Thesis soundtrack

1. Mean - Taylor Swift

2. Not Ready to Make Nice- Dixie Chicks

3. Hold On- Wilson Phillips

4. It's Your LIfe- Francisca Botticelli

5. Soundtrack to Your Life-Ashley Parker Angel

6. In the Sun- Joseph Arthur

7. Io (This Time Around)- Helen Stellar

8. Broken-Lifehouse

9. Disarray-Lifehouse

10. Livin' on a Prayer- Bon Jovi

11. Courage Is- The Strange Familiar

12. Into the Ocean-Blue October

13. Here I Go Again-Whitesnake

14. Stronger- Mandisa

15. Watch Me Shine-Joanna Pacitti

16. Kick a Little- Little Texas

17. Long Live-Taylor Swift

18. How Far We've Come-Matchbox Twenty

Columbia area bucket list

Columbia area bucket list (in no particular order)


1. geocaching

2. white water rafting

3. Biltmore (x)

4. Wilson's childhood home (x)

5. Fort Sumter

6. girl scout museum

7. Paula Deen's restaurant (X)

8. Governor's mansion tour (x)

9. Edventure (x)

10. Lebanese food @ Elie's (X)

11. Kensington mansion

12. Robert Mills house (x)

13. Manns-Sims Cottage (x)

14. Hampton-Preston mansion (x)

15. Congaree canoe trip

16. botanical garden (x)

17. Carolinian library (x)

18. USC baseball game (x)

19. see the First Baptist table where the secession papers were signed (x)

20. SC military museum

21. Korean church

22. Coca Cola museum

23. Atl aquarium

24. GA capital building-ATL

25. NC capital building- Raleigh

26. SC state library

27. SC Dept of Archives & History

28. Medieval Times

Bucket List

What I want to do before I kick the bucket- in no particular order: (It's a work in progress, but I am finally putting it in writing.)

