A Very Lucky Girl

The presents have long been torn into and the wrapping gathered into trash bags and I'm left with wonderful blessings from a thoughtful family.  Several monetary gifts that make my journey to Scotland in Spring 2014 much less a dream and much more a reality. A beautiful pearl necklace. A new (stylish) pill case to hold my necessary drugs. Make up that will greatly aid my face. Socks to warm my toesies. Gloves to heat my handsies. Jewelry to decorate my ears and my finger. Garments to clothe my body. And one of my favorites, words to warm my heart.  I unwrapped a box from Sharbear that contained a slim, green notebook, sturdy envelopes, stamps, and a set of pens. Inside the journal I found an entry with instructions. Mother-daughter journaling by mail. One of the sweetest ideas I've ever heard and I almost want school to hurry up so I can write her back immediately! Sure, my school is only about forty minutes away from home. But that doesn't mean life doesn't

J P Rosenbaum and Ashley Hebert publicly married on December 1st in California, but shared their story with the rest of the world on ABC on December 16th. I was unfortunately (fortunately?) occupied with an incredible Christmas party involving all of my coworkers at Fuzzy's so I relied on TiVo to capture the moment. It captured most of the moment--right up until "coming up, the couple exchanges their emotional vows" thanks to a Wipeout episode that exceeded its alloted time.  Chris Harrison presided over the ceremony and the broadcast, highlighting the astonishing fact that this is the THIRD bachelor franchise wedding. Out of at least 20 seasons, I think...The odds are never in their favor. The camera cuts to "the life that JP and Ashley have already started building together" (aka: national television speak for living in sin) and flashbacks to their journey on Ashley's season of the bachelorette. Their first kiss appeared to be entirely left up to chance

Nothing puts me in the Christmas Spirit like some NSYNC. The entire album is a gem of the 90's. Christmas is my favorite holiday, hands down. The decorations, the food (we've made 3 batches of caramel corn in a single week), the family, and the generosity. I can't get enough of the season that celebrates the birthday of the ultimate Giver.  Traditions sweep over our home, like a familiar quilt, when December rolls around. Decorating the tree and wrapping presents with Sharbear ornament the days leading up to the magical 25th. Christmas Eve is spent at the candlelight service, followed by a meal at a Chinese restaurant. We've done that for at least 10 years now. A tour of the city Christmas lights and a reading of the "Cajun Night Before Christmas" come to fruition before setting out goodies for Santa ("you know, I think this year Santa is craving a cinnamon bun and a diet coke!") and skipping to bed, only to lay there for hours, anticipation crowd

judge away. Circa 11th grade Consider this an intervention. Trust me, I've had my fair share of selfies. But then I graduated high school. high school shopping swag These are some hard and fast rules of those pesky self-absorbed images: 1. Try to have another person in it. I have zero judgement for the visible arm holding out the photography device if there are two faces in the frame. Sometimes you just don't have a third person to take that perfect picture. We forgive you. 2. If a partner is unavailable then at least use a webcam and NOT a mirror. Myspace-esque photography ended at the same time as That's So Raven. And no one cares to see your current brand of toothpaste reclining on your bathroom counter.  3. Keep ALL clothes ON.  I cringe when I see those horrifyingly low slung shorts as people boast in their gym time. I'm proud of the mornings I spend running as well, but I'm not trying to plaster it across Facebook. Save it

This song, "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry, has taken on whole new meaning following the events that took place in Newtown, Connecticut last Friday. A touching song, I disagree with the line that declares "I've had just enough time." Charlotte Beacon will never have her double digits 10th birthday party Daniel Barden will never try out for the high school football team Olivia Engel will never be a teenager Josephine Gay will never get her driver's license Ana M. Marquez-Greene will never go on her first date Dylan Hockley will never be voted Most Likely to Succeed in the yearbook Madeleine F. Hsu will never have kids of her own Catherine V. Hubbard will never walk down the aisle to get married Chase Kowalski will never take a girl out on a date Jesse Lewis will never mow the lawn James Mattioli will never be a dad Grace McDonnell will never be Homecoming Queen Emilie Parker will never have that first babysitting j

