T-minus 24 days till The Big Move.

So, I moved home to Kennesaw for my last month here. Things just weren't working out anymore, and I'm sure, as shitty as it is, it's for the best for both parties. Driving an hour to and from work really sucks, but I guess I can get used to having home-cooked meals the rest of my nights in town. Plus, getting to see family 24-7 kind of rules, especially since I'll be 250+ miles away from them in a short time.

Finally took first place at trivia at Tin Lizzy's the other night. $50 house cash, suckas. That's two margarita pitchers, guac/salsa/queso trio, & then some. Delicious, and I enjoy putting our success in terms of food & alcohol. Only two more trivia nights before half the crew leaves. Heartbreaking.

I'm not that bummed Francoeur was traded; only bummed we traded him for Ryan Church. As long as McCann & Escobar are still rollin' with The Braves, I'll be okay. I hope I can still catch games in MS...

The weather has been perfect lately. I wish it was like this year-round, maybe with a smattering of 50 degree days in the fall/winter, just to keep things interesting. Is there a place in the US where such a thing exists? If so, I may need to move there eventually.

Currently in between two Greek phrases for my next tattoo (to go vertically on the left side of my ribs, methinks). Not sure which one yet, I need to weigh it out for the next week or two. I'm thinking option A, strictly for space-purposes.

Option A: "Know yourself"

γνωθι σεαυτόν

Option B: "Life is short, but art is long"

ὁ βίος βραχύς, ἑ δε ṯέχνη μακρή

Also, on the list of "Things to Do Before I Leave": The Clermont Lounge, kayaking, Asian karaoke, spend a day on the lake, Metalsome...

"Belly flippin', always illin', bustin' caps."

Today is such a nice change of pace from the past three weeks of ungodly hot weather that Atlanta has been blessed with. Drove to work this afternoon with all four windows down, no AC, blaring some Beastie Boys, and it was a glorious thing. I live for this kind of weather. I wish I lived somewhere where it was like this 24-7. Mississippi is definitely NOT going to be that place.

I've been a little slack with the blog lately; I'm sure all that will change in about a month. I officially peace out of the A on August 5th, then I will be full of newer and way cooler things to write about once I'm in Oxford. Until then...small updates will be the norm.

Textbooks have started arriving, and I registered for orientation. So excited! I have grad school orientation on Thursday, August 20th and then Southern Studies mini-orientation the next day. Classes start on August 24th. So ready to be back in an academic environment! I can only hope my brain is as ready as I am.

About three weeks ago, a close family friend tried to kill herself. Probably the most emotionally shocking thing I've had to deal with in quite some time. She is recovering slowly, and reading her husband's updates on CaringBridge every day just makes me realize how fragile life is, as cliche as that may be. I never want to take my family and their health for granted. I love them so much & cannot imagine where I'd be without them.

On Father's Day, my grandma made me sign a blood pact, Tom Sawyer-style, with her stating I would not get any more tattoos until she left the earth. Then she proceeded to tell me if I did get any more it should be something in Greek (not a bad idea, I might add) and/or I should be smart and get it on my butt. It was awesome. Proof of the blood pact (notarized by my little brother and everything):


Honestly, I still want this on the top of my left foot:


We will see if I follow through. I'm not tryin' to be haunted by my grandma's ghost when that time comes; however, I would love to get one more before I leave, and I've been wanting that one for a while.

OhmyGAW Minute Maid Pomegranate Lemonade, where have you been all my life?!

New ink.

Thanks to Danielle at Only You Tattoo.

Finally! Something worth blogging about.

As I was leaving for work this morning, I checked the mail on a whim. A Victoria's Secret catalog, Brian's Sports Illustrated, some bills, and bam. There it sat. A scarily-thin envelope with a return address from the Center for the Study of Southern Culture at University of Mississippi. I managed to make it down the staircase and into my car where I called Brian and read him aloud the letter:

"I am pleased to inform you that the Southern Studies Graduate Committee has recommended your admission to our master of arts program. You have an outstanding record, and we are pleased to recognize your achievements."

