Wait, Where Did October Go?

I can officially check my first college homecoming off the list, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I absolutely loved having an excuse to be at the house 24/7 (I'm not exaggerating on times here), getting to cheer obnoxiously and winning almost every single event that took place this week, but I don't think I have ever been more tired in my entire life. That's saying a lot because I've been through countless cheerleading tryouts and several international flights spent sleepless "just in case the plane crashes". I shouldn't complain though, considering the fact that it's 12:26AM and I'm still hanging out at the house imitating the winning homecoming dance when I could be going to bed at a normal hour like a responsible individual. Yes, I bring these struggles upon myself and I am fully prepared to accept the consequences they bring. 

So what's the difference with Alabama homecoming and my high school homecoming?

Rather than yelling at a bunch of cheerleaders to focus in practice and to go wash off run-through sign paint brushes, I'm the one bearing the blunt of the commands. Mostly I hear, "Start gluing the blue background." or "Can you go pomp the giant chestaire cat that happened to have haunted you as a child along with the other Alice and Wonderland characters?" or the most soul draining, "Would you mind pomping some more baby blacks for me." 

What is pomping might you ask? Well, in simple terms, it consists of rolling up little squares of tissue paper in precise form until you have about, umm, a thousand. Then you proceed to glue them to boards in a picture reflecting the homecoming theme, generally including an image of Bear Bryant or an allusion to a couple national championships. These giant modge podges of intricacy proudly stand on the lawn of various sorority houses, all competing for top title. While there's always cheating rumors circulating and fierce side glances being cast towards any rival sorority's pomp, in a sick and twisted way, theses giant wads of glue and paper actually unify the Greek community between and within the houses. This is why in 10 years sororities will still be busting their guts every homecoming week despite the tedious labor, all for the sake of sisterhood and superiority.

Other highlights from the week include winning flag football, placing in basketball, the float and the homecoming dance, and wearing my lumberjack shirt for almost 20 consecutive hours void of judgement. I also pulled my first ever college all-nighter the night before the pomp had to be complete. Want a sketch of what this life-shaping event looked like?

9:47PM: Return to Alpha Chi after placing 2nd in the homecoming dance. Celebratory victory dance party commence.

11:57PM: After an hour and half of sheer persistence, my twin and I complete the 1000 word paper two minutes before the due time. Baby Chees: 1. Homeocming: 0.

12:04AM: Cue Alice in Wonderland letter pomping. Coffee number three downed.

3:24AM: Back up to the third floor to help another pledge sister about Big Foot. Instead we break into the Halloween candy and I power nap.

3:56AM: Awaken from power nap. Head downstairs as the final Sigma Chi departs.

4:22AM: There's no time like the present to take a trip to City Cafe for some grits and cinnamon toast. And coffee cups number five and six.

5:37AM: And there I was, standing on a scaffolding, shoving baby blue pomps onto the background of our masterpiece. All while wondering at what point did my life begin to take a turn for this direction.

6:36AM: Scaffolding down, final touches. The sun slowly rises over the faint outline of the KD house.

7:00AM: Register for classes. Get all of them, except for Southern Values. It's okay because I'm a DegreeWorks ninja and I will be in that class if it's the last thing I do.

8:49AM: Shower. Bed. Dead.

And just like that, it's October 29th and I've been in college for over two months. Trips to Auburn and Nashville, late nights, college classes, swaps, endless TCBY runs and a thousand zaps later, I'm in the final stretch before Christmas break and at a complete loss to where the time has gone. I'm already bubbling over with exuberance towards the scarf featuring outfits, football games, Alpha Chi Christmas decorations and other 2nd semester victories to come.

And somewhere in between the hot cup of coffee and friends that greeted me as I shuffled back to the house after the game, and the Sunday morning run along the river engulfed in the most gorgeous fall day ever illustrated, that the gentle but ever present whisper seeped into my mind,
"See Allison? You're exactly where you're supposed to be."

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly." 

–JRR Tolkien

P.S. These studs wanted a shout out, so here's to the people who have no other option but to share a house with me for sophomore year. They're fab.

Mid-Homecoming Week Thoughts: Words

 As you most likely know, I hate superficial, meaningless conversation more than almost anything. We're talking probably even more than my extreme distaste for ketchup and water on the bathroom floor combined. This intense hatred lead me to resolve to no longer allow myself fall victim to their entanglements, but after days filled with time to talk to my pledge sisters over pomping, I've felt myself slipping into a new, even more uncomfortable trend.

"I am so tired."
"She lit-er-ally never shows up at the house to pomp, I think all she does is go out."

 On this quest to move past the, "Hey girl! What's up?" I've resorted to any other icebreakers I can cram out of my repertoire. They can be ridiculous topics, like interrogating people about their family dynamics or why they decided to come to Alabama or even a more drastic approach of prying through the intimate details of their day, from what they ate for breakfast to what tests they need to study for after their pomping day concludes. I pretty much sound like a middle school guidance counselor.

