lunch with Tupac.

I teach 8th grade English in a very, ahem, urban school. Little to no parental support + raging hormones + a diet consisting solely of Hot Cheetos = my typical student. 78 awkward adolescences. They don't particularly like school; they much rather be "shopping" at the mall while watching J Cole videos on YouTube on their phones. You can imagine how difficult it is to get them to even pretend to be interested in reading and/or writing. Opposition and disinterest only make me all the more determined, so yes, I basically do a song and dance routine on the daily in attempt to somehow grab their attention and then, an even bigger feat, keep it.

Last week I bridged the gap between teacher and student, what they know and I what I know. I educated them on Coachella, and then showed them the Tupac hologram. They sat in amazed silence. They clapped when the hologram disappeared. They asked analytical questions about how holograms are designed. Knowing Tupac gave me about a million cool points and sparked a little creative writing. Believe. xoxo.

"Lord, beer me the strength."

You know those weeks when everything is a little...off? You can't really pinpoint what or who is contributing to this feeling exactly but you feel it, and all you want to do is fix it and feel all warm and fuzzy and normal again. This has been me all week and no, I have not changed my name to Debbie Downer but I have found myself a little overbooked and underwhelmed. Eh, this too shall pass. So maybe my methods are a little conventional, but here are some ways to combat that "eh" feeling, if and when you find yourself in the same temporary state of mind -

A.) Hot Yoga. Rest assure you will be thinking of nothing except holding each pose without passing out from heat exhaustion. I've never really been into or honestly, understood, yoga but I am all about any kind of physical activity that burns 600-800 calories in 70 minutes and improves overall flexibility. Believe. 

B.) Get in the tub. Yep, draw yourself a hot bath and just soak. I do my best thinking and sometimes my best blank stare in the tub. Read a book, sing to yourself, turn your phone off. Bubbles and beverage optional but highly recommend.

C.) Turn the music up and put it on repeat. Roll the windows down and blare your favorite all the way home. Sing to your furniture as you dance around the living room in your underwear. Some statistic somewhere proved that listening to music clears our brains and increases happiness (Adele not included).

D.) Go to dinner with friends. Or cook, what have you. Laughing with your friends whilst eating something scrumptious will make you forget all about that ridiculous "conversation" with your boss or how an eighth grader called you "petty" because you wouldn't allow him to write his essay on "Why Tupac is a Gangsta." 

E.) Sleep. I have been called a robot on more than one occasion, why? Because I can run on very little sleep and often do, however when it catches up it catches up. Take a nap. Fall asleep face down on the couch while "watching 30 Rock" and don't be upset about it. Sleep in an extra ten or so minutes in the morning. Be nice to your body.

If you have followed the aforementioned steps and still don't feel top notch just remember: at least you are not Kanye and rapping about Thera-Flu. Go be awesome.

xoxo. 

tighten up, spring.

Hello my name is Katie and I have been a very negligent blogger as of late. I attribute my brief absence to activities including but not limited to editing chapters 1-4 of my book, half-watching and 100% making fun of the dopey Bachelor finale and driving to Alabama on a weeknight to see Jack. Hey, we are all busy and fall short. Which leads me to this profound thought: spring weather is nice.

Spring in this part of the country means perfect temperatures free of that humidity we come to hate by early June - days filled with puffy clouds and plenty of sunshine. Music sounds better with the windows rolled down. Every food group tastes better whilst enjoyed on a patio or deck, and honestly, I've already forgotten what it was like to not be able to feel my face as I walked to, well, anywhere. The con of this storybook weather is that it will soon transform into a stifling summer and we will undoubtedly curse the sun as we are unable to function without a pool or handheld fan. So in honor of living in the moment and simply because my brain thinks in lists, here are some perfect activities to enjoy during this time of atmospheric awesomeness:

1. Go to the park. Contrary to popular belief you do not have to have a dog or a child to enjoy a nice outing to the park. Take a blanket, a beverage and reading material. Company optional.

2. Go run. Outside. Stop saying you're not a runner and go! Just don't run on a main road like some of the hardcore marathon-training "I run at 9 pm on Woodmont wearing all black" runners do. It's poor form and it's dangerous.