I promptly burst into tears. In a good way, mind you. But yes, it is official. My dream for the past two years just became a reality. I am headed to Oxford, MS in a little over four months. I was just in the town two weeks ago to look at apartments and will be living at Lexington Pointe. Move in day is Friday, July 31st. As of right now, it will just be Drake & I headed westward, but if BT can find a job, he will be joining.

The only shitty thing: the program doesn't have adequate funding for me to have an assistantship. This means I need to cover roughly $6200/semester in tuition & fees on top of off-campus living expenses. Owch. At least I was lucky enough to graduate from college debt-free.

As a result of this as well, the search for my dream car, a Jeep Grand Cherokee, has been thwarted for the moment. No tuition waiver + no living stipend = major loans, which a car payment definitely does not need to be added to. Looks like the Focus will have to be my partner in crime for a couple more years. One day, Laredo, one day.

This day is really what I have been waiting for for a little over two months now. I feel so relieved. Nothing else has seemed to be of any importance, hence the lack of blog-age.

Well, I should probably take that back. I did see Billy Joel & Elton John last weekend with my dad, and it was amazing. I will never get over the way I feel when I hear him play live while sitting next to my dad. It's like being five again, riding around in the Saab in Raleigh. Definitely was worth the money, and I would see them again in a heartbeat. On the other hand, $40 for a shirt was not so amazing. If there was anything I learned that night, it is when one has a prominent Billy Joel tattoo, that much money for a tshirt with his face on it seems ridiculous.

Speaking of ink, I think I may go get my anchor tattoo tomorrow. I wanted to wait until I got my acceptance letter, since the tattoo will serve as my reminder to stay grounded during my time in Mississippi and to not forget where I came from. Just like the horseshoe will be my good luck charm as I go it alone in a new town. And let's be honest, I love traditional tattos.

Obligatory Monday post.

Things just keep getting better and better. Seriously, it must be the horseshoe. Or maybe someone just decided to cut me some slack. I'm the happiest I've been in a very, very long time.

It's so weird that school is starting, and I'm not going back. It's borderline bittersweet. No more $7/day parking down off Decatur Street. No more homeless people hassling my broke ass for money. No more fighting through the plaza during the daily lunch hour rap offs. No more climbing five flights of stairs because the elevators are so damn crowded, it takes ten years to get on one. So yea, maybe that's not such a bad thing...

You know you are getting old when you get excited about things like new towels and sheets. Yesterday I bought these Thomas O'Brien bath towels for the new place, and they seriously are so big and soft. I'm going over to paint tomorrow, and I'm even excited about buying paint. Seriously. What gives?

Girl Talk's new record "Feed the Animals" is awesome. BT was listening to a song last week, and I was pretty into it so I went home and downloaded the rest of it. The way he mixes hip hop with classic rock is awesome; it's unexpected, but it works. It definitely makes me want to start working out again, ha. I think once I get settled in my new apartment and the bank account is done getting a beating, I may join LA Fitness and try and get on a 2x/week routine and work my way up to 3x by winter.

The Olympics have been really great to watch. I wasn't really watching that much of them when they first started, but this past weekend I've gotten really into the swimming, gymnastics, and track & field. It was ill watching Michael Phelps get his 8th medal. I wish I had an ounce of athletic talent in my body, but it looks like it's just always gonna be pen and paper for this kid.

I got my b&w roll from the train yard developed and printed, and they came out pretty good. They aren't as sharp as I'd like them to be, but I think the Holga just isn't a good camera to shoot with no flash indoors without lots of light. I bought four rolls of all different types and speeds of film, both b&w and color, and I'm really excited to go shoot. I need new locations to go though, so I believe a little urban exploration is in store.

BT and I took Drake for lots of walks this weekend, and I'm ashamed to say he is horrible on a leash. Coming to work with me has definitely spoiled him since he doesn't have to go for many long walks on a leash. For being a small dog, he pulls like a freakin' Rottweiler. I need to start getting my Cesar on with him. Last night, we walked around Inman Park to look at all the amazing houses and found that he has an interesting habit; whenever we are walking next to a yard that has a low wall, Drake likes to hop up on it and walk for a few feet then hop back down. It's so silly looking; he is just like a little kid. Best dog ever, seriously.