But I've also caught myself succumbing to laziness and yielding to easy, thoughtless fillers.

"I have so much school work to do."
"Let me talk your ear off about how great my hometown/high school experience/home friends are! Maybe this will prove to you that I'm normal!"

I'm convinced that college brings out your inner awkwardness to such a high degree that eventually you are invincible to it's force, kind of similar to how Tutwiler builds up your immune system by first tearing you down to a point where no cold has gone before. If there ever is a nuclear war, I swear it'll be the girls who made it through a year of Tut and the cockroaches who come out alive. But in braving this initial stage of pure, uninhibited discomfort, I find myself turning to gossip, complaints and ego to carry me through the moments where I lack insight to handle. I catch myself saying anything just to fill the void; to take up space in the atmosphere between myself and others. Tearing people down to build myself up has sadly become habitual and it is from this destruction that I find I fuel my own pride and vanity. Instead of wondering how I can better encourage or enlighten others, I rack my brain for how to better impress them. 

But y'all, that's so wrong.

This is not how it's supposed to be.

Who ever said all silence must be labeled as awkward? Who reasoned that the only way to relate to 96 girls is through slamming each other in discretion? Who established that saying anything malicious or unproductive was better than not saying anything at all?

No one.

We are called to be intentional, authentic and compassionate. To speak with a purpose and to live with a purpose go together simultaneously, and neither can be successful on their own. Words are powerful, and just as guns and white flags are equally influential, so can our conversations be utilized as either a weapon or a unifying connection. And I've been using mine to wage a war without a cause, a war that doesn't even exist outside of the caverns of my mind.

As three more days of pomping loom in my future, I embrace their presence with open arms, even if that means I also possess a closed mouth. Not in the awkwardness that looms over college, but in the purpose that I've been given to use the gifts of speech and community to further The Kingdom.


To the Moon and Back,
Allie

Words are so powerful that they should only be used
to bless,
to heal,
to prosper.

11

“What I’ve learned is not to change who you are, because eventually you’re going to run out of new things to become." -Taylor Swift

Surprise! My Utter Lameness Continues in College!

Want to know what I've discovered in college?

I can add DegreeWorks to my misunderstood and underestimated talents, along with playing laser tag, ordering off restaurant menus and saying the presidents in order. Do any of these "talents" have any remotely useful value in society? Of course not. As it turns out though, it actually comes in handy being able to act as a second advisor to your friends and getting to walk into your own session completely prepared. But at the same time I want to shout, "I can only hope no one else realizes my inherent ability because THIS IS ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING. A 18 year old freshman girl shouldn't be so comfortable with online class scheduling and credit organizing, and so awkward in literally every single other aspect of college!" The only true explanation for this talent, however, comes from my major: Journalism and History with a minor in French. If that doesn't scream I spend too much time on myBama and not enough with human interaction (this includes online social media), then I don't know what does. 

I've also determined that the Freshmen Fifteen does in fact exist and there is almost next to nothing one can do to halt it's progression. Running daily, stopping at the salad bar and counting all the calories in the world won't help you in the event of red velvet baby bites appearing at your initiation reception. Even if you have the self control that I have watched slowly diminish as my time at Alabama has grown, you will gain weight. Embrace it and pray that when you finally get settled into college, all those pesky pounds will come right off. Let's just hope that "settled" isn't determined by finally being able to navigate yourself from Tutwiler to Target without a GPS, or else we have a long way to go. 

When you go to college, your social media popularity increases dramatically. It's rare that I don't log onto Facebook without seeing the little red notification sign of a tagged picture or group wall post. Let's be honest, I was never that popular in high school. Also, people are more prone to like your profile picture. Don't believe me? Check out my pre-college/post-college ratio. I'm not lying. And we probably should also start to address the fact that my ego increases by a solid 10% with every like. 

I never thought I would say this, but I'm actually good at Math. Stop bracing yourself, the world's not going to explode. Turns out all those tutoring sessions and early morning teacher interrogations in high school paid off because homegirl made a 100 on her last test. My reaction to this news? I told literally everyone in sight (not intentionally bragging), called my parents and texted my old math teacher. I told you that this was HUGE! I was literally on Cloud 9, until I walked into my next math class. My teacher stood at the podium and informed the class, "The test average was 86.5 (imagine me looking around, my ego literally too big to contain within my person), but I'm not surprised. This material was shorter and easier. Be prepared to work hard in the next few chapters because it will be getting more difficult." Of course it will.
Oh, well. For now, I'm going to bask in my 100 and completely ignore my teacher's commentary.

