing I experienced this morning was the overwhelming urge to crawl back into my bed and sleep for another 5 hours.

But up I got. And away I went to Intro to I.D. where, despite the lack of total consciousness, I was able to discern that I pretty much got the best Intro to I.D. professor of the bunch.

Midmorning, I could feel a little tightness in my shoulders and some in my legs. Not so bad, I thought. Ohh but this was only beginning. As the day progressed, my upbeat stride slowly transformed into a waddle. I was sore. I am sore, even as I sit and type this post.

I must go now and dope myself up on some motrin.

And chocolate.

Only those two can alleviate the pain.

Arielle

And This is Why I Go to Art School

2009-03-23T18:34:00.000-07:00

I would like to begin by saying that I am an art-supply-buying beast. I went to Primary and Ex Libris and compared prices for every item on my Color Theory supply list. 30 minutes after class ended, I had all of my supplies for Color Theory and, here’s the real exciting part, I DID NOT WAIT IN LINE FOR 4½ HOURS. For once, Ex Libris had a cheaper grand total, and I was the only person in line. It was pretty sweet.

I know, some of you are all what’s the big deal with buying art supplies? Truth is my friends, you can’t truly understand the start-of-quarter madness at an art school unless you experience it for yourself. And by experience I mean getting 3 long lists of supplies and textbooks for each class (that you know is going to run you a very pretty penny), braving the hordes that mob the art stores, weaving back and forth through the throng to make sure that you have everything, and finally heading to the third floor so that you can stand in the line that winds its way down to the first floor register.

The entire process can take hours or even days. It is suggested that you bring snackage and some good reading to sustain you.

Unless you are an art-supply-getting’ beast like me. Then you’re in and out in less than half an hour.

My Color Theory professor is pretty much the cutest woman ever. She’s a little British woman who lives on an island in the Mediterranean, except for when she lives in Paris during the summer. She flies back to the States to teach every quarter.

Who does that?

And how?

And can I come? I am quiet and don’t each much. That’s actually not true, I eat a lot.

Anyway, she laid it all out on the line this morning, saying that we’re going to have a lot of intense assignments during the first three weeks because she believes that we need to start off strong and learn by doing and learn as much as we possibly can because we sure are paying for it. Amen sister. I like her already.

Later on, Composition was interesting. It was pretty much a reunion of my Survey of Western Art II class from last quarter. Somehow a bunch of us ended up in the same English class.

Professor Stivers seems like a pretty cool guy. He has a very dry sense of humor and even made the class laugh a few times despite the fact that most everyone did not want to be there because it was BEAUTIFUL outside. And also because it was English class. I had a full view of the windows in both of my classes today, and with Savannah being the essence of PERFECTION in the spring, it is hard to be mentally present in class. I rode my bike through the parks to my classes and it was divine. The absolute epitome of loveliness.

Anyway, the Stivers walks in at the beginning of class and looks quizzically at the odd arrangement of the desks—the desks form a perimeter around the room with a large, empty space in the center. He tells us to move the desks into five rows because the existing set-up is just lame. So we proceed to move the desks into rows.

But 4 rows instead of 5.

Because we apparently cannot count.

I like to call this little phenomenon “that’s why we’re in art school.”

This lack of basic math skills also occurs when I’m doing reps at the gym. I get to 30-something and mysteriously drift into the teens or twenties. The only reason I didn’t get mixed up in Bootcamp was because everyone counted out loud and the din covered my miscounts.

I don’t know if miscount is a word.

But more on Bootcamp tomorrow because there is a story there. A small story, but a story nonetheless.

Much love,

Arielle

Looking Forward to the New Quarter, and An English Retrospective

2009-03-22T12:00:00.000-07:00

It's the last day of the spring break. No more lazy days in the park, no more sleeping past 7 a.m., no more eating out everyday.