3. Buy tickets to a summer music festival. It's a win/win situation. You buy tickets in advance and they're typically cheaper, and you're guaranteed a ticket... AND you trick your brain into getting excited about being at an outdoor music festival in the summer heat. Case in point, Bonnaroo. We bought our tickets weeks ago and my brain is envisioning listening to Aziz be hilarious on a sunny, 72 degree spring day. I'm sure it will be closer to 102 degrees but don't tell my brain that just yet.

4. Eat outside. I can think of about 35 places within a fifteen mile radius that offer outdoor seating so no excuses.

5. Dress for the occasion. Put up the blah black and winter sweaters. Keep it light and add some color! Boys, you too. Seersucker allowed.

Happy Spring! Here's to freckles and plenty of buttercups. xoxo.

LENT. #absurd?

Ah, Lent. The time when we're asked to give up some form of luxury to pay penitence in preparation for Easter. (Side note: I love Easter.) Whether you find yourself to be a religious person or not, errbody can participate in the festivities. Just find something that you can plausibly give up for 40 days, whether it be breaking a bad habit or giving up a guilty pleasure. Sure, it may not quite be the act of self-sacrifice that the Pope might approve, but change is a good thing. And who wouldn't approve of that? So without further ado, some non-absurd things worth giving up...

1. Being so serious. There is a time and a place for staying on task and having that serious face. In the same manner, there are lots of times and places where you need to relax and enjoy life a little. Besides, you look prettier when you smile.

2. Pinterest. It's ridiculous. I much rather someone buy me actual bulletin boards and force me to place photos of Paula Dean-ish recipes and Ryan Gosling saying something semi-inspirational using actual pins.

3. Texting/Applying Mascara while driving. No, this is not my very own PSA but I have seen too many Dateline specials about the dangers of such activities and I am hereby making it a point to change my ways. I'm going to apply my mascara before I leave the drive way and will leave my cellular device safely in the passenger seat.

4. Watching Republican Debates and debate coverage. It's not worth it. Blah blah blah Romney, blah blah blah birth control. Besides, watching those debates is like watching four middle-aged men argue with each other over who is the least drunk and able to drive.

5. Being too rigid. Yes, it's great to have those nonnegotiables and to make it known where you stand -at work, in dating, life. But how are you going to experience anything new and exciting if you keep yourself straight-laced in your principles 24/7, 365? Stick to your guns but stay open to new ideas and the possibility of change.

6. Leaving voicemails. No one listens to them and why sit and awkwardly explain why you called when you can send a "tag, you're it" text? Work smarter, people.

7. Showing too much skin. Less is always more, ladies. Leave something to the imagination and you will reap positive attention. Same for you too, guys. Less product in the hair. Less Axe body spray. Less something.

8. Wearing ugly shoes. Life is too short to wear sub par footwear.

9. Being afraid. Whether you're scared silly of public speaking or maybe too shy to ask that girl to dinner, STOP! Change your ways! What good is there in fearing ______? Messing up would be the worst that could happen, and let me tell you, that is nothing to be afraid of. And remember, whatever happens you always have your good hair and winning personality to catch your fall.

10. Early bedtimes. As a night owl and possible robot, I am a huge advocate for staying up a little bit past your bedtime. Try to implement this gradually, testing it maybe on Wednesdays - middle of the week, nothing major happens on Thursdays, almost the weekend, etc.. Some of the best moments in life happen when the rest of the world is sleeping. Word.
xoxo.

THINGS FOUR WELL-EDUCATED WOMEN SAID WHILST WATCHING YET ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE BACHELOR.