Tonight is the premiere of the fourth season of The Hills, and Danielle and I are having ladies' night in celebration. That show has been my guilty pleasure for years now, so it's only right that I ring in it's new season in style. We are eating lasagna, drinking beer, being dudes, and eating this for dessert.


Seriously, could it get any better? Doubtful. And this pretty much embodies my weekend:

So content.

"And the four right chords can make me cry..."

So, I canceled my appointment with the psychiatrist today. I woke up and thought to myself, "Hey, my life is turning itself around. Mary Jane and I slowly are parting ways, and I don't feel the incessant need to self-medicate anymore. Things are slowly turning themselves around. I think I'm going to be a-okay." Let's just hope that this decision doesn't turn around and bite me in the ass. I honestly would not be surprised if it did though. I guess we will see about that in the next couple of months.

I've pretty much diagnosed myself with my problems; I have a lot of pent up anger towards my mother and a certain emotionally abusive ex-boyfriend. As much as he loved to deny it, said boyfriend knew what he was doing when he constantly fucked with my head, but I honestly don't think my mom has a clue. Ever since I hit my twenties, we've butted heads more than we did when I was a teenager. I guess it has something to do with her not wanting to let go, but Christ, she needs to realize I'm pretty alright for a 22 year old. I mean, really. I've got my issues like everyone else, but I like to think I'm pretty well-rounded. Not to turn this blog into a rant about my boyfriend/mom issues - it just all came to a head last night in this crazy vivid dream I had involving my mom and grandma screaming at me to just get to Mississippi and leave them alone. Well, and my brother and his girlfriend were having a baby, and everyone was really excited. That was just weird.

As for the ex, that will just take time to heal...longer than I'd like. It has been six months since we broke up, and, without even talking to him, he still can manage to break me down to nothing. So many cruel words and sketchy actions are ingrained in my head, and I'm just trying to block them out as much as possible. More important than cutting my self-esteem down to nothing and isolating me from the things I love, he also managed to ruin a ton of great songs for me. THANKS. Now I can't listen to "New Slang" or "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" without my stomach churning. I managed to get Nick Drake back for the most part though, so I can't really complain.

Lately I keep thinking about Mississippi and not necessarily in an excited way. Just kind of neutral. A year from today I'm going to be all moved in, anxiously awaiting for school to start. I'm not really second guessing my decision to go to Ole Miss; I just keep feeling like I did everything backwards. Aren't you supposed to go to the city, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, after college? I went when I was 18, and now I'm completely jaded to the whole environment, wanting to leave everything behind for a town with 1/100th of the population I am used to. I guess that works out though. Still, I'm nervous at how I will adjust. No traffic and no smog will be awesome - but no Metalsome and no Northside? Eh. Not so sure about that.

I'm so broke it physically pains me to look at my bank account. I've slowly started paying off my credit card which I'm pretty stoked about, but other than that...not so stoked. I've exhausted my savings paying for my car to actually run smoothly, and I found out the other day I owe my apartment complex $1,055 for not telling them I am moving out sixty days in advance. Nothing surprises me anymore financially. I'm surprised I've controlled my debt as much as I have, but it seriously seems to get worse everyday.

My tattoo is totally scabbed over and disgusting looking. I absolutely hate the healing process. I just want to scrape it all off because, honestly, it looks like some sort of backwoods, prison tattoo right now. I just want the colors to be pretty again.

Smoltz is out. Tex is traded. Tim Hudson is out for the season after his Tommy John's surgery. Skip Caray died. What. The. Hell. We are cursed. It is official.

Do work.

"If you've got an impulse, let it out."

The good news first. I got my birthday tattoo yesterday at Ink & Dagger. I'm really pleased with the way it came out. I think the red makes it pop, plus the gold inside the horseshoe looks really good. The first five minutes hurt pretty bad, but like my other tattoos, I just got used to the burning sensation; it was all over with in a matter of 25 minutes.


