Savannah Trip - Part Two!

The next morning, after sleepily crawling downstairs to the continental breakfast, accidentally almost setting the toaster on fire (How was I supposed to know that you can't put a whole bagel in those open faced toasters?!) and knocking over the serving spoons (I blame my clumsiness on the Diabetes) I scurried back to the room and Josh and I got all our day stuff together to go to Tybee Island.

Note to self: DO NOT WAIT UNTIL GETTING TO THE BEACH TO PUT TANNING OIL OR SUNSCREEN ON. The design of your shirt will be seared onto your body if you are fair-skinned.

Joshua and I loaded our bags with towels, drinks, 4 different "in case of low" snacks, suntan oil, and changes of clothes. The drive to Tybee took about 40 minutes and was pretty stop-and-go. There was a lot of traffic, but I had to admit it was pretty picturesque to see the marshes and the gorgeous blue sky - especially after days of rain back in Macon.

When we got to Tybee we were greeted, as my grandma stated quite literally, by "the land of the endless parking meters". We drove for at least an hour trying to find parking, failed, and had to drive about 1-2 miles out to the post office just to find an empty space. On the bright side, we were treated to the tour of local houses and hangouts... on the bad side, gas was $3.30. And we didn't escape the lengthy sojourn to the beach once we parked either... then, the hike began. Part of me thinks the 12 miles hike up the mountain that year at Summer camp was easier. We could only carry the necessities in my purse, and we kept walking, and walking, and walking, trying to tell ourselves that lunch and the beach was "right around the next corner", or the next, the next, the next.... there were no shady trees, no soothing bird tweets, no trickling creeks. Oh no. Pavement, searing sunlight, traffic, and don't forget those parking meters.

Suddenly all of me shook, and I tested, blearily seeing the 36 mg/dL on the screen, peeling away the granola bar wrapper, eating it in about 1.5 bites and stumbling on, leaning on Josh for support. The cognitive thought in my head faded, replaced by zombie-mode. My "beach, beach, beach" chant echoing in my head soon turned into "lunch, lunch, lunch", and it must have been thirty minutes later - but really felt like two hours in "Tybee time" and a miniature downpour - that we finally made it to a restaurant. I told Josh, out of desperation, that I would literally eat at the first restaurant I saw that was at least semi-reputable looking. So we ate there. I don't remember the name, I remember it being overpriced and tiled like my old house back in Sanford, but the food was pretty OK and it did the trick. I didn't feel shaky anymore, probably because I ordered a salad and ended up eating half of Josh's steak fries when I tested and saw that I was still at 50, and we proceeded on towards the beach from there. As soon as we reached the sand we shed our shoes and set out under the pier and to our left in order to find a less overcrowded plot of sand on which to lay our bag.

So far our trip seems like it might have been miserable, but don't get me wrong. The moment my feet touched the sand, it was all totally worth it.

We found a place, which was amazing considering Tybee was the most crowded beach I'd ever seen (I guess in FL we have a lot larger of a choice), and we wasted no time in shedding our shirts and pants and running to the water. The water was incredible! It was warm, and salty, and pure perfection. Back at home it always seemed like the water was too cold (I'm a wimp when it comes to cold water, yeah), but here it was just right. Like, wow. Josh and I laughed and ran and tripped and dove into the waves, swimming out and making a game of leaping over the waves as they charged toward us, threatening to drag us back towards shore and sometimes sending us tumbling underwater and scrambling to hold onto our bottoms. The day passed away while we screamed and paddled and vigilantly watched our bag from the water, and I felt like a little kid again.