They have the same part.
Chris Harrison is probably already on the island, floating and reading People.
The divorce isn't final from her wife.
An eating disorder? Tell me something new.
He's dead in the eyes.
His inner thigh! Nothing about that is attractive.
Do not make them get in the river.
They've photo shopped the camera man who is actually driving the boat.
Natives!
Yeah, I don't think they speak like, American Spanish, like, yeah.
He looks like Kelly Kapowski's father, no grandfather.
Look how white his inner thighs are!
After seeing that, I never want to be with a man again.
Even her laugh sucks.
Love her. Hate her foundation.
Turn the beat around, son.
Are they rubbing cheeks or are they kissing?
Do you have anything of value to say?
King Douchelord.
The close-up of her eyebrows is just as disturbing as her personality.
Oh my Bathsheba status.
Two on ones are the worst.
Who's the Chief? Obama? You're with Barack?
Cheesy hash browns.
Q: Is that a silk shirt? A: No it's linen, poly-cotton at best.
Don't mind us, just changing each other's tampons!
Ew, he had his tongue out way before she even leaned it.
Q: Why must he always wear those gay flip-flops? A: Because it matches his hair, which sucks.
#daddy issues
...And by model she means pole dancer.
YOU'RE THE MOST INSECURE PERSON I'VE EVER SEEN!
That dress looks like a carnation blew up!
Where did her country accent come from? She's from Brooklyn.
Annnnnd Resort Wear 2010.
He's just terrible.
Good hair attracts good hair. She needs to take her locks of love and run.
Who from ABC brought her all those magazines to use for her scrapbook?
Thanks for that close-up of the homeless cat.
Stop crying, you have an entire harem waiting for you.
She doesn't need to get married, she needs a therapist.
She's damaged goods, I'm over it.
Why is she playing with his pinkie?
He just said, "Do you want my mouth closed or open?" I can't watch any further.

love is interrupted, jack says.

Jack White.

It's no secret that I suffer from a mild case of severe admiration for the man. He plays the best guitar and manages to turn out excellent music with each band that he cultivates. He's mysterious enough to keep people (and the press) curious while leading a pretty simple life, which includes being a dad and a Nashvillian. Yes, I mourned a small bit for the official break-up of your favorite and mine, The White Stripes, but I fell in love all over again when the Raconteurs played a sold-out show at the Ryman last fall.

Jack has done it all, but this spring we're going to see a first: a solo album. Recorded in its entirety at Third Man, "Blunderbuss" is set to release in late April, which cannot come soon enough. Thankfully he went ahead and released a single, "Love Interruption," today via JackWhiteIII and hits iTunes later tonight.

As for comments on the solo project, Jack kept his thoughts to two sentences: "I've put off making records under my own name for a long time, but these songs feel like they could only be presented under my name. These songs were written from scratch, had nothing to do with anyone or anything else but my own expression, my own colors on my own canvas."

Here's hoping that he plays the Ryman. and Bonnaroo.

xoxo

No kitten heels.

Ah, self-control. Exhibiting discipline over one's self. Being in my twenties and more importantly a female I have generally viewed this as a nice sentiment but far too daunting to master. However, I vowed when I turned the big 25 and became a real adult that I would do better. I would go further, try harder, you know push myself. Let's get specific.

I've tried this first with the health and wellness regimen - to be more disciplined with working on my fitness. I started Pure Barre classes again, and I now know one thing for certain - PB is evil but highly effective. Who knew your muscles could shake so much from exhaustion and that a 55 minute class could make even your hair hurt? Every time I'm on my tiptoes, cursing life and tucking to an unidentifiable techno song, I think about something less painful and tuck a little tighter. "Get on your highest toes, think 6 inches - we don't believe in kitten heels!" - actual quote from instructor.

I further exhibited self-control whilst standing beside Patrick Carney waiting for pad thai takeout. Considering that I was in my vehicle blaring "Mind Eraser" just minutes before said encounter, it was an act of God that I didn't just awkwardly stare. Or hug him. I was pretty normal, for me, with just a dose of awkward admiration during our conversation. Here's hoping the admiration outweighed the latter.

And now to the ole' job. First, let's be clear: middle school kids are the worst. They ask too many questions, they're super needy, they smell, they can't be subtle about ANYTHING and only a few of them can respond to sarcasm. Despite all of these things, a big part of me loves them, thus why I'm attempting to teach them how to read. However, when one of them randomly started rapping "I like it when you call me big pa-pa" during an exam, I had to count to five in order to not lose my S. Hello, self-control.

Now, with all that being said, feel free to lose control every so often...to keep life interesting, of course. Skip your workout one day and go to happy hour and laugh to burn those calories that you aren't really too concerned about anyways. Next time something really awesome happens, like say you run into Ben Folds while picking up coffee only after meeting your possible soul mate in the parking lot, make it your facebook status and/or tweet that. You know you want to. Maybe call up (insert his/her name here) and tell them that despite your best efforts that you miss them -chances are, they miss you. And hey, you can always blame it on your momentary lack of self-discipline.

xo.