Final observations:
Taylor Swift's new album comes out in five days. Now if only she had a nail polish line, I could die a happy girl.
I go to Nashville for the Vandy/Auburn game in two days and judging by Auburn's recent performance, it looks like the Dores have a fighting chance. You know what that means...GREAT parties. If they win, they're super excited; if they lose, they aren't really surprised or bummed. It's a fail proof plan! I'm also getting cowboy boots and tracking down T-Swift. Bye.
Homecoming is next week, meaning I get to experience much school spirit and hang out at Alpha Chi constantly. I mean I do that anyways, but now it's justified and no one will perceive my dorkiness and judge me.
I'm going to a Halloween date party tomorrow dressed like Hermonie. Of all things, I get to be a Harry Potter character, something I've dreamed about doing for forever, especially in that two month phase in 10th grade where I re-read the first five books. I would stay up until 3AM reading, and before I knew it, I'd be sitting in 1st period without a clue how I woke up and got to school. It was one of the weirder two months of my life. Anyways, we all never foresaw me being this lucky when I moved in to Tutwiler two short months ago and I might as well enjoy it while it lasts, just in case this is similar to my math grade's apparent imminent doom.
Christmas is in two months.

All is right with the world.

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"Sometimes the only way to catch your breath is to lose it completely." 

–Tyler Knott Gregson

Ode to October

Confession: I'm an October junkie.

But as if you didn't know that already...

So far my month has consisted of a fall break home and the start of initiation week with little else. I'm a sucker for a good trip home. Side note: I have been home twice since college has started and considering I only live 45 minutes away, this is a big deal! Don't even try to convince me you don't love your own bed and family's undivided devotion from the second you walk in the door. 

Wednesday was my first full day back in the Ham and I spent the morning in my new favorite coffee shop hang out, Urban Standard. I had a LARGE coffee complete with a pumpkin chocolate chip muffin that was the bee's knees. Whenever I eat pumpkin and chocolate together, I'm instantly taken back to Spring Break when I first had the combination together in the form of my friend's mom's gooey and completely sinful Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bread. And just like that, I'm back dancing barefoot around the island in the kitchen, bathing suit and PFG clad with the sea at my back and friends around every corner, listening to Jack Johnson echo throughout the house.

Thursday was spent hitting up my most missed hotspots of J. Crew, Anthropologie and Bottega with my Mom, along with the best nap known to mankind, complete with awakening to the buzz of the coffee pot for the 5PM pick me up that we collectively crave. My friends returned to my house as if August never came, and continued their activities of hovering around the kitchen as I made cookie brownies and talking with my parents who I believe miss them more than they miss me.

I also had the chance to hang out in Auburn, which I'm always up for; just not for the football team. Or night life. But if it means I get to see my friends from literally across the country, go to a Luke Bryan concert and sit in Big Blue Bagel with my newly reunited best friend and do history homework during the game, then the trip is certainly worthwhile. Another up side to journeying down to the plains is that it makes you Tuscaloosa homesick. I itch to feel the Strip's energy, relax in my cozy bed in Tutwiler, immerse myself in the chatter and bubble of the Alpha Chi house and soak in the way the Quad looks at night so much that I make record time from Birmingham to Tuscaloosa. Back to Title Town. Back to school. Back to the new normal.

Initiation is underway and I don't know how it's possible, but I feel like I can safely say I've gotten closer to my pledge class in the past week than I have in the past two months. Those moments of "I can actually get used to this" come more and more often, as do my trips to the new Ferg Starbucks, which so happens to be the largest in the nation. I know what you're thinking; Alabama? I don't quite get it either but I'm not about to start questioning. This week also requires all the pledges to dress up for class, meaning I get to break out the boots and jeans and prance around campus flaunting my pledge pin for the world to see. Well, that's highly romanticized because I generally roll out of bed and grumble at my closet to produce an outfit that will make do in substitution of my T-shirt and nike shorts get up. But I am a sucker for fall clothing, fall nail polish colors, fall foods and fall busyness. 

Initiation, house shopping, homecoming, football season; I barely get the chance to stop and catch my breathe, or even take the time to realize that I'm used to Tuscaloosa. Yes, I said it. I'm used to Tuscaloosa, my schedule and my friends. And we all thought that would never happen! Hard days will come, but thankfully the good days continue to appear more and more often.

 Like this week, for instance:
100 on my math test.
New pumpkin flavored coffee. 
Dinner with my mom along the Black Warrior River at the Cypress Inn, my favorite Tuscaloosa restaurant.
Phi Gam Swap. Why did I stay out until two last night when I had to be up at seven, and out until three or four tonight? Because I am dumb. I am dumb.
Big/Little Reveal.
Schedule organizing, and I'm already excited about my classes for next semester? I want to take a "Southern Values" class and I'm wooing with completely normal, controlled excitement.
Signing the house with a porch and a comfy white bedroom. 
Breakfast at Tiffany's opens on Broadway in 2013. Someone gets me in the Big Apple.
And tonight, Carnation Ball, which I have neglected to start getting ready for and my date gets here in an hour. But here I sit, picking at my custom Boar's Head sandwich, void of the onions, pepper jack cheese and spicy mustard it usually contains in lieu of tonight's events, blogging about my utter happiness with my favorite TLC wedding show on. 