When we had swallowed enough salt water to pickle us, we breaked for a good half hour in the sand, digging sandcastles with our bare hands and haphazardly remembering to apply some bit of tanning oil (mistake, mistake, mistake). Halfway before building the pyramid of giza-great moat of China hybrid, we decided to run back into the water and played in the waves more before packing up our things once again and starting the hike back to the car. And an uncomfortable hike it was! I had been spoiled from years of seeing showers to bathe in on the beach docks, and there was not a shower to be found anywhere on Tybee. No lie, Josh and I both would have probably paid for a shower and we were seriously considering foregoing the consequences of using someone's hose in order to avoid the sandy, salt-sticky walk back.
When we were almost there, we stopped in a beach store to enjoy the AC and grab some fresh T-Shirts, and Josh went ahead of me to get the car. I caught glimpse of myself in a mirror and to my not-so-surprised horror saw that I was unevenly sunburned. By that I mean, the mother of all sunburns. As in, I was wearing a crochet top and the design of the crochet was burned into my skin. In short, my skin somewhat resembled a doily. Le sigh. I can't get a pretty tan for the life of me.

We began the long sojourn back, stopping at Sonic for some mega-huge drinks before going back to the hotel, where we freshened up, complained about our sunburns, applied aloe, repeated the word "ouch" a lot, and finally crawled painfully back into the truck, with our tender red skin, to go back into the city and get some dinner. It took forever... we drove around again for an hour looking for parking, as apparently Savannah on a Saturday night was THE place to be. But we got some great views of the city that we had missed Friday. We saw more churches, town squares, Paula Dean's restaurant, theatres...it was stunning to see the eclectic mix of old and new, and the ever-constant thrum of pure life that pulsed like a heartbeat throughout the city. People were everywhere, tourists, locals, dressed-to-the-tee's, photographers, hipsters, rednecks. I loved it all and took in every moment of it.

When we finally did hunt down a spot next to a cozy looking cafe by the intersection of Hull and Bull Street (easy to remember), we walked around for a good while, and couldn't seem to decide where to eat. We actually just ended up eating at the same place we had for lunch the first day because we thought it was so good! I was ravenous - we ate nachos and queso, Josh had another parmesan chimichanga (we aren't creatures of habit at all...), and I had a huge serving of chicken, my fries replaced with veggies. BG had held pretty steady since the beach and I was cruising at around 150, but was careful to give myself plenty of insulin to cover the chips so as to try and not get off track. After dinner, we walked down River Street again, spent some time listening to another one of the 4th of July bands until the bugs ate at us too much, and then journeyed back across Bay Street and onwards to check out the squares we had missed earlier.

It was fantastic --- we looked at booths full of beautiful things for sale, witnessed a proposal in the middle of a streetside concert, and I happily dragged Joshua back into a Candy Shop (conveniently enough they were all over Savannah!) to indulge in a treat of my choosing. I was literally as happy as a kid in a... well, candy store! (What is it about candy that makes people so... happy?) I had such a hard time choosing what I wanted! This was such a treat for me --- I told myself that, for tonight, I could pick anything I wanted, no blood sugar-strings attached. Tonight, I was just Lacy. Not Diabetic Lacy. Just me.

Josh picked a candy apple, and I ended up picking a single piece of Butterfinger Bark. I carried it like a treasure through the streets of Savannah, until we got back to the car. It was drizzling lightly, but instead of being annoying I felt as though the mist added yet another tinge of magic to this magical, magical city. As we drove back to the hotel, I closed my eyes and tried a piece of my candy, which melted on my tongue in the most amazing burst of flavor. The day in the sun, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the joy of today, and even the Butterfinger Bark...

It took me away from life and from the everyday, from the ins and outs, the drags of Diabetes, everything -
Nevermind the insulin pen in my stomach as I dutifully bolused. In that moment, it was Joshua and I, and we weren't sad with troubles, or weighed down from the world, I wasn't Diabetic -

No. We were simply, truly, oh so very, very happy, and it is a memory I will treasure always. 

