I have made mistakes

Stumbled upon this song today and it has been on repeat ever since. If I had to choose a soundtrack to my life, this song would most likely represent my high school years, or at least one of them. Just listen to it. You won't regret it, I promise. 

Home away from home

I feel as if it has been AGES since I wrote to you last. Twelve days ago seems like an eternity. And I guess it would be to someone (me) who initially planned to blog at least three times a week. Clearly, I have some work to do as far as that is concerned.

Antyways! I am thoroughly enjoying my stay in Charlotte. I have become a little more dare-devilish than I was when I first arrived. When I say "dare-devilish" I mean I drove to the South Park Mall all on my own. And I took a trip to my new favorite place to be, Amelie's.

Imagine in your mind a perfect display of french pastries. Now add into the mix a plethora of authentic paintings and sources of light all combined into a space the size of four or five living rooms combined. (I am dimensionally challenged, hence the reason for my peculiar comparison.) Oh and it is open 24 hours a day. Jennie says that it is the hangout of the cool, hipster musicians who need a place to go after their shows in the wee hours of the morning. I have yet to visit at 2am though.

Amelie's is one of the many places in Charlotte I am sure that I will grow to love just as I loved the unique assets of Beaufort. Much to my parents dismay, this place is starting to feel more and more like home. It didn't take long at all for me to get comfortable with my surroundings and the…. so-to-say 'different' individuals around me. I no longer feel the need to use my GPS when commuting to the gym or the grocery store. Nick and Jennie may have to shove me out along with all my things at the end of the summer. Mom and Dad might have to drag me out by my feet. Can't I just skip the intricate formulas and equations of my last year of high school and graduate in June? I don't see a problem with that at all.

The Charlotte Chapter

(Insert cliche skyline picture here)

Day 4

I’m sure most of you are wondering why it has taken me so long to document my first few days in the lovely Charlotte, NC. Clearly my counting of days starts at four instead of one. (I promise I can count.) It is not due to the fact that I have been busy every second since I arrived or that I did not want to write. It is simply because I have little to say. That sounds like a bad thing. But it is actually very good. This place that I get the privilege of calling home for the next seven weeks has left me at a loss for words. Until now!

I have spent the last four days doing my best to take all of this in. Yes, I have visited Charlotte many times before. However, my trips never lasted more than a mere seven days. In the past that has been just enough time for me to make many trips to my favorite place, Yoforia, take a much-needed trip to the South Park mall, and participate in a few third-wheeling Netflix movie nights with one of my favorite couples. But not this time around! I am here for a whopping seven weeks. That gives me plenty of time to explore, experience the city life, drive my brother-in-law crazy, meet some cool people, and maybe even focus on what the heck I want to do with the rest of my life. As of right now, I have no idea. I’ll get there. Eventually.

It seems as though everything here is…. cooler. The smell of the fresh rain on the pavement is much more appealing than it is in Beaufort. (By the way, it did rain the day I came here. Hmmm, wonder what that means?) Although a symbol for tragedy, the ringing siren of a speeding ambulance is 10x more euphonious than it is back home. I know that is terrible to say, but I’m just being honest. Red lights here are so much more entertaining. They become a window into the lives of complete strangers. I am referring to the not-so-secretive nose-pickers, dashboard drummers, screaming children, and those girls who forget that their windows are rolled down as they sing at the top of their lungs to the song that is playing on the radio. Those are the kind of people I’m talking about. And they are all part of the beautiful chaos that I speak so fondly of these days.  

Obviously I am getting some quality time with three of my favorite human beings. I know I say that people are my favorites a lot, but they really are. Getting to wake up to Everly’s sweet face every morning ensures the fact that I will NEVER be able to be in a sour mood while I am here. Getting to laugh and just spend time with my sister, Jennie has really enabled our relationship to grow. I’m not saying that it has ever been bad, cause it hasn’t. It has just been taken to a greater level. Every stream of words that flows out of Nick’s mouth is well thought and almost always hilarious. He is just that awesome. Basically what I am trying to say is that of all people I could choose to spend my summer with, I choose them. There is no other way to put it.

Looking back, I realize that I may have been a bit dramatic when saying goodbye to Beaufort for the summer. But I’m not sure you realize what a big step this is for me. Most of my goodbyes were to people I didn’t want to say goodbye to and some of them I never actually did. I have left behind all I’ve ever known for a place and people that I’ve never known. That’s the exciting part! I don’t know where I am going when I take three rights and two lefts. I don’t know the people that ride past me when I am enjoying the swing on the front porch. I don’t know the cashier working at the grocery store. But I assure you that by the end of the summer I will. I will know all of their names and probably their dog’s name too.

