All other ground is sinking sand.

Once upon a time there was a girl. This girl was seventeen years old and a senior in high school. Her weekly schedule consisted of attending her prestigious private school (dressed from head-to-toe in her wannabe hipster Urban Outfitters attire) from about eight-oh-five am (she was always a few minutes late, but her economics teacher never seemed to care) til about three o'clock (school ended at two-forty, but she would almost always spend at least ten or fifteen minutes in the parking lot with her friends, catching up on each other's days). This girl would then drive her sister home, but not until after they had stopped by McAlister's Deli, the not-so-hot spot in Birmingham, Al, for sweet tea and chocolate chip cookies. This girl would then study for a couple hours, run, and then head right back up to the school for rehearsal for whatever play the drama department was currently perfecting, and in which she was always the star. Her weekends were filled with sleepovers, football games, catching predators, and trips to Doodles, which was the slightly hotter hangout for Bham high schoolers.

Then this girl turned eighteen and went to college.

This girl was not naive. She had known that college would be hard. She had foreseen the difficulties of saying goodbye to her best friends of twelve years, of giving up her private school fairytale lifestyle, of wearing tshirts and shorts to class instead of skirts and heels, of stepping down from the Barbara B Barker stage and relinquishing the spotlight to her younger friends. But she hadn't realized that her worth came from these worthless things.

You can guess where I'm going with this.

This weekend I went home to see my high school's fall musical. I had been looking forward to it all week. I was the biggest drama geek in high school: skipping class to hang out with my friends in the green room, singing duets on the stage "just because," eating all of my meals in the auditorium instead of going home. I loved planning my daily schedule around the times posted on the callboard, of course allotting for time that I would spend after rehearsal hanging out in the parking lot behind the auditorium. I loved the feeling that performing gave me; it was a wonderful, self-glorifying rush, singing on that stage, and nothing else could make me feel that way. Then I went to college, and I began performing on a much larger stage, but in a much smaller way.

This year, I'm not going to rehearsals every night. I'm not performing in shows. I'm not sitting next to my best friends during class who will clap for me when I get a good grade on a test or give me a hug when I don't. I don't have friends to compliment my carefully planned outfits every day because I'm wearing tshirts and nike shorts and Chacos just like every sorority girl on the planet. And instead of eating lunch at the same table with the same girls in the same gym that I've been in since I was twelve, I'm eating at a sorority house with 75 other girls that I still don't know all the names of, even though bid day was almost three months ago.

I'm starting completely from scratch. I'm redefining my life. The foundation that I spent twelve years building...? Not so solid. It crumbled, as it should have. I'm not meant to be in one place forever. No one is.

I've had to redefine my life in college in a big way. And in four years, when I graduate, I'll have to build another life from nothing all over again. And again when I get a job. Or move. Or get married. My life, from this point on, is never going to stop changing.

I've realized recently that maybe, had I not been so wrapped up in these meaningless things, my transition to college would have been much easier. Had I not defined myself by the group of girls that I met with after third period every day, had I not found my identity in the amount of time I spent in the auditorium, had I not placed so much importance on what outfit I was going to wear to school the next day... 

These things were idols. If they hadn't have been, I wouldn't miss them so much. I filled my life with these things that I believed were truly fulfilling. But, the truth is, while these things might be wonderful, they don't last forever. They don't even last nearly as long as we would wish for them to. And that is a difficult pill to swallow. Friends will disappoint you, possessions will turn to dust, and talents will fade away.

But something that never disappoints, disintegrates, or fades, is the love of Christ. Which is why our identity is found in Him and only Him. If we attempt to place our trust or define ourselves in anything else, we'll find ourselves lost and disillusioned the next time we're forced to start over. So, the only option is to lean on Jesus. Everything else... well, it's sinking sand.

"Truly my soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him. Truly He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress, I will never be shaken." 

Psalm 62:1-2

Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who only dream by night.

-Edgar Allan Poe

Have a holly jolly Christmas.

It's the best time of the year.

I've never been one to go all out on holidays. I love Christmas decorations and driving around looking at lights. I like to give and receive gifts on Christmas morning. And most of all, I like to wear scarves and boots and drink hot beverages. But it's never been this huge to-do for me.

I don't know why. I wish there was some deep introspective reason as to why I'm a big of a Scrooge, but, sorry, I have no excuse.

