Posts Tagged ‘shambles’

On a sadder note, I feel that I need to commemorate the notable passing of a visible figure in my life recently.  My beloved Pimp Chalice, given to me on the occasion of my twenty-first year, met its untimely end this weekend at approximately 1:32 p.m. on October 10th in Chapel Hill, Tennessee.  Cause of death was determined to be a combination of Very Hard Tile Floor and Erin Being Shambulously Clumsy As Always.  Pimp Chalice left behind a litany of memories that were fuzzy at best but no less enjoyable at the time.  It was preceded in its journey to the Big Celestial Dumpster by its dear companion, Sippy Straw.  An intimate memorial and internment ceremony was held at the trashcans behind the conference lodge at Henry Horton State Park.

Pictured: Erin, Gabby, Pimp Chalice.  In happier times.

Pictured: Erin, Gabby, Pimp Chalice. Happier times.

Pimp on in peace, my friend.


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If I had to sum up my senior year so far in three letters, it would go something like this: AS-fuckin-B.

For the uninitiated, ASB is Alternative Spring Break.  It started at Vanderbilt and is exactly what it sounds like–sending students around the country to do service trips during a week that is typically considered a hallmark of hedonism and college-age shenanigans–and, naturally, so much more.

At the core of Vanderbilt ASB, one of the largest and best-run programs of its kind in the nation, are a dozen unusually dedicated and possibly deranged (in a good way) ASBers: the ASB executive board.  It’s an honor Emma and I can both put on our List of Things We Did in College that Kind of Ruled.

My role this year is Public Relations Co-Chair.  I can say with authority that it has been one of the hardest things I’ve done at Vanderbilt in that it’s required more sacrifice than anything I’ve taken on while at school, with the obvious return of being incredibly satisfying.

And I get to make some kickass stuff that’s going all over campus.

We made this Office-themed video for the annual Site Leader Retreat.  I shot and edited it in one night and had it up by the next morning…why I felt like that was more important than sleep, I have no idea.  Still, the montage during the opening titles makes my heart want to explode with joy.

Front of the t-shirts I designed for the year.  They look sweet on.

Front of the t-shirts I designed for the year. They look sweet on.

And the back.

And the back.

This week has been a blur of scheduling PR events, getting ready for the retreat, running around campus hustling Participant Applications to unsuspecting students, and perfecting the art of mass-emailing on my iPhone while walking and dodging traffic.  I’m exhausted and probably going to get cancer for the amount of crap I ingested this week while on the go.  I’m also totally blissed out–I love this job.  Still, finally having a week that doesn’t start with me jolting awake and cursing like a sailor with unresolved anger management issues before I’ve even brushed my teeth will be a nice departure from the norm.

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If you find yourself at the National Storytelling Festival, and the first act you plan to see one day is Donald Davis, make sure you get there early.  Really, really early.  Emma and I learned this the hard way this morning, when we showed up to the Courthouse Tent at 9:30 for the 10:00 show only to find that it was standing-room only.

After a bit of wandering and a bit more grumbling, however, I discovered the grassy embankment behind the tent.  No view of the stage, of course, but the sound was excellent, and there was something about being in this small town that brought out the mischevous streak that seems to run through anybody who grew up in a place where making your own fun was a rite of passage.

And if anybody knows about creating your own fun and getting into trouble, it’s Don Davis.

I won’t attempt to do his stories justice because it just isn’t right.  But suffice it to say–he will make you want to pressure your parents into telling you all the dirty details of the really stupid stuff they got up to in high school.  I know I looked over at Emma–twice, at least–during Davis’s hour and mouthed “My mom/dad did that once!”

Other highlights of the day:

  • Learning the backup vocals to “Build Me Up Buttercup” with Bill Harley.  Then singing them.
  • Blowing bubbles as the train passed by during Gay Ducey’s segment.
  • More fascinating interviews with Festival attendees for The Heritage Foundation and the Library of Congress
  • Getting sufficiently creeped out by inanimate objects thanks to ghost stories at the Gazebo
  • Exploring the shops that line the main street in Jonesborough, and trying out some fabulous headwear (pictures included):

IMG_0180 IMG_0181

Tomorrow’s half-day will feature more interviews and the universal life lessons of Sacred Tellings, which I personally am looking incredibly forward to.  And as much as I’d love to reflect more on what I’ve seen thus far, Emma has just informed me that the hotel room smoke detector is going off and the room may or may not smell like burnt toast…I may need to go diffuse a situation.

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