I was looking through my nail polish bag, because apparently painting my nails is how I mourn the loss of uninterrupted freedom, when I found a shoe. When did I become one of those women who keep their keys in the fridge and their important papers in the oven?

Not only did I discover a shoe, I discovered that all of my nail polish looks like this.

So there need to be two major changes. First of all, I need to expand my repertoire of nail polishes and purchase shades other than I'm Not Really A Waitress. Secondly, I need to start putting my shoes away properly—like back in the microwave where they belong.

And these are my primary goals for third quarter.

Did you believe a word of that last sentence? You are so gullible. "Buy more nail polish" and "put your shoes away" are standing in for my primary goals, which, as of yet, are nonexistent. I guess my goals, other than my class objectives stated on the syllabi, are the same ones as before. Learn as much as I can from each class, treat every project like a portfolio piece, and continue to be in God's will for my life.

Wait! There is a new one, I forgot. Spend more money. Now I know that this doesn't typify the average college student's response to the new goals question, and it certainly is NOT what a parent wants to hear, but I feel that I am missing out on valuable college memories and friendships by not going out to dinner at a real restaurant or catching a movie. And seeing as I now spend $0.00 on such activities, this goal will not be all that difficult to attain. And it totally aligns with my chief life objective which is to have fun.

In all seriousness, I am looking forward to the new quarter. I'll be taking Color Theory, Composition, and Intro to Industrial Design. And for those of you who can't believe I am actually going to take a course entitled "Color Theory" and think that class is a joke, you would be wrong. Very, very wrong. Color Theory, I have heard, is the foundations class that takes over your life, but my 3D Design class last quarter was fairly intense, so as long as I don't have to put in 8 hour days for a solid week at the sculpture building for Color Theory, I will be okay.

I also was not looking forward to taking Composition, as my views on English and writing fluctuate ever other year, depending on the last English class I had.

Ms. Cornog (or Corndog) chose favorites in her 6th grade class of which I was not one and I don't remember learning a thing that year.

After Ms. LaFleur's Language Arts class in 7th grade, I was a literary genius. Ms. LaFleur was a genius. Odd, but a genius nonetheless and I am forever grateful for that class.

After Mrs. Anita Roberts-Long's 8th grade Language Arts class, I never wanted to look at another poem, read another classic, or write anything for as long as I lived. If ever two people were so set against it each other, it was me and Anita. She discouraged me from reading certain books because she thought they were above my level, made some rather degrading remarks aimed in my general direction, and, overall, didn't have a clue how to teach 13-year-olds.

And then there was Amy Brown, one of the best teachers I have ever had. My first class in high school where English class was actually called English and not Language Arts or some other vague, nonsensical moniker. I got a C on the first essay I wrote in that class. I had never gotten a C in my life, but I learned sooo much from that and from Ms. Brown freshmen year. I have no idea what she was doing teaching at Hahnville High School when she could have been teaching in some fancy, exclusive private school, but I'm glad she was there. I loved English after that.

The next few years of high school English were muddled for me, although I do remember taking issue with my English teacher junior year and we actually had "words" at one point, but attitudes changed when I had her again my senior year. Although I don't quite remember what I learned in English in 11th and 12th grade, probably because most of the time in that class was WASTED on senior project which I cannot even begin to talk about because I can feel my blood pressure rising and I am liable to shoot someone.

Moving on to less volatile topics, I have heard that my Composition professor is very good and assigns interesting projects, so things look promising at this point.

I don't know what to expect from Intro to I.D., but I know that my professor is pretty good. I do my research when it comes to registering for classes because if I'm going to pay upwards of $2000 for each class, I'm not going to get a professor who will waste my time. Thankfully, I was able to register for all of my first choice classes this quarter (woohoo!) as opposed to last quarter, when I had to settle for my second- and third-string classes. And thankfully, I have scholarships to pay for these classes.

I'll post tomorrow about how Color Theory and Composition went.

