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.
Snappy shots
On the one hand, it's a good thing - I'm not distracted on vacations by thoughts of, "I've got to go back to the room early, so I can post these! My friends ... most of whom I haven't seen in 16 years and wouldn't know if I saw them on the street ... are expecting them!" On the other hand, though, it's sad not to be able to read through the generally witty, miscellaneous comments posted below my family's snapshots.
That to say, please have a look at these family snapshots and leave some miscellaneous comments.
The "generally witty" part is COMPLETELY optional.
Click here to view these pictures larger
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)