Christmastime Ramblings

When we're talking about things I truly and deeply love, Christmas time is high on that list. I think about all the twinkle lights to be strung, the cookies to be baked, the traditions to be held, and the family and friends to see, and I instantly start swooning in excitement.

This year, Christmas means something different to me. Not totally, completely or radically different, but a change all the same. For instance, usually my Yule time festivites are damaged by at least five or six final exams that succumb me to a week of Starbucks confinement to cram, and little time leftover to enjoy the season. This year, however, I haven't done anything remotely academic in a solid week and a half outside of class because I've already finished three out of six classes. Next week isn't looking too promising either because it's dead week, and I don't need two weeks to study for two easy finals. How do I spend this free time? Why don't you ask my Christmas Pinterest board, my organized shopping list, and my Netflix viewing history. I am living it up here in T-Town, blog-lovers.

While that's the upside of the season, the downside is that I'm not home with my family insuring that the house is properly decorated and making full use of our special Christmas china. My poor mother has weathered countless emails and phone calls from her daughter questioning the house's progress in the season. Even though she assures me that everything is coming along according to schedule, I still don't really believe her and I'm also formulating a list of things to do when I'm home for the break.

By far the best change, however, is the aspect of actually going home for Christmas. The songs "Home for the Holidays", "Home this Christmas", and "Baby, Please Come Home" take a whole new meaning. That 45 minute job means a journey back to home-supplied comfort in form of family time, familiar town scenes, and reunited friends who also made their way back . There is absolutely nothing quite like a friend bursting through your back door who was once an everyday face, but now is a rare treat. I think there's always that trace of fear that tip-toes into the back of your mind that questions whether or not the friendship has lasted time and distance. Thankfully, I think God designed the bear hug to clear up all confusion on the matter. Just like nothing ever happened, I'm back to long walks, hours of baking, days spent errand-running, and lingering nights spent catching up on each other's world.

Before December 11th comes and I depart from Tutwiler for almost a month, don't think I'll be spending my days twiddling my thumbs and anxiously awaiting for my Christmas to start. I'll be too busy watching Christmas movies cuddled in a chair at the Alpha Chi house and prepping for Tacky Christmas. The decorations went up the weekend before Thanksgiving and I've been basking in their presence possibly 65% of my days. Let's be real guys, Christmas in college rocks.

Freshmen Forum/ Tutwiler/Alpha Chi parties for hosting.
Graham crackers with nutella and marshmellow fluff for roasting (in the snack kitchen, of course).
Caroling out in the snow 65 degree heat in Tuscaloosa.
Well, I tried.

Did I mention I turn 19 in a week? Don't worry, I promise I won't relapse into the minor depression that occurred this time last year. I might as well start the celebration off a week early with a trip to Atlanta with the fam jam for the SEC championship.

And all God's people said, "Roll Tide".
Allie

"She gave me my first kiss. She taught me how to dance. She always was talking about these crazy things and I never understood a word she said. All I understood was that she was the girl I sat up every night thinking about, and when I'm with her, I feel happy to be alive. Like I can do anything. Even talk to you like this. So that's, that's what I think is love, mom. When i'm better because she's here."
 - Cory Matthews, Boy Meets World

Your Typical but Necessary Thanksgiving Post

Tuesday night I was thankful for the sweet potato, roasted brussel sprouts and roast beef dinner that was waiting on the corner farm table as I pulled in the driveway from Tuscaloosa. The apple pie a la mode was nice too.

I'm thankful for coming home not just for family time and rest this break, but to see familiar faces come bursting through back door like it was just another weekend night in high school. It's times like this that remind me that regardless of how different our lives are now, just one look of them dancing around the kitchen table and recounting the past few months confirms how much has remained the same. 

I'm very thankful for that.

I'm thankful for peppermint mocha coffee with my mom.

I'm thankful to be able to make a ham-cheese-mayo-absolutely-nothing-else sandwich with a side of fritos and milk for my sick brother. I'm also thankful to be sporting my "My Spartan wears #66" button to meet up with my friends at the Mountain Brook football game this Friday, even though sometimes I catch myself thinking that I would give anything to be in a cheerleading uniform. I PROMISE I'M NOT A SUPER SENIOR. 

But then I'm thankful that I can look to my new life, my new friends, and my new place, and that longing fades away. It also helps that Trotline is at one of my favorite fraternities on Friday night and I can pile in the car with friends (see, I'm not the only one going to relieve the green and gold forever days) after the game to go be a college student again. Did I mention I'm thankful I go to school 45 minutes away?

I'm thankful that I can stumble down the stairs at 9AM, clad in my "Santa is my Homeboy" t-shirt and without a care in the world, to be greeted by a fire, James Taylor and pumpkin chocolate chip pancakes. 