Have a lovely Sunday afternoon,

Arielle

Tax Time

2009-03-20T21:07:00.000-07:00

Me (to my Congressman): The government is wack. Shut the whole thing down.

This is in case anyone was wondering what I sound like when I do my taxes.

Me and Bobby Deen. Sounds Like a Country Song Doesn't It?

2009-03-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

I saw Bobby again today. Clearly I did not request a picture because friends don't do that every time they see each other. I mean, that would just be odd, ask anyone.

But what do you do when you see a celebrity(practically) for the second time? Wave and smile? Any eye contact at all? Did he even see me? Or remember? It's only been a week.

Most people do not encounter this situation-they get lucky and only have to see famous people once. I, however, am put in the position of seeing Bobby Deen twice and have no clue what the protocol is. I know this predicament is up there with What do I do when I meet the Queen?

I obviously needed some assistance, but Emily Post does not make it a habit to be in the gym when I need her. Unreliable wench. I had to fend for myself, so I played it cool AND PRETENDED LIKE I JUST DID NOT SEE HIM. Because there isn't a hint of social awkwardness about me.

Don't judge me.

We only came within 10 feet of each other twice and both times I was either focused on holding my one weight or changing the song on my iPod. So there's my excuse. That and no one else has ever been in such a predicament before so there was absolutely no experience I could fall back on.

Plus, I just didn't really care all that much. It was sort of a "been there, took a picture of that already" moment for me.

And in case any of you were on the edges of your seats with anticipation, I finally got to eat my goat cheese today. I say finally like I've been waiting for days, when I really only bought the stuff yesterday afternoon. It was delicious. Me and the goat cheese, apple slices, honey, pita chips, and hummus had a lovely outing in Orleans Square. Peach beverage and baklava were also there and did not disappoint.

Arielle

A Whole Lotta Nothin, Actually I Kid, It's Only a Little Nothin

2009-03-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

I woke up at 12:18. This afternoon. Who am I? I know I went sleep at 2:30 because the birds of Savannah chirp ALL NIGHT LONG, but since when do I need 10 hours of sleep? Who sleeps for 10 hours or more, you know, besides my sister, my best friends, my momma...and the list could continue but that would be BORING. So I'll stop.

Unfortunately, I can't keep the boring at bay, sooo.....I didn't go to the gym because my hair looked too good to get it sweaty and frizzy. And I went to the park again. And I bought goat cheese from the health food store. And pita chips. And some sort of peach beverage. I was all set to have myself a little gourmet picnic in the park when a friend called and wanted to get dinner. Sushi. I am physically, mentally, emotionally, and scientifically unable to pass up sushi.

Goat cheese, you will have to wait for another day.

Arielle

Ice Cream

2009-03-18T21:22:00.001-07:00

I know, you were blown away by my clever title.

On to vastly more important topics...

There was this book at the library today entitled A Passion for Ice Cream. And I related. Oh I soo related.

As a side note: I think it would be wise for me to invest in an ice cream scoop as Ben and Jerry disappear awful fast when my only utensil is a spoon and I am forced to eat straight from the carton.

The (Much Anticipated) St. Patrick's Day Post

2009-03-17T17:18:00.000-07:00

This was pretty much the scene this morning.
Lots of green mingling.

And then there was this little puppy. My heart melted. It wouldn't look at me directly. Which was probably a good idea seeing as if it had, it may not have seen its owner again.

More of the St. Patrick's Day Parade Crowd. Folding chairs. Police barricades.

And then there was another one! Notice the death grip the owner had on him. That was the only reason I didn't snap him up.

Oh! He's looking for me! I'm here boo! Over here!

And this little dachshund was totally hamming it up for the camera. He caught on to the fact that I kept snapping shots and decided to pose.

And this baby was beautiful. I have a thing for bigger dogs, so we bonded right away. Again-notice the death grip. Dramatic sigh.

