Saturday, December 10, 2011
Christmas Cards Come but Once a Year
There are a million reasons why I love Christmas. The music, the presents, the way my dad looks in his favorite holiday sweater. One of my favorite things about Christmas, though, is checking the mail every day and finding a stack of photo cards from friends far and near. This year is no different. Taped around the entryway to our living room (just the way my Mayme did it!) are the bright and smiling faces of folks Jeremy and I hold so dear.Another thing I hold so dear, however, is the idea of finishing - finally! - the wedding-related thank you notes that I still (shame on me) have to write, so instead of adding another stack to my already lengthy list of correspondence to-dos, I've decided to do the unforgivable and go all techno this holiday. Here, in place of a piece of mail, are mine and Jeremy's warmest wishes for a merry Christmas that leaves you thinking, "oh! What fun!" and is full of family, laughter, and love.
And you can look out for an actual "piece of mail" as soon as these thank yous are written ... maybe Valentine's Day or, at the rate I'm going, the Fourth of July!In the meantime, merry Christmas, Y'all!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
the Proof is in the Pictures
Have you ever heard a director say that “99% of good directing is good casting”? In other words, if you hire the right people, your job is easy. Blame it on six zillion years of theatre training, but that’s the mentality I took with me, as I planned our wedding. I knew if I hired the right vendors, I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.
And, as it turns out, I didn’t – worry about a thing, that is. Not surprisingly, that old director’s dictum is right. From the beautiful invitations, thank you notes, and programs created to perfection by Brooke Rainey Designs to spot-on floral arrangements by Adina at Frilly Bloomers, I was THRILLED by (and so grateful for) the work folks did on behalf of me and Jeremy. Add to the paper and flowers a breathtaking big band (Equinox Jazz), incredible cake maker (Kathy & Company), and weather so wonderful it could ONLY have come in answer to a million and a half prayers, and the end result was a day that, in my admittedly biased opinion, could not have been more beautiful. 
Luckily for Jeremy and me, we will never be able to forget it! Another amazing vendor was on tap to capture the entire event. Cristobal and Kathleen Perez, co-owners of Azul Photography, put their Pulitzer Prize-nominated talents to work and produced pictures that make me laugh, cry, and feel like the luckiest girl alive. 
At the risk of being that tacky hostess who makes you look at her vacation photos (though, honestly, since when has THAT stopped me?!), I’m posting a slideshow of some of my favorite shots here. It probably won’t surprise you to know that I’ve already watched it about sixteen thousand times. Each time I see these images, though, I am dumbstruck by the thought that that woman in the white dress in those pictures had absolutely no idea then just how amazing a man she was marrying. Jeremy truly is better than I even imagined.Sweetheart, as Dorothy wrote 81 years before we ever even met, “I know why I’ve waited / know why I’ve been blue / prayed each nite for someone / exactly like you.”
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Seventy Three-Seventy Two...Close for Comfort!
I really wasn't all that worried. Going in to last Saturday's clash between my hue of blue and Jeremy's, I felt pretty confident my Cats would pull it out - after all, did you SEE Carolina against UNLV?! Or how about the way they had to battle from behind to beat the Wisconsin Badgers? Add to that the Cats' clicking defense and a hyper-charged home crowd, and I felt pretty positive about retaining the bragging rights I'd won in the 2011 Elite Eight.
Then came the game. Suddenly, the 'Heels didn't seem to suck as much. Trying to be a good sport, I'd lean over to Jeremy and say, through clenched teeth, stuff like, "Y'all have really taken us out of our offense" or "you can tell they've really been throwing up the threes in practice this week." What I was really doing, however, was buying myself a little good will - hoping that he'd be as kind to me in the aftermath, as I was (trying to be) to him as the battle raged.
For those who've never experienced it, there is a distinct difference between watching a game with a Wildcat and watching one with a Tarheel. This became clear to me early on in our relationship. Jeremy and I were at a NCAA Regional game in Charlotte last March. The 'Heels were playing Washington when I first noticed this disparity between MY people and his. MY people are painted up, jacked up, fired up, voices united, screaming, shouting, slapping hi-fives to strangers one second while cursing a missed free throw the next. 
His people, on the other hand, behave at a ballgame the way most folks do at a classical music concert. We're all t-shirts and cheek tats; they're cashmere and sweater vests, or, as former Florida State baller Sam Cassell put it, they're a real "cheese-and-wine crowd, kind of laid back."
It's that way at home, too. I scream about every possession as if it's our last. "TERRENCE JONES, YOU SUCK" is immediately followed by "Nice shot, TJ. Now RUN THE FLOOR, and DO NOT let Marquis Teague handle the ball!" Jeremy sits, calmly watching while his beloved Tarheels take missed shot after missed shot, and the most rambunctious I have EVER seen him get is when he musters a single, spirited, "Come on, 'Heels" as they start their surge.