1. Walk the Great Wall of China

2. See the pyramids in Egypt

3. Spend Christmas in Bethlehem

4. Watch the ball drop in NYC

5. Go to Paris, France

6. Walk Normandy Beach

7. Eat escargot

8. Make it to the North rim of the Grand Canyon

9. See Mt. Rushmore

10. Go to Coney Island

11. Go to San Francisco and visit each place in the Full House opening

12. Go to a Mardi Gras Ball (X)

13. Become Dr. Epperson

14. Go to Holt House at Monmouth College

15. Help deliver a baby (x)

16. See a space shuttle launch live (X)

17. Help out in disaster relief (x) (x)

18. Go to Cornwall, England to see where my family came from

19. Go skiing

20. Run a 5k (X) (X)

21. Go to India and get henna

22. Visit every state capital building

23. Swim with dolphins

24. Give a eulogy (X) (x)

25. Make a good toast at a wedding (X)

26. Become a Godmother (X)(X)(X)(x)

27. Be the Maid of Honor (X) (X)

28. Give a moving speech that makes people cry (X)

29. Eat chitlins

30. See the redwood forest

31. Go to the rainforest (X)

32. Climb a mountain (X)

33. Visit Pi Beta Phi Headquarters (X)

34. Serve on AAC (X)

35.  Give out 20,000 books to children (Fraternity Day of Service) (X)

36. Go scuba diving (x)

Soundtrack for Life for my Godchildren

1. Sunscreen Song-Baz Luhrmann

2. I'll See you on the Other Side - George Strait

3. Unanswered Prayers - Garth Brooks

4. This is Your Life - Switchfoot

5. Fireflies - Lori McKenna

6. Defying Gravity - Wicked

7. Something Worth Leaving Behind - Lee Ann Womack

8. The Climb - Miley Cyrus

9. When You Come Back Down - Nickelcreek

10. My Wish - Rascal Flatts

11. You Gotta Be - Des'Ree

12. Hero - Mariah Carey

13. Angels Among Us - Alabama

14. What the World Needs Now is Love - Jackie DeShannon

15. Man in the Mirror- Michael Jackson

16. Courage Is - Strange Familiar

17. I Just Want to Love You - Strange Familiar

18. Life is a Highway - Rascal Flatts

19. Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch - The Temptations

20. One Girl Revolution- Saving Jane (for Araceli)

21. Growing Pains themesong

22. Forever Young - Rod Stewart

23. We Can - LeAnn Womack

24. Who I Am - Jessica Andrews (for Araceli)

25. This Is Your Life - Switchfoot

26. I Dare You To Move - Switchfoot

27. You Might Die Trying - Dave Matthews

28. Strange Cup of Tea - Sister Hazel

29. Hands - Jewel

30. Love Generation - Bob Sinclair

31.  Fight Song - Rachel Platten

32. Brave - Sara Bareilles

33. Every Storm -Gary Allan

34. In the Morrow - Brandi Carlile

35. Shake It Out - Florence & The Machine

36. Live Your Life Rig

The Story of Eppie

When Eppie first came into my life, my heart was very much closed. I am so good at putting walls up and not letting anybody in. After a particularly hard year and then a semester 600+ miles away from my family, I cried myself to sleep every night. There was a void in my life that was yet to be filled. At the end of that first semester, my father came to my spacious apartment that had hardly any furniture because I only came with a carload of things to South Carolina. He realized how quiet and lonely my life was and gave me a Christmas gift that I always called the best Christmas gift I ever received.


I was not too sure about getting a dog. My sister, Britni, was always the animal lover. In fact, most anybody in my family was more of an animal lover than me. It’s not that I did not like animals. It is just that my family members liked them so much that they took over the animals and left little room for me to involved in the process. Eppie was the first thing that was all mine to take care of. I was wary.


I told my father to not be disappointed if I took my time. I was going to be picky and find the right dog. I still was not sure if I needed/wanted a dog. I asked my father if he would take him back if I realized this was not going to work out. He agreed. We went to pick him out of a litter of puppies. There were white and brown ones. I knew I wanted a male. I picked out Eppie because he was the fattest and had a belly. Also, some of his litter mates were white, and I was concerned about those looking dirty. When I picked him in my arms, he nuzzled it and licked it a little. I said this was the one. My father laughed that I picked a dog from the first Chihuahua litter that we found.


His color was rare. I was told a small percentage of Chihuahuas had that color. To my father, he looked like a Reese cup; that’s why his middle name was Reese. Everywhere we went he got attention. People were not always sure what type of dog he was because of his colors. He was friendly and thought everybody would be his friend. I had to keep him from running up to strangers because if he saw someone out and about, he thought they should be his friend. Sometimes cats crouched down like they wanted to pounce on him, and I had to pick him up really quickly. One time it was squirrels that stared at him like they were trying to figure out what exactly he was. He turned heads wherever he went by humans and animals alike.


I really did not know what I was doing with a puppy. The first night I had him I said that he would sleep in the bathroom until he was housebroken. He cried so much I put him the bed with me. From that night on that’s where he was, right by my side under the blanket.


And during the day he was right beside. He went to the movies with me under a coat or sweatshirt, and he quietly slept there content. I may have looked a little pregnant,but I had my buddy with me. As a puppy, he went shopping with me in a bag. He would sleep as I checked items off my list. One time it was a cold, winter day. He had just gone to the vet to get some shots and was not feeling well. I had some books on hold that were about to expire, so I put him in my coat to go through the self-checkout. Even places that he was not necessarily supposed to go (like restaurants), my faithful companion went with me. He’s been trick or treating, a cow for Cow Appreciation Day at Chick-fil-a, and blessed at a pet blessing.


Eppie was my travel dog. We road tripped across several states,and he even flew as my personal item as a carry-on for some plane rides.


I cannot mark exactly when it happened, but my heart started changing. Through having Eppie, my heart grew at least two sizes. When I first got him, my father told me that these little dogs will get close to your heart. I did not know how true that was until my heart was already stolen by a five-pound dog. When I cried, Eppie licked my tears. When I took a bath when he was puppy, he would prance in,peer over the edge, and ask for water. He outgrew that, but he still came in to check on me to make sure I was okay. He would stop halfway up the stairs and just peer at me when I was sitting in the living room. When someone else picked him up,he had to find me in the room and would practically leap from their arms into mine, even if I was not that close to the other person.


He loved chap stick and would always remind me if I left food in my purse because he would find it. He also loved underwear, and he would manage to get on his hind legs and pull out underwear that I stuffed in the bottom of the laundry basket. It was quite impressive. I would change the sheets and find underwear stuffed in between the bed and the wall. I’m not sure if he did this because he thought I was another dog like him or if he was just showing that he cared, but he would lick my hair at night like he was grooming me. Sometimes he would lick my arm or leg until he fell asleep.


One day I came home when he was a puppy, and I had apparently left the spare room door cracked. He got into my suitcase at the bottom of the closet and found a nice little bed after pulling out a few articles of clothing to decorate the floor. Then, rather precisely, he made a trail of evenly spaced out shoes out the bedroom and into the hall. It was not until I saw him with a shoe in his mouth carrying it into his dog bed(that he only got into when he did not feel well or went to the vet because he otherwise slept with me) that I saw the artwork he left for me. Also, when he was a puppy, he pierced my computer cord with his teeth and never liked any cord since then. He went crazy when I would plug something in.