And would you check out this little girl? One arm leisurely slung over the side of the wagon, very casual, very chill. Hmm-it reminds me of my own time spent in a wagon as a little girl. Marisa and I (and sometimes the boys) would pile into the wagon some evenings and my daddy would run us up and down the sidewalk. We would inevitably tip over and if you were to drive by at that exact moment, you would see the very unsettling picture of a father quickly fleeing his darling daughters strewn across the sidewalk. Sure there may have been some bruises and scrapes and minor head trauma, but that didn't stop us from jumping up and right back into that wagon for another ride. Oh and Mom, if you didn't know that was going on, now you do.

And the parade began.

There were bands.

There were kilts and bagpipes. In abundance.

And there were Irish people. I suppose important Irish people. The Irish elite of Savannah maybe.

Ahhh...more wagons. Those were GOOD times. Kids should spend more time tipping over in wagons. It's great fun.

Would you look at that! Another dog. And an Irish setter too. How fitting.

Now I know that you may have been expecting more pictures of the actual goings-on with the parade and such, but truth be told, I have been spoiled by Mardi Gras, and the parade did not hold my attention for much more than 3 minutes because there was such an overwhelming lack of flashy, gaudy trinkets being thrown at my head. So I found other things much more interesting. Like dogs for example because I'm sure you didn't notice that I took more pictures of them than anything else. But seriously, no offense to parade participators, but the bands really couldn't hold a candle to high school bands from New Orleans. Neither could the floats.

Please forgive me for being such a New Orleans snob.

Thank you,

Arielle

P.S. I was going to go down to River Street to be witness and documenter of the drunken craziness, but I decided to go to the park because the sun finally emerged! Although I could not completely relax because of my acute paranoia brought on by finding a black grub burrowing in my blanket. The breeze blowing bits of grass and leaves on me did not help the situation. And then I stayed in for the rest of the evening. Because I'm social like that.

a Very Special Monday Morning

2009-03-16T12:28:00.000-07:00

I was eating my cereal with sliced banana this morning, perfectly content because that’s just how much I enjoy eating, when I coughed, or hiccupped, or sneezed, or performed some combination of these actions while swallowing. It threw me into a coughing fit. It was like drinking while breathing and the liquid goes into the tube to your lungs instead of the one to your stomach.

Anyway, I survived and finished eating. (Warning: stop reading if squeamish) Then I blew my nose—I know, this is riveting stuff—and I kid you not, Special K came out of my nose.

Apparently during my spaz-attack, my lungs rejected the Special K and sent the cereal to my nose.

And this was the highlight of the morning.

Which just goes to show how well my spring break is going in a city where it remains cloudy and on the constant brink of thunderstorms.

Evening update....

I finally embraced the iffy weather and ventured out to the park in spite of the fact that thunderstorms were expected. Let me tell you, there is no feeling like that of riding your bike through a downpour. I enjoyed every second of it.

Arielle

Sunday in Savannah

2009-03-15T15:28:00.000-07:00

The colors are so much brighter when it's overcast.

An alley. I may have cropped this one too much.

Lovely wrought iron.

I have such a thing for white flowers. So clean and pure amidst the general dirtiness of downtown.

The internet doesn't really do the color and clarity of this picture justice.

There are azaleas everywhere in Savannah right now. Hmmm...spring.

I spent today taking pictures. And going to LateCHURCH, which, today, was really ElementCHURCH masquerading as LateCHURCH. They did an impressive job for not having been the real thing and all.

Later on…

I ate dinner at a little corner bar called Juarez. Food tastes so good when it's cheap. Especially cheap Mexican food.

After dinner, Christa, Stefan (Christa's man), and I ventured down to River Street to observe the pre-St. Patrick's Day crowd. Excuse me while I sound like a tour guide for a moment—Savannah hosts the 2nd largest St. Patrick's Day festival in the country. 400,000 tourists are expected to pass through during the week. Savannah only has a population of 280,000, so all of you math geniuses have probably already figured out that 400,000 is more than all the residents of Savannah put together. Savannah also dyes its fountains green for the festivities.