He puts the lonely into families.
C'est vrai.

To the Moon and Back,
Allie

"I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight."

 – F. Scott Fitzgerald

And That's When I Realized I Was Fearless

(while writing her book about the cooking class in Paris) "I am way ahead of the others in this class, all men! All of them very unfriendly until they discovered that I was fearless, something I realized about the same time they did." -Julia Child, Julie and Julia

We've already established the fact that I have phrases dancing throughout my mind coinciding to what is prevalent in my life at the moment. Recently my anthem of choice has been "Chin up, charge the mountain", directly related to this new thing we call college. I repeat it to myself (sometimes out loud) before taking an online math test, walking into a "college party" or sending a new friend a selfie for the first time, which believe it or not has been one of my main techniques of friend making. I'll probably be screaming it to myself before I walk into that fraternity house this afternoon to make that announcement about Walk a Mile in Her Shoes, Alpha Chi's philantrophy event. It's served me well over the past couple weeks so I think it's earned it's place in my repertoire of frequent favorites. 

But something that keeps popping up in the jumbled confusion that is the inner workings of my mind is this Julie and Julia quote, modified to "That's when I realized I was fearless." Julie and Julia is one of my favorite movies to date because it combines cooking, French and blogging; what else do you really need to please me? Well, that is besides Alabama football and afternoon naps. But Julia had a good point here. Just as when Julia plucks her chin up and charges into an all male cooking class, I'm here in 2012 mustering up any form of courage to embrace my new life. You have to be absolutely fearless to attend such a big school that Alabama is, and I'm going to simultaneously rag on/brag on myself for making it so far. It hit me that I've been caught up trying to "charge through" all the ominous mountains - going through rush, leaving home, making friends, balancing six classes - that I never actually gave myself credit for not only surviving, but thriving. Taking a step back, I've realized that I haven't been so shabby. I've made friends and am slowly but surely breaking out of my awkward shyness that I'm so unaccustomed to and yet find myself clinging to for dear life in any social setting. I've gotten involved, so involved that I don't have a second to breathe. I'm entering roles of leadership early on that I had to wait until senior year before I was brave enough to pursue.  To say that I'm typically my own worst enemy would be an understatement, so this mindset is a 180 degree turn around for me. 

I think it first occurred to me that I was fearless when I started talking to a random girl at Freshmen Forum, not making conversation but TALKING. An actual living, breathing conversation, not one of those space fillers that have sadly become habitual. Maybe it hit me when I was walking around a band party for someone to make conversation with. Yes, you heard right. Your's truly going out on her own to talk to whoever she saw in the line of fire. You know, it actually probably was when I went alone to a church yesterday morning where I didn't know a soul. I had been wanting to go check it out and I couldn't find anyone to go with me so I just...went. 

WHO AM I AND WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH ALLISON INGRAM?

Sure, I still pep talk myself nightly: "Okay homegirl, you have two options. You can either stay cuddled up in your bed watching One Tree Hill and avoiding any trace of human interaction OR you can carry yourself over to the house and put yourself out there to make friends." I congratulate every single person who has gone to a new, unknown place because there is nothing scarier than throwing yourself at people in sheer hope that they'll see something there that they're drawn too. The fear of rejection is the strongest thing holding us back from the person we're meant to be and we, fellow freshmen, are stinking fearless and we should give ourselves a well-deserved pat on the back.

One of my bad habits is that I debate and overanalyze my life decisions on a daily basis. Should I have gone to Auburn or Vandy or Furman? Should I have not pledged Alpha Chi and been with all my friends from home instead? Should I not be a History/Journalism Major with a minor in French (go ahead and ask me what I'm doing with my life)? Should I just skip Cru because I don't have someone to walk with me there? Should I just stay quiet because what if they don't like me?

The answer to these questions are all the same. Yes, it would be easier, but no, it wouldn't be furthering the pursuit of your true self. It wouldn't be what you were called for. You haven't been given a heart of fear and passion for anything never arrises from complacency. So chin up and charge that class, those people (not literally), that position, because you, Allison Ingram (or anyone else) are fearless.

And it's high time you realized it yourself.

I promise the pep talks and sappy sonnets of posts will stop soon. I blame their occurance solely on entrance to college, increase of coffee consumption and the fact that I'm averaging a season a week on One Tree Hill. You'll be back to the ramblings and facepalms that plague my life soon enough!

To the Moon and Back,
Allie


"Courage! I have shown it for years; think you I shall lose it at the moment when my sufferings are to end?” 
– Marie Antoinette