I'm thankful my sorority values Christmas just as much as I do, and that my hours of studying are now accompanied by Christmas decor and the festive hum of Justin Bieber floating from my laptop.

That reminds me, I'm thankful that my Justin Bieber Christmas album is still in my glove box from last year. Really unnaturally thankful.

I'm thankful for taking my last ever math final yesterday.

Let me reiterate, 

I'm SO STINKING THANKFUL for taking my LAST EVER math final yesterday.

I'm thankful for a car ride home from Montgomery with my dad filled with good hearted joking and flipping between Finebaum and Christmas music on the radio. Also, how this serves as a reminder of how scarily similar we are. Who else worries about getting ahead on tasks four months in advance and perfectly times throwing up a tennis ball in the family pictures?

I'm thankful for the Bromberg's Christmas tree.

A bonfire with friends.

Nick Saban and the road to 15.

Infinity scarves.

Spanish moss in Pike Road, AL.

And the gentle reminder that God whispers,
"This is how much I love you. This and so much more."

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

The Things We Carry

Monday morning unfolded itself in a rainy, windy haze customary of November in Alabama. Because I identify myself as the "good" student who wouldn't dream of skipping a lecture, that left me trudging across campus to go sit and cry at a Loony Toons' Wagner opera parody in Intro to Listening. The theme for this morning that reverberated through my mind was, "the struggle is real".

As our instructor discussed the Romantic era ending with the onslaught and horror of World War I, he also slipped in a side note about his own father who stormed the beaches at Normandy and took part in the liberation of Dachau. After returning from the war, his father carried a picture of the mutilation he found at the camp as a daily reminder to give his son (my professor) the best life possible. At first I was confused about why he would desire to tote an object reminiscent of such a horrific event, even if it fueled his motivation to provide for the next generation. After a moments worth of pondering, I slowly realized that we all, as humans, are designed to be carriers. Not just with tangible items like photographs or notes or tokens but more so with experiences and the emotions that coincide. The memories or thoughts we carry define our actions and our future; we continue to clutch onto these grudges or reminders as we walk amongst the earth whether we intend to or not.

I might not have a picture of my worst moment stowed away in my pocket at all times, but that doesn't mean it isn't always with me. The same sinking feeling still enters my stomach, the dread still takes over, and the unquenchable ache of inferiority still permeates my being to the core, all at the mere memory. If a situation in any way similar arises, my instinct is to coil back in the recollection and to attempt to hide myself from it's sting.

Part of our music lesson this morning was learning about the life of Johannes Brahms, one of the greatest composers of the Romantic era who got his start playing in the brothels of Hamburg. It wasn't until he was 44 years old that he published his first symphony due to the tremendous self doubt and inadequacy that still lingered from his lack of professional training that most conductors had the opportunity of receiving. While Brahms was a fantastic mind of the 19th century, the doubt he carried restricted him within the walls of his own insecurity, faltering his own growth.

Some things we carry build us up and give us strength for the road ahead; strength we know exists because we've witnessed it in action before. In contrast, some things teach us to not make the same mistakes again. Some things remind us to fight for a better day and not for just ourselves. Some things hold us back, or better yet, we allow to hold us back.

We choose to cower or to confront daily; to yield to our fears or embrace our courage.
To drag along our pain or to push forward our promise.

And here lies the true beauty of the things we carry; we are free to choose the cargo.

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us whether we find it or not." 

–Ralph Waldo Emerson

It's not interrogation if you're smiling

I find it absolutely fascinating to learn about people's lives. Anything from where they hail from, their family dynamics, what was their high school like, their favorite way to spend a Saturday morning, what they want to be when they grow up; you get the picture. In my opinion (one that is highly regarded, I'm sure), there isn't anything better than meeting someone new and getting to learn all about their world. Well technically we're all inhabiting the same one and most backgrounds are fairly similar, but it's riveting to peer into another's perception, another's insight.

A keen interest such as this is probably why I never leave the House. I'm that girl that is literally always present, mousing about, drinking infinite cups of coffee and Crystal Light all the while curled up on the couch in the living room, simply listening and inquiring about people's lives.

"So how far are you from the city?"

"What classes are you taking next semester? What's your major?"

"Were you a high school lover or were you one of those 'Dear Lord, get me out of here' people?"

"Do you have a lot of snow days?"

"Are you excited about Christmas? I'm experiencing slight paranoia that the Ingram family's Christmas decorations won't go up without my presence."

"Do you like flying into the Birmingham airport? I think it's one of the greatest places on earth."