Needless to say, I have heard much talk of the craziness of St. Paddy's Day in Savannah and am somewhat curious. Down on River Street however, I found the scene to be rather tame this evening. Well, tame compared with the madness that is Mardi Gras. As I have not completely lost my sensibilities and been to Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras, a direct comparison is out of the question. But I'll keep you posted on future St. Patrick's Day developments.

Much fun was had by all as we gorged on Mexican, laughed at the inane things coming out of drunks’ mouths, and sat around outside of Starbuck's practicing our accents. My choices for the evening were southern belle and Australian woman. Christa was Australian man. I think Stefan was British man.

And that is all.

Arielle

The Trials of Femininity

2009-03-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and decided to be a hermit. The weather was still not to my liking, and there was no pressing need to go outside. So, like any true southern belle, I got out of bed and prepared for my day indoors, shut away from civilization. I straightened my hair, dressed in a casual outfit, carefully applied my make-up, and crawled right back into bed.

Oh the need to look good while doing absolutely nothing. It's one of the many trials of femininity. It goes on the list with shedding an unnatural amount of hair while trying to iron it to perfection and having to hold down your dress on a warm and windy spring day. Seriously, girls get so excited when the first warm weather comes around that we have the urge to look all cutesy and wear dresses that are ill-prepared to handle the winds of March. But do we give in? Certainly not. We wear those dresses. And spend all day with our hands clamped to our sides. All in the name of femininity. What a cause. And don't get me started with the whole hair-shedding business. I could never commit any crime for the sole reason that I would leave hundreds of strands of evidence all over the scene.

Speaking of...

Curled up in bed, scrolling through my list of things to do over break, looking for an activity that did not require me leaving the vicinity of my bed, I stumbled across the word evidence. What is it there for? Nothing came to mind. Was I supposed to find evidence to help the police solve some grisly murder? Did I have evidence that I felt compelled to turn in to the local authorities? Did I know of evidence that needed to be covered up (ahem..like maybe my hair)? Was I supposed to plant evidence to frame someone for a grisly murder? I hadn't the foggiest idea. The word evidence made the whole situation seem very pressing, but I could not for the life of me remember what I was supposed to do with the evidence.

It's tough being feminine-what with the lounging and the indecipherable lists and dresses that flap with abandon, without regard to dignity and decency and decorum.

Arielle

Good Things Happen When You Go To The Gym

2009-03-13T14:07:00.000-07:00

So as I lounged on this blah day I made the decision to get off my bed and get to the gym. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy exercising (it's those pesky endorphins, they get you hooked), but I do not enjoy the getting ready process. Getting up off my butt, doing my hair so that it won't look a mess when I start moving, putting together an outfit to wear that "goes" but does not match because I don't want it to look like I try too hard just to work out, etc. Really, it's just my laziness shining through. This process takes about 6 minutes and it's only a 3-minute bike ride to the gym.

Here is the bookstore on the way to the gym. I really like this building.

Here are the lovely trees that brightened my day. They were all crisp white and blooming right in the middle of an ugly construction site.

And here is a fountain. They dye the fountains green for St. Patrick's Day. I think it's a travesty.

Finally, the gym.

I get on a treadmill, turn up my iPod, and begin jogging my little heart out. As I think random thoughts, as I am wont to do in the gym, like why does my nose itch so much when I run?, I see a man pass by the window in front of me. All I see of him is from his shoulders up and I am all Gasp! It's Bobby Deen. For those of you who don't know who Bobby Deen is, he is the youngest son of southern cooking queen Paula Deen.

So I think I see Bobby, and he rounds the corner and comes into the gym. I realize that it cannot be him because only SCAD students are allowed into the gym, as it is a state-of-the-art facility because we certainly pay enough tuition for it to be such. Bobby look-a-like proceeds to get on the bike right next to me.

And then he speaks.