2 Years! (In Other Words, the Most Original Title Ever)

Well, if you didn't already know from Facebook, I'm reiterating again to say that today Joshua and I celebrate two years together. And what a wonderful two years it has been! Three and a half years of knowing him from hundreds of miles away has not been easy. But despite the distance and whatever the odds against us, I feel that our relationship has never failed to grow. I can marvel now at how perfect God's timing was when he put Joshua in my life - he came just when I needed him most, during some of the most difficult and trying times of my life. Joshua helped me through, showing me hope and light even in seemingly dark times. And, of course, it's not just the hard times in life that Joshua's been there for - it's the best times, too! Countless visits during School Breaks, VSO, Thanksgivings and New Year's kisses will forever be some of the fondest memories that I possess. Joshua and I's relationship is the first and only that I've ever been in, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I couldn't imagine being blessed with anyone more perfect for me than he is. Joshua may be lucky to have a girlfriend who bakes excellent cookies, but I am the truly lucky one! Happy 2-Year Anniversary to the most wonderful man in my life!

Once Upon a Fall Break

Even in my third year as a college student I have always found that there is nothing quite like the anticipation of an impending break. Last day of classes, finishing up tests and homework, packing for mini-vacations - it all finds a way to make me happy quite unlike anything else can. Friday was one of those such days. It was the last day of classes before break and I had promised to volunteer for the annual Collegiate Golf Tournament at the Brickyard at Riverside Golf Course in Macon. I was bypassing Organic Chemistry to do so but excited to get off-campus and have a change of scenery. The only bad side was...

I woke up at an uncomfortably early, and dark, hour of 5:15 AM to be at the course by 6:30. I am not a morning person. I was so thankful for my Keurig as I painlessly popped a K-Cup into the machine and was greeted by the smell of warm, toasty coffee in less than a minute. My warm shower woke me up at least enough for me to be able to exit morning-zombie mode. I had been promised breakfast at the golf course for my efforts but downed a chocolate rice cake before leaving to stave off the lingering low I had woken up with. I then exited the dorms to climb into my car. It was dark and chilly outside. The sun had yet to rise. Khakis were required and all I had were a pair of khaki capris; I was worried jackets weren't allowed, so I hadn't thought to bring something warm. I don't know what I was thinking - correction, I wasn't thinking.

After driving around aimlessly in the dark I finally found the golf course off of Riverside Drive. I parked in volunteer parking and stepped out of the car, wrapping my light jacket tighter around me. I cursed the weather. YEP. This isn't Florida anymore!!! My head screamed as I shivered on cue. I walked over to volunteer check-in only to find, to my dismay, that it was located at the pool side, outside, with no heat whatsoever. 

Are you serious? I muttered to myself as I checked in. Muffins, danishes, and warm sausage biscuits were set out on a table. Steaming vats of coffee with cold cream beside them called my name. This morning might, possibly, be salvaged. I got to talking with another girl from Wesleyan volunteering that morning. 1 hour later and 4 cups of coffee down, the two of us were called out to the golf carts to begin volunteering. Our job was to wait in our golf carts at the entrance and shuttle people up to the golf course. It was a simple, enjoyable job, but the cold was killing me. The security guard we were working with was kind enough to turn on the air in the guard house and let us spend our free time warming up in there. It felt like heaven, but we always had to leave the warmth far too soon. At 11AM we had finished up and received Chick fil A sandwiches for our work. Not exactly the pay I was used to, but it had been nice to get some fresh air and a change of scenery. The weather was gorgeous now that we were leaving (figures) and the hills surrounding the golf course made such a pretty landscape. I snapped some pictures and hopped back in my car to get back to school.

Campus was more or less deserted by the time I had returned; everyone had already gone home or to wherever they were going for Fall Break. I went to my last class of the day, Spanish, followed by work study from 3-5PM. While eating dinner in the near-empty dining hall afterwards, I was glad that I had plans to visit Statesboro that Sunday because it would have been very depressing to stay on campus all alone. Saturday morning I was back doing the same volunteering at the golf course. This time we received Nu-Way for our efforts, but I took one look at the near bubblegum-pink hotdog and decided I'd pass. I got back to campus earlier than I had intended and ended up having extra time before work to walk around and check out Wesleyan Market, a conglomeration of local vendors all come out to sell their wares like an extra-classy, mini-fleamarket. I changed out of my volunteer outfit and got ready for my party, then settled down to work on an art project before leaving.