But never fear, friends, because those days of Grinch-dom are over at last.

It all started at the beginning of this month. I've always considered myself to be a summertime gal through and through, but for some reason fall really captured my attention this year (as stated by my last post). So, of course, the day that the leaves started to turn and the temperature started to drop, I began to celebrate Halloween. I forced a bunch of my friends to visit the local "pumpkin patch" with me (aka sketchy produce store in the middle of nowhere), made a midnight trip to a haunted graveyard, bought candy-corn shaped Christmas lights to decorate our dorm room, and put stick-on letters that spell HALLOWEEN on our door. I crammed everything that one should do during the month of October into one weekend, which I guess is the reason that I hurried merrily along to Christmas so quickly (Some might be angry that I skipped right over Thanksgiving, but honestly, all we do on Thanksgiving is eat a lot and watch football, and I do that anyways).

There are, however, a few more reasons that I'm in the Christmas spirit a bit more this year than in years past.

1. Sufjan Stevens Christmas Album- It's great, y'all. I'm all about some chill, obscure Christmas music, and this one takes the cake. It really does. It's praise to Christ's incarnation at its most raw and touching. Sufjan just has such a pretty voice, and it's complimented so well by the acoustic instruments that accompany him on the tracks. Even though it's generally Christmas music, it also has some hymns on it, thus making this cd acceptable year round.

2. My awesome new BIG, Shelly Johnston! I feel like she deserves a shout-out on here since she practically stalked me to find out that my blog even existed. We finally found out who our big sisters were for Chi-O last night, and after all the excitement died down, she and her roommate showed us their super cute room, which is totally decked out for CHRISTMAS!!!

And in addition to this Christmas atmosphere, Judy Garland was playing in the background. Have yourself a merry little Christmas, indeed.

3. Home. Home home home. This is the main symptom of my Christmas disease. There really is "no place like home for the holidays." It's such a cheery atmosphere during the winter. I love drinking hot chocolate after being outside and I love not feeling like a slob when I watch movies all day long, an activity that is only acceptable during Christmas break. I love eating and sleeping too much. I love Christmas shopping at the Summit with my friends. Most of all, though, I love spending time with my family; I love that automatic connection that seems to bind all families together this time of year.

Pretty much the Rockettes.

And of course, there is just no place as beautiful as Birmingham, Alabama during December. That really doesn't even bear mentioning.

We like to think we're cool in bham. This is practically Times Square.

My favorite place to be at Christmastime.

Only 65 days to go, people. You'd better be good, because he sees you when you're sleeping and knows when you're awake.

Clumsy Kim.

Ode to beauty.

God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. Genesis 1:31

Something that I have learned since coming to college is how to appreciate simple things. I've always thought that I was a somewhat simple girl (alliteration... what what??), but now, looking back, I have never been as, shall we say, chill as I am now. Not to say that I'm not busy, because I am, but I do have a lot of time to myself. A lot. Which can be good, and it can be bad. I'm lonely sometimes, but the times that I am lonesome, I turn to God instead of my millions and trillions of new friends. Which is a blessing. The Lord has a funny way of working things out, don't you think? It's beautiful to think about where I was this time last year. And what's even more beautiful is what I have become this year. Not to say that I'm perfect now, but I am growing. And changing. And learning and loving and appreciating. 

All of this goes to say, it's a beautiful life that we live. Especially this time of year. Starkville, Mississippi is brilliant in the fall. It really has been one of those weeks where I have walked around grinning from ear to ear. I was literally singing hymns on my way to the Chi O house Wednesday. Nothing can bring me off this autumn cloud I'm on, and anyone that tries to will be met with a goofy smile.

So this is an ode to beauty. And a hope that maybe my new appreciation of the little pieces of simplicity that color this time of year will cause you to open your eyes just a little bit wider so that you too can get a better view of the big picture.

Simple, beautiful things:

1. Going to the laundry room to get your clothes that you left drying and discovering that they are folded and placed neatly in your laundry bag:

This is just a snapshot of the nice things people have done for me since being in college. I'm telling you, nice people attend Mississippi State University.

2. Trinkets... journals, magnets, postcards, candles

3. Sweet new friends

4. Blue, cloudless skies

5. Soft, green grass

6. Color

7. Friends that bring you chicken noodle soup and carbonated water that you just met two months ago but already know you so so well.