It is certainly, without a doubt the very son of Paula Deen. Working out right next to me. 5 feet away. 8 feet max.

My eyes go really wide and I'm silently freaking out while thinking no one is going to believe me. I need a picture. Not just of him, with him. I decide to finish my jogging time and then approach him, but he gets off the bike after only 30 minutes! What a pansy. But he actually got off so he could go do his macho weight lifting thing, so I retract my pansy statement. I finish my run and lift some weights of my own, and as I very casually walk in his direction to put my weight back (because I am a pansy and only use 1 weight), I slap a sweet little smile on my face and ask Excuse me, are you Bobby Deen?

BD: Yes, I am.

CB (Creole Belle): Could I get a picture with you?

BD: Sure, do you have a camera?

What fool asks for a picture with someone and then expects that someone to provide the camera? But I obliged his lack of thought and answered.

CB: Yeah! I'll go get it.

So for all of you who wouldn't have believed me if I told you that Bobby Deen and I worked out right next to each other, this is for you.

Please excuse our sweaty and frizzy(on my part) state. Bobby and I just worked out.

Day 1 of Spring Break

2009-03-13T09:37:00.000-07:00

So the quarter ended yesterday and is supposed to be followed by 10 glorious days of sun and no school. So far, the no school part is holding up its end of the bargain. Sun, this is your cue.

The sun didn't listen. It's chilly and overcast and rain is expected. But it's all good. I've got a blanket, a stash of movies, an even more impressive stash of food, and a list of all the things I wanted to do but was too busy for, what with finals and all. I might piddle around with photoshop or maybe even post some pictures of my SCAD art later.

These gray, gloomy skies are okay for now, but when that sun comes out you better believe I'll be stretched out half naked in the park.

Just kidding about that half-naked part, Daddy. My bathing suit only covers about 1/4 of my body, so I'll be 3/4 naked.

Cockroach in My Clothes

2009-03-12T20:43:00.000-07:00

In my shirt drawer to be more specific. Lots and LOTS of pathetic girly screaming ensued. After the disposal of said nasty creature, Christa, my roomie, recounted a tale of how she once discovered a mouse scampering about her head and in her hair. I felt a little bit better about my roach ordeal knowing that, had I been in Christa's situation, I would have died. I honestly believe this is no exaggeration. My abhorrence of all things rodent is pretty severe.

I made the mistake of telling Christa of this detestation and then followed up the statement with an introduction to the nutria, of which they have none in that faraway land of New Jersey. Christa thought they were cute. Cute! of all things! Yes, I told her about the nutrias' tendency to be big, overgrown rats and have hideoderous orange buckteeth. She even looked up a picture of one. And she pronounced it cute. Christa is a lover of ALL animals. Forgive her. Anywho, after this conversation with her, I woke up one morning last quarter to find a picture of a nutria taped to my desk. I had a very quick, silent panic attack and literally thought who would do something so cruel to me? Then I saw a speech bubble proceeding from the nutria's mouth. It said Don't hate me. And I knew who did it. Christa, my freaky-animal loving roommate.

Oh, and the animals are freaky, not Christa : )

Arielle

Pretty Pretty Forsyth Park

2009-03-11T20:12:00.000-07:00

Isn't it beautiful? It was windy and the moss was just blowing in the breeze.

An odd tree. I think I'll bring a book one day and wedge myself into that notch on the right.

The fountain in Forsyth. There is only one other like it in the world--in Paris.

Aren't these sculptures in the fountain just darling? One day I'll come back to Savannah and borrow these for my yard. They'll go next to my arbor of Japanese Magnolias.

Ugh. I want to swim in it.

I think I'll take her too.

So Close, Yet So Far

2009-03-10T20:48:00.000-07:00

My friends were talking today. They all want to get a house for next year instead of dorm-ing it up again. They want me in on the plan. I want to be in on the plan. I mean, do you fully grasp what getting a house would mean? House=Kitchen! I would be able to cook!