My party went well, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that some of my Spanish class was paying off - I could actually pick up a couple of words that everyone was saying! :P When I returned at 9:30PM to school, exhaustion couldn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I was ready to sleep better than the dead. I set my alarm for Statesboro early in the morning, checked that my bags were packed for my trip, and blacked out.

My drive to Statesboro was not unpleasant, but I-16 East is not a terribly interesting drive. I munched on a granola bar as I drove eastward, the sun just rising above the horizon. Despite the overcast skies, the light was both brilliant and blinding. I realized my mistake in leaving so early - the sun was rising right in my face, making it difficult to drive. I did my best to avert my eyes and was glad that I was one of the only ones on the road that quiet Sunday morning. Exit 116 was finally in front of me and, glad that the drive was overwith, I drove into town. I was able to stay in Statesboro for three days, spending time with Josh and his apartment roommates. We went to Waffle House, watched lots of movies, rented the entire first season of The Walking Dead on Redbox and watched it all in a day, and made pizza. I had a really great time. And I was now addicted to Zombie shows. It was so nice to take a mini-vacation, see Josh and take a break from school. The break ended far too soon and bright and early Wednesday morning I was up, hesitantly, to drive back to Wesleyan for class. With a final hug goodbye to Josh I climbed into my truck and suffered through the drive on I-16. It had been a good Fall Break. It was over too quickly, but I had many things to look forward to - my birthday, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas... it will be a good rest of the year.

"They're Amoebas, NOT Cow Spots!"

Today's Josh and I's year-and-a-half anniversary.

I know, to some, that might seem a little obsessive-compulsive, but I've always been a bit of a mushy person, and I've always had a soft spot for people who buy me Zaxby's, anyways. :P

We've known each other three years come this Summer and been good friends for pretty much all of that time. I met him in the back of a van (how sketchy does that sound?) and - wait for it - while I was in the middle of drawing amoebas in Sharpie on a guy's arm.

"Why are you drawing cow spots on his arm?" He asks.

"They're not cow spots. They're amoebas. Clearly." I retorted, immediately annoyed.

Aaaaand that's how it all started, with me greatly disliking him. But after sticking "Call Me" signs in the window of the van on the ride up to Camp in North Carolina, teaming up to play Scrabble with me acting as spell-check ("Is DUI a word, guys?") and being told by him that my leg was going to have to be amputated before I knew that that hideous purple and blue mark on my leg was a second-degree burn, he didn't really seem so bad. (Ensuring I didn't fall off the side of a mountain and getting to fall asleep on his shoulder the entire ride back to Florida definitely earned him brownie points, too.)

This guy's always stuck around, no matter how cranky I may be when I don't get enough sleep, or how annoyed we both get with my terrible cell phone reception, and even when I was pretty sure I was going to kill his car when he tried teaching me how to drive a stick shift.

He's surprised me by showing up in Florida randomly on several occasions, bought me enough food to last a fat guy through the apocalypse, and I'm pretty sure we've seen more movies together than is even sanely reasonable.

I know, I'm 17, and your expectations for my relationships probably aren't very high. But when it comes down to it, Joshua is the greatest blessing in my life that I have ever received. Joshua's been the one constant in my life for years, through good and bad, through my emotional high school years, the times when I was under more stress than I could manage, when I got diagnosed with Diabetes. Without him, I'm not sure I'd have been able to handle it all. But he's always helped me to pull through. He is always there for me when I need him, which is all the time, because he truly makes life a joy to live - a joy I would never want to live life without. Life is imperfect, but he makes it... absolutely perfect. In all its imperfections.

Yeah. I'm a little bit biased, but he's the best.