"I'd really like it if the Mexicans would keep the oil lids on more tightly so nothing would spill out into the Gulf of Mexico and kill the animals"--musings from Brother For those of you that missed out on the shenanigans of Brother and Sister from my summer full-time nannying experience, you can catch up here . There .  And here . Okay shameless blog promotion stops now. I'm scheduled to work for them only 6 full days during this break (the kids start school again on January 4th!? What is that madness?!), but those days already promise to provide fresh entertainment for me. And consequently, you. I walked in their door this morning (fueled with a java chip frappucino) and was immediately handed a large Christmas present. "Our elf on the shelf left this for you!" Oh no. They're one of THOSE families... (I'm still not sure where they stand on the whole is-Santa-real situation, but this wasn't a good sign. Neither were the "top secre

I was sitting in the Starbucks on Campus Corner during dead week, snatching a few extra minutes of studying before heading out into the brisk night, when a stranger haphazardly approached me. Our conversation transpired as follows: Would you switch seats with me? Uhhh why? Cuz I want to sit by the window. [nervous laughter] Well so do I. can I sit with you then? [indicates the entirely separate table merely shoved up against mine by a prior customer] Uh yeah you can sit there, it's fine. [buries head in notes, hoping to deflect any further advances] What's your name? Is that what I think it is? [touches rape whistle on my keychain laying on the table] Yep, it's a rape whistle. [not so subtle emphasis on the rape] Oh. so what's your name again? Taylor. What do you do? I go to school Oh I dropped out in 10th grade and got my GED. i might go to OCCC in january though. My boyfriend went there. [quick insert of boyfriend line. GOT EM.] Oh cool. What's h

Tyler and I are literally THE WORST at giving presents on the actual day of celebration. I think it's becoming more of a tradition than a faux pas. Who knows, we may end up celebrating Valentine's Day on February 1st or something equally ridiculous. I gave him his birthday present (originally designated for June 18th) around June 10th and he reciprocated by presenting me with my birthday gift weeks before my twentieth year of life. I had been working on his Christmas present since October and that's a really, really long time to keep such an epic secret. So I knew I wouldn't last much past Thanksgiving, when I completed the project. My gift to him was also time sensitive so I told him I needed to give it to him before Christmas. He caved to peer pressure and agreed to exchange gifts at the beginning of December. The plan was to decorate the tree at his house on November 29th, switch presents, and then watch Elf. We did all of that, except we opened presents on Novem

Tuesday night featured the closest thing to free porn debuting on TVs across the world. The Victoria Secret Angels and Justin Beiber strutted their stuff on the stage, making nearly every viewing girl vow to start the Spring Break diet now. I attended a watch party at the ever-popular Seven47 on Campus Corner hosted by my dear friend, Natasha. She has been the campus intern for Victoria's Secret Pink this year and I've benefited greatly from her job, scoring free yoga pants, underwear, water bottle, and duffel bags. I also may or may not have left the watch party with 14 Victoria's Secret Rewards cards worth up to $500 each. Granted, 13 of them were only worth $10, but I got one lucky $50! Prior to the kickoff of the underwear fest I scrolled through twitter and saw a plethora of updates, some directing me towards drinking games (i.e. Chug everytime an angel trips, sip whenever you hear someone around you say they aren't ever eating again) and others already demeani

So I mentioned in a previous post that Tyler would be guest writing to share his side of who he has found me to be, in rebuttal to my sharing the observances of him in a post that celebrated our 6 months together. He emailed me his words, complete with pictures, for your enjoyment. I'm sure that everyone who regularly reads Taylor’s blog has a pretty good idea of who Taylor Arceneaux is, but I’d like to give you a little inside scoop of what I’ve learned about her over these last seven months. Taylor Olivia Arceneaux was born on July 1, 1992 in Bloomington, Indiana to two spectacular parents, Paul and Shari “Sharbear” Arceneaux. She has one younger brother named Oakes who will be graduating from Heritage Hall this year. And I can’t forget her wonderful grandparents (with a free meal from Slim Chicken's and Longhorn Steakhouse, wonderful might be selling them a little short.) She has lived in Indiana, Tennessee, North Carolina, Texas, and Oklahoma over the last twenty ye

It's that time of year again when I need to study instead of writing blog posts. So I will be momentarily abdicating the throne as queen of averyluckygirl-taylor.blogspot.com until next Sunday, when I will resume the customary 3-posts-a-week routine. My sincerest apologies for not providing you with fodder for your procrastination attempts.  One final word of advice before posting the obligatory #finalsprobs tweets and status updates: your finals are not worse than anybody else's. Everyone's final projects and tests are the worst thing to ever happen to them in their opinion. So don't bother tooting your negative horn.  Happy finals from A Very Lucky Girl and may the odds be ever in your favor!