8. Having friends in my sorority

9. Having friends in different sororities

10. Having time

11. Writing letters

12. Boys making sure that girls have a seat on the shuttle before they get on themselves.

13. Realizing that God knows so much more than you do and accepting that gorgeous truth.

"To God be the glory, great things he hath done."

Surely then you will lift up your face without blemish; you will be secure and will not fear.
You will forget your misery; you will remember it as waters that have passed away.
And your life will be brighter than the noonday; it's darkness will be like the morning.
And you will feel secure, because there is hope.
You will look around and take rest in security.
You will lie down, and none will make you afraid...

Love me indie, love me sweet.

We've all been there... we've all seen that couple roaming downtown, holding hands, wearing fedoras and Mary Jane's and Converse. The effortless beauty and simplicity of an indie couple. And we've all felt envious of that sort of love, raw and artistic. 

Or maybe that's just me and my wannabe indie friends.


This weekend I bought the Weepies cd Say I Am You. I know, it's been out there in the musical ether for a while. It was only a matter of time before I bought a full album by them. I've always thought that Deb had a cute and catchy voice, but I didn't really fall in love with her before I found out who she was in love with... her band mate! Who is the same person as her husband!


Guys. That is presh.


As put by vibetothis.com...
Love & Music - truly two beautiful things -- no???  There seems to be an appreciable fusion of these two going on in the scene today -- that remarkable event where two banjo-loving heterosexual hipsters hit it off in just the right way and start creating something nice.  


I seriously considered just copying and pasting that into this post and taking complete credit for this witty statement, but my conscience proved otherwise. It just hits the nail on the head.


So why not pay tribute to these indie couples? Let's give a round of applause to theses unsung heroes, not only of indie music, but of indie romances.


1. The Weepies: Like I said, they're adorable. Click here to go to their website and then click about to see their one-of-a-kind indie love story and then tell me that you're not jealous. See? You are. Jealousy.

And a song...

2. Zooey Deschanel and Ben Gibbard: Alright, so I didn't exactly know that these two were married til the other day. I was under the common misconception that she is married to her bandmate, M. Ward. False. But the truth is even better. She's married to Ben Gibbard. As in, Death Cab for Cutie Ben Gibbard. As in, one of the best songwriters of our time.

3. Marcus Mumford and Carey Mulligan: The only reason I found out about this couple is because I googled if Marcus Mumford was single. No lie. I have the biggest crush on him ever. But, you know, if I were to give him up to one woman, it would be Carey (or Laura Marling, his ex). You know her, you love her. That's a match made in heaven if I ever saw one. 

And this song... I hope that my hipster hubbie will one day sing it for me. 

Those are the ones that stick out in my mind. Any other hipster lovers that are blog-worthy?


Clumzzzzz.

Richard Brautigan.

I was trying to describe you to someone a few days ago. You don't look like any girl I've ever seen before.

I couldn't say "Well she looks just like Jane Fonda, except that she's got red hair, and her mouth is different and of course, she's not a movie star..."

I couldn't say that because you dont look like Jane Fonda at all.

I finally ended up describing you as a movie I saw when I was a child in Tacoma Washington. I guess I saw it in 1941 or 42, somewhere in there. I think I was seven, or eight, or six.

It was a movie about rural electrification, a perfect 1930's New Deal morality kind of movie to show kids. The movie was about farmers living in the country without electricity. They had to use lanterns to see by at night, for sewing and reading, and they didn't have any appliances like toasters or washing machines, and they couldn't listen to the radio. They built a dam with big electric generators and they put poles across the countryside and strung wire over fields and pastures.

There was an incredible heroic dimension that came from the simple putting up of poles for the wires to travel along. They looked ancient and modern at the same time. 

Then the movie showed electricity like a young Greek god, coming to the farmer to take away forever the dark ways of his life. Suddenly, religiously, with the throwing of a switch, the farmer had electric lights to see by when he milked his cows in the early black winter mornings. The farmer's family got to listen to the radio and have a toaster and lots of bright lights to sew dresses and read the newspaper by.

It was really a fantastic movie and excited me like listening to the Star Spangled Banner, or seeing photographs of President Roosevelt, or hearing him on the radio "... the President of the United States... "

I wanted electricity to go everywhere in the world. I wanted all the farmers in the world to be able to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio....

And that's how you look to me.