The Problem: I have accepted a resident assistant position for next year.

RA=living in a dorm. without a kitchen.

The Solution: 1. Staking my claim to my own little square of carpet in my friends' house so it'll be almost like I live there too. 2. Offering to cook and...and...and...wash the dishes. Do you see how important cooking is to me? I'd be willing to wash the dishes, an action that I resolutely, without a doubt, absolutely stand in direct opposition to doing.

This way-when my freshmen residents get to me to the point where I begin to hyperventilate but not quite to the point where I begin rending my clothes and pulling out my hair-I'll have a place where I am welcome because I offer food. College kids are such suckers for food. They are waaay easy to figure out that way.

So close to my own kitchen. So close to fulfilling every one of my culinary dreams to my heart's desire.

Dear God,

Why do you dangle these things in my face and say, "No Arielle, not yet"?

Arielle

2009-03-07T13:08:00.002-08:00

You know that feeling you get when you get your new Everyday Food magazine in the mail, or you watch Giada de Laurentiis make some impossibly delectable meal, or bounce from food blog to food blog drooling over the pictures? That feeling that, when made audible, is a pathetic cry/sigh/moan because you are painfully reminded that you are a college student without a kitchen? Oh, you don't get that feeling? Well I suspected it may have just been me. I better get an apartment soon or else these cooking withdrawals are going to wreak havoc and manifest in strange ways.

In fact, it has already begun. Once, I almost asked one of the cafeteria workers if I could help her chop vegetables. The thought just popped into my head as soon as I saw that knife and cutting board. It wasn't until about a second later that the ludicrousness of this idea hit me. SCAfé doesn't just let withdrawal-ridden freshmen waltz into their kitchen and wield sharp knives in order to satisfy a culinary fix. Just get your food and keep walking Arielle. I actually had to tell myself this.

(insert pathetic cry/sigh/moan here)

Arielle

Just Call Me Cupcake

2009-03-06T21:50:00.002-08:00

A man called me cupcake today in the park. Now ordinarily I like being called food names-like when my dentist calls me muffin even though I am no longer 11 years old, and when my 6th grade math teacher asked me, "What can I do for you pumpkin?," and on the rare occasion when my dad deems it necessary to refer to me as peanut. These endearments actually make my day. But not so much when they come from creepy old men in downtown Savannah. I was stopped on my bike, fiddling with my iPod and cell phone and chapstick (you know, all the items that it's so safe to have out when you're riding your bike through traffic) when this man on the sidewalk begins walking toward me and says "Hey cupcake." He then proceeds to call me something like cutie or pretty girl. So I stash my stuff and ride away. I never know how to handle these situations.

Not only did this oddity occur today, but I also attended a make-up art history class, avoided certain death three times, got all of my supplies for my projects, found my bike seat that faithfully protects my hiney on a bike with no suspension from cobbled streets and cracking sidewalks, bought new journals and fabulous new pens, and picked up a fantastic new desk accessory for $2 at Goodwill (below). All before noon.

What can I say? I'm a busy girl.

Arielle

You Should Seek Counsel

2009-03-05T21:29:00.002-08:00

So here on day two of my first blog, I have hit a stumbling block. I don't know what to write. That last sentence should be said in hushed tones like it's a secret. I'm not proud of it. But the strange thing is that I've been thinking of what to post all day long, and I've come up with some pretty good stuff (I'm telling you, this blogging stuff is addicting). But none of what I've come up with seems appropriate for a second day blog. Hmm...curious.

So who cares?! I'm just going to post something like its not my second day and as if I've been at this for months now.

My college email inbox gets mail quite sporadically. On some days I'll have 8 or 9 new emails while on others I'll get none. Sometime last week I got a burst of mail. Hidden deep in that burst was link to a survey. I don't know how I managed to pick out that little piece of fine print from among the massive sea of text, but I did. And I can't resist a good survey. Or questionnaire. I just can't. Even if it doesn't apply to me.