Here’s to seven weeks filled with spontaneous moments and new friends. Skyscraper-lit strolls through Uptown and even more Netflix movie nights. Mid-day naps with Everly by my side and hysterical games of “Heads-Up” after dinner. Here’s to the next 41 days that will always be remembered as the summer I lived in Charlotte, NC. 

4..3..2..1..

And so it begins! The boxing up and packing of my wardrobe for my trek to Charlotte, North Carolina for the duration of summer 2013. Words cannot describe the electrifying excitement that is running through my veins. I understand that the last statement might be a little over the top. But hey, I am just being honest. 

If you see me on a daily basis, or if you have talked to me in the past couple months you would already know that this trip is all I have been talking about for the past 90 days. I am headed off to a big city to live with my sister, her husband, and their incredibly adorable daughter, Everly. Who wouldn't be excited for that? Not only do I get to spend every waking moment with the most angelic and enjoyable child on God's green earth, but I get to experience the beautiful chaos and bright lights of the city. I must also discuss the fact that my sister is amazing for offering to let me stay for a whopping two months. Numerically, that really isn't that long. But when you add a fairly new child, an energetic golden doodle, a working husband, and tight quarters into the mix, things tend to get a little complicated. She is even giving up her closet for me! And for a girl with an abundance of scarves and shoes, that is a lot to ask. That alone should shed a little light on what an incredible sister I have and how lucky I am to have shared a last name with her at one moment in time. 

Just four days left in this little town that I have grown a very strong love/hate relationship with over the past few years. That is 96 hours, 5,760 minutes, and 345,600 seconds. Not that I am counting or anything. The change of scenery and new people will be exactly what I have needed to get my head back on straight before I dive headfirst into my senior year. (Yes, I am officially a senior, as of today!!) So bring it on Charlotte. I'm ready for some skyline sunsets and rush-hour traffic. Don't go easy on me. Please and thank you. 

Jennie Louise Turbyfill Boltin

Hello again. Lately I have had much to say. Unfortunately, my abundance of words is due to sadness and a certain flood gate of emotions that has been opened. I wish it could be under different circumstances. But they are thoughts nonetheless. Thoughts that I wish to share with you because they concern people that you deserve to learn about and hopefully understand the impact they had on my life.

Meet Jennie Louise Turbyfill Boltin, born in Columbia, South Carolina 91 years ago. She was the daughter of the late Arthur and Lottie O. Parr Turbyfill. Nana grew up alongside the Great Depression, WWII, the Cold War, Vietnam, and many more history book happenings. She welcomed in a new century, the 21st century. She left soft, yet evident fingerprints on the lives of her five siblings, two children, ten grandchildren, eighteen great-grandchildren, eight great-great-grandchildren, and any other human being that she came in contact with.

I am fortunate enough to have been one of those eighteen great-grandchildren on the receiving end of her unconditional love. She was present at every Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner that I can remember and always responsible for the perfectly cut, Honey-baked Ham placed in the middle of the table. She never missed a birthday. She noticed every new freckle that landed on my nose. I could always count on a good back-scratch if I was ever in a room with her for more than five minutes. (If you know me, you know that back scratches are my favorite thing on this planet.) All of these things may seem like small, insignificant things to someone who never knew my Nana. But you are very wrong. These were all puzzle pieces (she loved puzzles too) that when fit together, showcased an extravagant woman who left a trail of Pound cake and great wisdom wherever she chose to go. 

My last days with Nana were very memorable. It was in the guest room of my Granny's house in Yemassee that I watched her drift off into a state of eternal happiness. That may sound depressing and you are probably wondering why anyone would want to remember their loved one's like that. But she was still the same ole Nana. She still wanted her head full of luscious, stark-white hair to be scratched and she wanted to be surrounded by those she loved at all times. One of my favorite things to do was to hold her hands. I am not exaggerating when I say that they were the softest hands I have ever felt. Ask any one of my family members and they would agree with me. I dare you. They were hands that had provided for her family, mended broken hearts, written love letters, and planted seeds in the lives of those surrounding her that would at some point, germinate and leave a life-long impact of some kind. Of course it was difficult to see her in an unimaginable amount of pain and it was even harder to admit to myself that there was nothing I could do to make it subside. But I was also excited for her at the same time. For in a short amount of time, she would be reunited with Poppy. Her soulmate. Her last name sake. And although my eyes fill with tears every time I think about the fact that the oldest member of our family and the one responsible for holding us together most of the time is no longer with us, I know that Poppy must be overjoyed to hold her in his arms again. 

I will see you again soon Nana. Pinky Promise. Make room for all of us up there and make sure to share your Pound cake. They deserve a little slice of heaven too. I love you to the moon and back.