My View From the Top of the Stairs

My View From the Top of the Stairs

The year was 2012. It was a Saturday in February, and I was nestled in my warm, comfy bed. Asleep. Deep, unbothered-by-dreams-or-stirring sleep. When all of a sudden, I wasn’t. There was a siren! I was under attack! This was the end! I am not a fast human by nature, but in that moment I was a jungle cat. Out of the bed, down the hall, by my parents’ bedside in just a few bounds. My parents were out of…

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Hey, Nashville-I Just Called To Say I’m Sorry

Hey, Nashville-I Just Called To Say I’m Sorry

In 2016, I spent a significant portion of my time fighting a love for my new home. I had arrived in January with a steel resolve to be brave in the face of all the new. I was happy to be at my job, but that was about it. Though Nashville did all it could to reach out and extend a welcoming hand, I flat refused to speak. I spent the whole first year of our relationship pining over my…

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Hey, What’s The Deal With Hot Yoga?

Hey, What’s The Deal With Hot Yoga?

I do not like hot yoga. I could’ve said this with total confidence without ever actually going to a hot yoga class. However, my aversion for this activity has a new weight to it that comes only from personal experience. I went to hot yoga recently, and judge me if you will, but PEER PRESSURE IS REAL Y’ALL. “You might like it, Elizabeth.” “It’s calming, Elizabeth.” “It releases toxins, Elizabeth.” “You’re 24, Elizabeth; try new things.” Let me tell you…

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Then He Smiled At Me

Then He Smiled At Me

My third grade year was interrupted by a move to a new state and a new school. My family unpacked in Alabama at the very beginning of December 2001, and Johnathan and I were put in a local public elementary school. I had stepped out of a one-hallway private school into a web of hallways lined with classrooms and filled with throngs of other children. I spent most of my time there trying to be invisible. It was Christmastime. Our…

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I Never Laughed at 24

I Never Laughed at 24

A very specific memory has been running through my mind recently. It was a conversation I had in high school, somewhere near sixteen. The whole thing is a little frayed, but the edges start to crystallize around a certain point when the age of twenty-three came up in a conversation about the future. I raised my eyebrows and laughed uproariously. “I’m never going to be twenty-three!” I howled. The thought was absurd. Though it was only a seven-year stretch from where…

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A Thumb That Isn’t Green Yet

A Thumb That Isn’t Green Yet

When I moved into my apartment a several months ago, I felt an overwhelming surge of domesticity. I wanted to cook things and hang things and grow things. On my first free Saturday after settling in, I took a drive exploring the surrounding area and stopped at a roadside floral shop. Along the corner of a crowded street, baskets full of flowers stood neatly in rows, like a little army whose sole job was to drive out all the ugliness in the…

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Spatchcock Is A Verb

Spatchcock Is A Verb

So, as it turns out, spatchcock is a verb. Let me back up. In last week’s post, I mentioned that a big, life-altering event had occurred. My very first issue of Southern Living had crossed the threshold of apartment K14, and I became a new woman. A true Southern lady. But receiving the magazine was only part of the transition. In order to fully step into my destiny as a Southern woman, I’d actually have to turn the oven on…

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The Newest Member of the Southern Ladies’ Club

The Newest Member of the Southern Ladies’ Club

Two weeks ago, something big happened. Something major. Life-changing. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you may be thinking, “Yeah, yeah, Elizabeth, we know. You found the laminating machine at work and someone showed you where the good snacks were hidden. Big deal.” And while that is true, and those were VERY BIG DEAL THINGS, this thing is bigger. Better. More spectacular than even the laminating machine. *collective gasp (because how could anything top a laminating machine?)….

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Me and Mom and Amy Sherman Palladino

Me and Mom and Amy Sherman Palladino

Like most of the other Gilmore Girls fans in the world, I am impatiently awaiting the promised revival debuting soon. In preparation for the four new 90-minute “episodes,” I have recently decided to revisit Stars Hollow a little early by going back to the beginning of the iconic series. I didn’t grow up watching the mother-daughter series. I was seven when the show debuted for the first time and much more interested in cartoons and Disney plotlines. The show was cancelled…

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A Moment in Trig

A Moment in Trig

I have never been good at math. What comes easily to brainy mathematicians is about as easy to me as sawing off my own arm with a butter knife. Not easy and certainly not without pain or tears. Which is why, when I was answering the cursory, “What did you do this weekend?” question at work a few Mondays ago, I found myself smiling at the irony in my answer. “What did I do this weekend? Well, I went apartment…

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