This particular survey was a test for different disorders and conditions like depression and stress. Just for kicks, I tried out the one for eating disorders. I answered questions like How often do you go without eating (umm... 15 minutes. tops.) and Do you feel guilty after consuming a meal (after that salad I had for lunch?....No....oh, you mean the apple slathered in peanut butter and nutella followed by that bucket of breadsticks and a colossal slice of pizza and a pint of ben & jerry's for dessert?....well yes, I did feel rather guilty after eating that).

So I proceeded to answer these questions like a normal person and submit the page. My results: You have an eating disorder. You should seek counsel with your school's counseling center or other certified specialist.

What? I do not have an eating disorder. I am neither over- nor underweight. I exercise on a semi-regular basis. I eat a balanced diet-lots of veggies, fruit, protein, grains, dairy, and some fat. A girl's gotta have her fat (the world would be a sad place without ice cream). And I have stir-fry everyday! Stir-fry is good for you! Right? Well, assuming that it is, I do pretty well. But I apparently have some eating issues that need to be resolved by a specialist.

I do NOT have an eating disorder people. Believe me. I HAVE to eat. If I didn't, I would starve. Starving is not so high on my to-do list. As a matter of fact, it doesn't even make the top 500 items, and whatever comes after item no. 201 is just unnecessary and shouldn't be taking up space on my precious list. Additionally, I love food. I would never abuse it and give myself an eating disorder. Nuff said.

Oh except one more thing-just kidding about that gigantic meal, I didn't really have the breadsticks ; )

Arielle

Hello.

2009-03-04T20:31:00.002-08:00

So this is my first attempt to blog. I'm thinking of it as a trial run. I'm a busy college student and may not be able to pull this off--hence trial.

Why the sudden urge to create a blog? Simple enough answer--I was inspired. I read an article online and the writer made reference to a website that offered easy, delicious recipes. All I need to hear is 'good food' and I am so there. Before I knew it I was fascinated by this woman's blog--her pictures, her food, her stories, her writing style. I began looking at other blogs and I was hooked, and I thought I could try this.

So it begins. I really hope that I can do this. I know nothing about blogging. A blogging baby, if you will. Are there rules? Blogging etiquette? Do people just find me? Or is there some kind of self-promotion involved? Does my inability to consistently write in a journal indicate that this venture is destined to fail?!?

Sometimes I overanalyze. Just a little.

Arielle

About Creole Belle

2009-03-04T09:48:00.000-08:00

Hi! My name is Arielle and I’m a southern belle! Not really. I don’t have a southern accent and I’ve never been queen of a festival and I don’t own a corset or hoopskirt, but I do say “y’all” and I do make groceries and I eat fried food. I currently live in Savannah, Georgia and attend the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD), but I was born and raised in New Orleans. Like many New Orleanians, I’m Creole. Not Cajun. The Cajuns migrated south from Canada a few hundred years ago, the Creoles are a mixture of the bloodlines of the countries that have occupied Louisiana throughout history. I, primarily, am African American, French, Native American, and German with a little bit of Spanish thrown in for good measure. My momma says I come from good stock. I agree.

I read, dance, design, cook, and organize. I cannot sing nor am I photogenic. I possess an odd affinity for floor plans, school supplies, lemonberry slushes, riddles, avocados, caran d’ache neocolor II facepaint, quotes, and peanut butter. I am a dog person, not to be mistaken for a cat person.

One of my favorite phrases is soli deo gloria. It’s Latin for for the glory of God alone. Isn’t that beautiful? Bach wrote over 10,000 pages of music and signed S.D.G. at the bottom of each one. I want to live in such a way that I can stamp soli deo gloria on every page of my life.

Here on my blog I will post updates about my life in Savannah and tell stories about my life in New Orleans. I may even post some recipes if you're lucky.

Enjoy,

The Creole Belle