It really is phenomenal that two fan bases with equally impressive basketball legacies express their excitement in such drastically different ways, and no where is this difference better expressed than in Danny Nowell's brilliantly-written "Lexington Diary."
Nowell is a Tarheel. Following his passions for basketball and bourbon, Nowell attended last Saturday's game and described it thus, "As the game started, the atmosphere in the building became as electric as any I’ve seen. We in Chapel Hill are as passionate about our Heels, but we carve opponents’ psyches with our condescending dignity; Kentucky concusses you with blunt-force excitement."
And last Saturday's "blunt-force" was as exciting as it gets.
Great game, Baby. We'll see you in April, and when we do, remember all that "good will" I built up at Rupp, okay?
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Happy birthday, Huntybutton!
Mayme & Pop weren't able to make it. Luckily for them, however, Aunta's camera WAS!
For you, Mom & Daddy, here are some shots snapped (and footage filmed) as Lila turned five!
Click here to view these pictures larger
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Go, Big Bluth!
Then again, they probably weren't watching THIS on their iPhone while working out:
One question, though: why was I thinking of GOB Bluth the entire time?
Monday, October 31, 2011
Strange Bedfellows
Yep. That was the plan.
And then, I got a link to this video from my dad.
And then, I felt the need for this.
For those who can't tell, we're dressed like a Kentucky cheerlearder and that certain coach from Chapel Hill. As the above rap reminds us, though, Roy Williams (and Jeremy Pressley) would do well to remember that it's UK that is "number one in wins, King of THE HILL!"
"C-A-T-S! CATS! CATS! CATS!"
"Baby, You're the Greatest!"
If you know anything at all about Jeremy Pressley, then you know that the idea of him expressing - of even FEELING - any type of "To the moon, Alice" sort of angst is absolutely ludicrous. That, of course, makes it all the more adorable that he was willing to give in to my request that he dress up like Ralph Kramden, a character he could not be less like, for our church fall festival.
Our outfits didn't win any awards or anything, but they do give me the opportunity to do two things - tell you "Happy Halloween from the Honeymooners" and tell Jeremy, "Baby, You're the Greatest."
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tin Pan Lizzie
My niece Lizzie Gray and I are alike in a lot of ways. We both like Hello Kitty, mac & cheese, and the color blue. SHE likes Miss Matched socks; I like Miss Matched socks. I took piano lessons as a little girl; she takes piano lessons as a little girl. She plays really well for her age; I ... well, I said we're alike in "a lot" of ways, not in EVERY way.
To remind myself what I might've achieved, if ONLY I'd practiced (sorry, Mom), here is a video of Lizzie Gray (and Sissy - she DID practice. Show off.) playing the offertory at Hampton Park's children's church earlier this summer, as well as some footage of a song that Bess wrote that "doesn't have a name yet."
Watch to the end for a surprise guest.
Monday, September 26, 2011
"Adore"-able Performances
Though it's been almost an entire summer, since I've posted anything new, life in Greenville has gone on. Leslie and I still meet at Cracker Barrel about once a week. Sissy's dog Jessie still INSISTS on licking me, even though there are about 6,000 OTHER people she could be licking, and the kids continue to thrill and amaze me. They are, after all, the Four I Adore.
I most recently adored their work in CJR Productions presentation of Patch the Pirate's Camp Kookawacka Woods. Last year, Camden, Payton, & Lizzie Gray were in CJR's Misterslippi River Race. This year, Lila trod the boards, as well. As you can see by the program pictured above, she was a church camper (truly her mother's daughter). Camden was Eugene, who barfed on the bus en route to camp, and part of the Patch crew. Payton was the well-padded Tubby, and Lizzie Gray was a tick with a fetish for PB&J (truly her aunt's niece).I'm assuming everyone will be as enchanted by their compelling performances as I was.
Am I right, or am I right?
By the way, I'm getting married in 19 days.
So there's that, too ...
Friday, September 23, 2011
Today's Intro to Theatre class
I didn't meet Chris White until 2006.
Though our paths didn't cross before then, they seemed to be running on parallel tracks. He grew up in South Carolina; I grew up in South Carolina. He went to Furman; I went to Furman. He majored in Drama; I majored in Drama. Get the picture?
Even though the rigors of Rhett Bryson's freshman year Drama 11 class almost weeded me out of the major, I eventually did end up with a B.A. in Theatre and, several years later, found myself teaching the subject at Stone Academy. My tenure there followed that of .... guess who: Chris White.
That's how we met.
Though Chris had left Stone for a high school gig, his three children were still enrolled in the school, so I had the privilege of teaching them all in the year between leaving Lexington (UK) and starting in Athens (UGA).