Everyone is so different and complex, detailed and distinct. How is it that the mere mention of Denny Chimes to one friend can have the same wooing effect of Peach-O's and a Coke icee can have on another? Or that a pledge sister would rather run an hazy Fall afternoon away as her friend just wants to stroll to the Starbucks for a red cup clad drink, all the while discussing Taylor Swift's lyrical excellence? Some live hours away and aren't phased at all that a weekend visit home is out of their grasps, but others long for their 45-minute-away haven drastically more. People prefer studying at the library over the house, early mornings to late nights, fall to summer, Christmas to Thanksgiving, Skittles to chocolate. Struggles and triumphs alike are varied person to person, but somehow all are surprisingly similar and increasingly with each passing day, relatable. 

So, faithful reader, you're now aware of how I waste away my November afternoons these days. In between studying, applying for summer jobs, perusing Pinterest and wondering around looking for quotes, I actually get to know people and not on a "Name/Face/Hometown" basis. I find it funny that the more I understand about everyone and grow familiar with their lives, the more comfortable I become being apart of their new everyday. I prance down the sidewalk more, I smile into crowds more, I dance around laughing more; all because of that long awaited feeling of ease has finally come knocking at my door. And after flinging it open and shouting, "What took you so long? I was starting to think you'd never show!" I settle back and realize that this is what makes me absolutely, overwhelmingly, too-excited-to-fall-asleep happy. 

Maybe even you could call it 

(dare I say it)

joy. 

I love knowing people and I love having people know me. Pretty simple and straightforward, but incredible when you finally get the privilege of experiencing it yourself, especially when you feel like your life has been void of it for far too long.

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall." 

–The Great Gatsby

Cheesy Taylor Swift quote of the week:
"Your eyes look like coming home."
-"Everything has Changed"

We're All Running

I wasn't a runner until early this summer, when I sat down, looked myself straight in the eye and said, "Allison Leigh Ingram, your cheerleading days are over and you must pursue some sort of exercise outside of your walks between Gilchrist and Mountain Brook Creamery. Why not running?"

And I grabbed my iPod, downloaded a Couch to 5K app, and ran.

It started with the dragging feet, the I think I'm going to die if this dang app makes have to run an entire two minutes, limp-run. Slowly I discovered the Seaside backroads, the winding trails of Highlands, NC, and Jemison Trail in the early mornings before the heat and population of Mountain Brook makes it's debut. Before I knew it, I could run five minutes. Then it was 10. Then it was 25.

But then I went to college and the runs took a backseat to other priorities, like you know, making friends, handling college classes and walking to any location without use of GPS. Move in day, rush and classes starting left me in a three week daze. Until finally the day came when I laced up my shoes and braved the standing Alabama heat to revisit my summertime mission. Finally, I realized that maybe these runs weren't the Devil's attempt of slow and meticulous torture and that there was the faint possibility that I could, brace yourselves for this one, enjoy running. Or at least that feeling of simple satisfaction and ease that follows you throughout your day after you start it by jumping out of bed immediately onto the pavement. And sometimes, pre-sunrise Tuscaloosa was a better therapist than any friends or family members. 

None of this means that I always love going on my daily runs. One day my motivation could be that if I do today, then Saturday I'll take a break. Or I downloaded the new Taylor Swift album and I want a chance to listen to it through and through. There's also the "Oops, I went home this weekend and I had all my favorite foods. I should probably get off my bed and restart the week." But for the days when all that stands between me and the run is pure desire, I remember how much I love to drown out anything for 30-45 minutes and to run. To focus on something that isn't new or awkward, something that is guaranteed daily.

These runs were started as a way to stay in shape, or to stay busy, but before I knew it, here I am watching Breaking Amish on the couch and drawing a parallel between my daily routine and my actual living, breathing life. Some days we clear the sleep out of our eyes and are all in for living today; going through your tasks with a positive, "I can take on the world" attitude. But just as often, the days come where it seems easier to curl back in your corner bed and block out anything trying, anything that hurts. Regardless of the mindset, you still persist in putting yourself out there on the stage of the world to fight for a better life for yourself. Maybe that entails a better, healthier wellbeing, a better spring in your step in the afternoon, or even a better day down the road.

Just as if I only ran on the days where it was easy, if I only truly lived the days that came naturally alongside ease, I wouldn't be able to bask in the eventual accomplishment. Every time I walk down the Quad and greet faces that weren't familiar before three months ago, or receive a good grade I worked for, or realize that the feelings of loneliness are slipping away just as surely as the bursts of unabated joy are being ushered in, I'm reminded how far I've come.
How far I've ran. 

Pumpkin pancakes, Fall Saturdays in Mountain Brook, an Alabama win against LSU and a house full of pledge sisters bring this weekend to a close. Hope your's was half as sweet as mine!

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest. And if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself.” 

–Roald Dahl, Fantastic Mr. Fox