It's weird having a visible tattoo; I like it. People usually don't even know I have them; I mean, hell, I hid them from my mother for almost three years. I'm pretty confident with the fact that I will never go into a profession that requires me to be super clean-cut, so I'm not stressing where it is. I know my family will, and that makes me sad. As open-minded as they can be, they still seem to equate tattoos with deviance, ignorance, and all other typical stereotypes that comes with permanent ink. I wish I could say I could prove them wrong, but unfortunately, I don't think that is going to be the case.

Bad news now. I have a gash on my hand (see above) from where my female rabbit bit the living daylights out of me. Tough, right? I feel bad because I don't get to spend as much time with me now because of Drake, but I'm afraid to try and find them a home because she is a pretty territorial aggressive rabbit. She isn't spayed, which I think might have something to do with it, but she is three years old, so I'm not sure spaying would be 100% safe now that she's reached her sexual maturity. Either way, it's kind of silly to say I have a mean rabbit, but it's true! I just wish I could find her a home where I knew someone would be patient with her and not just give her up at the first sign of aggression.

More bad news. The past week has taught me that I can't do the whole "boyfriend-in-jail" thing. I can't. Innocence or guiltiness aside, I can't put all of myself into a relationship that I get nothing out of. I know it's selfish, but honestly, I'm 22. I've been in some pretty ridiculously serious relationships early on in my adult years, and it is time for me to be selfish. I've been trying not to beat myself up about it which, as usual, I've failed at. It's just too hard to fight feeling like I'm missing out on something all the time, and this time I'm throwing my hands in the air.

REALLY bad news: Mark Teixeira was traded to the LA Angels on Tuesday. So bummed I didn't even get to go to a goodbye game. I'm interested to see if this Casey Kotchman fellow is any good. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do without seeing that sexy man on first base adjusting himself non-stop.

Oh, Tex. It's been real.

"I wanna swim away but I don't know how; sometimes it feels just like I'm falling in the ocean."

The past month has been really trying for me. A lot of things in my life just feel like they have been falling apart - friendships, relationships, my career path (or lack thereof)...nothing seems to be what it used to be. I feel myself isolating myself from people or things that I used to love, including my family. A major blow was dealt to my relationship that, needless to say, complicates things quite a bit. On a side note, I have no faith in the judicial system. And while they were "very impressed" with me, the company I interviewed with decided to go with someone who had more experience in graphic design. They offered me some part time contract work this summer (I accepted but haven't heard anything yet) and said they will still need to fill the position later on this year, but I honestly will probably just keep my job at The Wag and concentrate on busting my ass to get into grad school.

I'm going to be 22 in a matter of three weeks, and while that seems old to me, in the grand scheme of things I'm still fairly young. Sometimes I feel like I'm too young to be dealing with the things I deal with, but then again, I guess this is what they call life lessons. I just wish they had waited a little longer to manifest themselves in my life.

So, as truly shitty as I've felt for the past couple of weeks, I'm just trying to throw myself into things I love: photography, reading, Drake, etc. I'm trying to get out and do things I don't normally do, and I already feel it making a difference. I went kayaking at Up the River Outfitters in Buford for four hours (ten miles!) the other day and got the best sleep I've had in a while. We went camping up at Lake Hartwell Camping and Cabins in South Carolina last weekend, and it was a blast, although I'm still covered in mosquito bites.

I've started an account with flick'r to keep track of my photography. I think seeing regular people (not necessarily "photographers") photography on a regular basis will motivate me to get out there and shoot more. If anyone is interested in checking it out, the address is http://www.flickr.com/photos/meghanyea/ - leave me some feedback, I love it.

Apologies to my mother, but I am planning on getting another tattoo after my birthday. I am going to get a sailor jerry-style traditional horseshoe tattoo on my right wrist for good luck because, let's face it, I have none. I think I want it to be about pretty small, about 1 1/2" in height, colored blue/black with some white shading. Also, when (when not if) I get my acceptance letter from Ole Miss for grad school, I'm going to get my Faulkner tattoo on my back. I just can't help it. It really is true what they say ... you can't just get one.

All stress aside, I really love nights spent at Northside Tavern.

The end.