Thus, the parallel lives of Chris and Kristin intersected at last.
Barely acquaintances, I was still always so impressed with the brilliance of Chris's theatrical work. Recently married to a wonderful woman I went to high school with, he continues to do all sorts of great creative stuff, not the least of which is making movies - like this one, which I love.
You will, too.
(playing opposite Chris is Harriet, the younger of his two daughters; according to Chris's wife, Emily, the whole production was a family affair. Stay tuned through the credits for proof.)
GOOD LIFE from Chris White on Vimeo.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
10.14.11: I'm ready!
Well, you're right ... kinda.
I AM ready for October 14th, and I'm SURELY ready for the 15th, but this particular "ready" is actually refering to how excited I am for the coming of the 2011-2012 Kentucky Wildcats basketball season, and the season officially begins at Big Blue Madness on the nite of ... you guessed her, Chester: 10.14.11.
Are YOU ready?
Watch this video, and you will be.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Lucky Girl
Be still my heart.
Incidentally, what I hear whenever Jeremy calls is this: "You can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man. No time to talk."
Indeed, I am a lucky girl.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
"LOTS of Fun with Picture Pages!"
So, I'm kinda, sorta obsessive. I don't tend to just LIKE something; I LOOOOVVEEEEEE it. Music. Theatre. Kentucky Wildcats, and, according to my wedding registry, Fiestaware ("FI-ESSSSS-TA!").
Need I say more?
Another thing that I "LOOOOVVEEEEEE" is taking pictures, so when Daddy suggested that I should make a Shutterfly-style photo album out of my graduation snapshots, I was on that like Rick Pitino on ... nevermind. I'm not even gonna go there.
Here's the final product. Daddy, consider this a "pre-sneakview" before you see the real deal this weekend!
Click here to view this photo book larger
Wish I'D said that!
Check out her incredible perspective on the Casey Anthony verdict.
Mom, you're gonna LOVE this one.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Short Film Friday
Though our paths didn't cross before then, they seemed to be running on parallel tracks. He grew up in South Carolina; I grew up in South Carolina. He went to Furman; I went to Furman. He majored in Drama; I majored in Drama. Get the picture?
Even though the rigors of Rhett Bryson's freshman year Drama 11 class almost weeded me out of the major, I eventually did end up with a B.A. in Theatre and, several years later, found myself teaching the subject at Stone Academy. My tenure there followed that of .... guess who: Chris White.
That's how we met.
Though Chris had left Stone for a high school gig, his three children were still enrolled in the school, so I had the privilege of teaching them all in the year between leaving Lexington (UK) and starting in Athens (UGA).
Thus, the parallel lives of Chris and Kristin intersected at last.
Barely acquaintances, I was still always so impressed with the brilliance of Chris's theatrical work. Recently married to a wonderful woman I went to high school with, he continues to do all sorts of great creative stuff, not the least of which is making movies - like this one, which I love.
You will, too.
(playing opposite Chris is Harriet, the younger of his two daughters; according to Chris's wife, Emily, the whole production was a family affair. Stay tuned through the credits for proof.)
GOOD LIFE from Chris White on Vimeo.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Something to CHOMP on
It's a slippery slope. First, you let yourself fall in love with a Tarheel, and next thing you know, you're driving a "comped" Chrysler and trading a pair of gold pants for a tattoo that says, "I [HEART] JIM TRESSEL."
Well, maybe it's not THAT bad just yet, but I am about to have a little lovefest for a certain Florida Gator. For a Wildcat like myself, I might as well just say, "Laettner is a saint," or "the Devils deserved to win in 1992."
As if.
My point is, I've come a long way, Baby. Outspokenly narrow-minded in my athletic affections, it's no secret that I bleed blue. Royal blue. Still, I can't help but confess that I think (former UF QB) Tim Tebow is just terrific. In fact, my unmitigated support of #15 inpsired me to wear a Gator tat (no gold pants were traded in exchange for this ink) on my cheek to the 2009 SEC Championship game. While I'm not, necessarily, proud of that fact, I am INCREDIBLY proud of the stand that Tebow has taken for his Christian faith. Nowhere did he stand more strongly, perhaps, than on a recent episode of Mike Huckabee's show on Fox News.The cynical side of me whispers, "Yeah, Kristin. This time six months ago, you respected Jim Tressel for all the same reasons. You HAVE to expect that Tebow's gonna end up just like him. The 'faith' he wears is nothing more than a uniform he puts on before leading the team out of the locker room." I hope, and I pray that that's not the case. I hope that Tebow continues to seek God as the Source of his (super human) strength to stand as strongly as he always has, so that if I ever have a son, I can pray, "Please, Father, help him to be as firm in HIS faith as the Gator it's impossible to hate."
Monday, June 6, 2011
"Show me that smile again ..."
I've already alluded to the fact that I'm not a parent. Still, there's something about this article on parenting that I really like. My friend Leslie (ALSO not a parent; cats don't count) emailed it to me, and though I'd typically have seen the words "Parenting 101" in the subject line and deleted it before you can say "How many days 'til football season?" (87, FYI), I somehow read this one and, somehow, found myself relating to it - probably the parts about watching too many Growing Pains reruns and going to "church every Wednesday and twice on every Sunday."Parent or not, check it out here. After you do, come back and post a comment, preferably one describing your most dreamy Mike Seaver memory.
Go.
Friday, June 3, 2011
a day late & a blogger short
Later this summer, Sarah Jessica Parker will star in the film I Don't Know How She Does It. I read the book on which the movie is based. Though it's been a couple of years since then, I can remember several things about it: 1) it's about a woman who manages both a high-powered career and a hectic home life, 2) I was at the beach when I read it, and 3) I REALLY like the design of its cover.But that's all beside the point. The point is that I was noodling on the title of these two works earlier this week, ruminating on the beautiful blogs of women who somehow find time to raise babies, dress spectacularly, and plan once-weekly, Martha Stewart-style playgroups of which they subsequently post step-by-step instructions (complete with magazine-quality photos!) on how to host your own.
All I can say is, "I don't know how she does it" - how THEY do it, these populants of the blogging mama-sphere. Surely, these girls have got ghostwriters; otherwise, how in this world do they find time to be active in their churches and communities, all while keeping the dinner casserole warm and writing six or seven blog entries a day that range in depth from "Being a mom is hard. How do YOU handle it?" to "Jane Claire is wearing this adorable outfit today, so I thought I'd post this picture I took with my iPhone, while we were waiting to take lunch to the little old ladies we visit each week."
More power to 'em. I have to admit, though, that I frequently scroll through the roll of these blogs, most of them belonging to adorable women I've never met, and think, "I don't know how she does it."
Here's what I DO know. I can't do it. There's just me here in my little duplex. My only real responsibilities are sending the rent in on time and making sure that the wastebasket doesn't overflow onto the linoleum floor of my tiny bathroom, yet I can't even find the time to blog about the facts that I finally finished my PhD or that I'M (finally) GETTING MARRIED!!!
I'M GETTING MARRIED!!!!!!!
Just in case you missed it, I'M GETTING MARRIED!!!There are lots of details to share - the Groom-to-Be is Jeremy Pressley. The proposal occurred at Sea Island. The Big Day is October 15 - I'd write about all these things and then some, but I'm currently sidelined with some stuff that's far more important. Right now, for instance, I'm watching a Lee & Grant documentary with my fiance', the history hound.
Fear not, though, Friends. I've hired a mother of six. She's going to write the entire tale ... between cooking five courses for seven of her husband's colleagues and dropping her children at music lessons on opposite sides of town.
Good gravy.
I DON'T know how she does it.
Monday, May 30, 2011
O-H WHY-O?
Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't consider myself a Buckeye fan - my allegiance to the SEC is hardly a SECret, but I have been to the Horseshoe, and it's hard to not respect the ole' "O-H I-O" tradition - even if they did fall (HARD) to my conference of choice in consecutive National Championships and even if Wayne "Woodrow" Hayes did try to make a puree out of Charlie Bauman's voice box.It's sad to me, though, because I thought Tressel was one of the good guys - a purported man of faith, the so-called "Vest" redeemed the red sweater look from the damage done it by Bobby Knight. Tressel seemed to be a class act, a cut above, and I cheered for him even when I cheered against his team.
My opinion slipped, though, when this scandal broke just before the Buck's 2010-2011 bowl game. That Tressel allowed the offending players to take the field shocked me. I expected him to be tough-on-crime, no-nonsense, hard-nosed. I expected him to expect the same character from his players that he seemed to demand from himself.
But as the bad news continued to break in Columbus, it became increasingly clear that, beneath his red, smooth and velvety shell, the head Buck was as nut-ty as the players who sold their memorabilia for free tattooes and, it turns out, maybe a Chrysler or two.
This just makes me so sad - and not just because these misguided kids chose Chryslers. I'm sad to be disappointed by another sports figure. Actually, after scandals involving Tiger Woods and ever how many professional baseball players took steroids (what's the number now?), I expect to be disappointed by sports figures. I don't, though, expect to be disappointed by the guys who pretended to be above board.
And, to me, that is just absolutely sad.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Under da' Sea
Jeremy's camera takes pictures underwater.
Underwater.
Pictures.
How have I lived this long without such capabilities?
Here are a few of my other favorite photos from a fantastic trip:
Lizzie Gray took this one.
Here's Lila's try at the same shot. I love them both.
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