So at some point Eppie moved from being a dog to being my family. He was not a pet but my baby. I called him five pounds of pure love and my baby dog. I considered him my first-born. And someday if I have children and they ask me about Eppie,I will let them know about the one that set up residence in my heart first. In doula training when we talked about our ideal birth situation and drew a picture, Eppie was there. When I thought about a wedding, I thought about putting him in a suit to stand by my side. It makes me sad about the times I had in mind that we will never share, but I am so grateful for the times that we did have together.


So how do you say goodbye to a little guy like that? No time would have been a good time. When I looked up the life expectancies of Chihuahuas when I first got him, the books said 18-21 years. I thought I had a lot more time. From time to time when I thought about the day I would lose him, I always thought I would have a full family of my own to help ease my pain. It did not happen that way.


It was sudden. I had no time to emotionally prepare. I’m still in shock that he is gone. The pitter-patter of little feet and the little jump into the bed at night is missed. His little face greeting me at the window when I pull up in the driveway is painful to not see. He would have his face at the window and watch me until he saw me go under the porch, then he raced down the stairs and was by the door to greet me when I opened it. He had it timed perfectly.


Today we wrote his name on balloons with messages and released them by the bayou. I watched the balloons until I could no longer see them. It was hard to let go of that balloon, but I kissed it and on the count of three let it go. A little while later I was running some errands and I was thinking about the balloons and how they disappeared into the sky. I looked up at the sky, and there was a rainbow without rain. I have never seen that. I looked again and found two rainbows. I like to think that it was a message from God reminding me of his promises and that He was still there. I’d also like to think it was Eppie saying thanks for the balloons sent up to heaven for him and that he would be waiting for me until we meet again.


It won’t be easy going through things that we used to share together without him. I miss his warm little body snuggled next to me. I miss his little sighs and sassiness. I miss how he always made my lap his. Computer, books,or anything else that occupied my lap would play second fiddle to Eppie. He would wedge his way into my lap,just like he waltzed into my heart and opened it up. Though I had way less time than I wanted with him, I am thankful for the time we did share. In large and small ways, my life and heart will never be the same. Thank you, Eppie, for loving me. Thank you for all the good times. Thank you for your loyalty and devotion. I’ve said before that I am looking fora guy to treat me like Eppie did, but the truth is, I do not think I ever could find one. Eppie’s love was pure,and it melted my cold, closed-off heart. So now I have to deal with the challenges of living without him. I hate being home because everything is attached to a memory of him. As much as I was wary of letting him in to my life beforehand, I am infinitely more concerned about letting go. It’s hard to say goodbye. SoI’d prefer to think of this time now as him changing his residence from my house to permanently in my heart. There was an Eppie-sized hole in my heart that only he could fill that I did not realize at the time. I will always love you, Eppie.

Mrs. C and Me

I have been putting off writing this for months. I know I have to get the story out. It is just hard because writing it feels like the final goodbye. A little over 7 years ago I was walking my dog Eppie around the neighborhood, which we did not do often because he was so small, and I ended up carrying him by the end because his little body would tire out. I needed a place to live, and I happened to find a for rent sign pointing down a driveway. I rang the doorbell, and an older lady answered. She gave me the key and told me to check it out since should could not get up the stairs.


I had fantasized about living in a garage apartment since Mike lived in one on Growing Pains. It is funny how those weird dreams you have sometimes work out. While living there, I had a unique view into Mrs. C’s life. While we lived in separate buildings, we shared a yard, a lot of meals, and many talks. I could see her house and know generally where she was in the house by what light was on. Likewise, she could see when I went to bed by my lights and knew if I never came home at night or very late.


Stepping into her house was kind of like a time capsule. It was really neat to see things preserved in time and to learn about a different way of life. She told me a lot of stories, but she alway was a good a listener. She asked questions. She knew everybody’s names from my stories. When she asked about my family, she called them by name. She cared. Mrs. C was one person genuinely interested in my life. She had a neat perspective from seeing so much in her almost century of life, but she had some progressive views. There was this one paradox that always makes me smile when I think about it. She would ask me if I found anyone special and then in the next breath tell me that I did not need any man and could be successful and not depend on anyone. She also firmly believed than none of my ex-boyfriends were good enough for me and would tell me so often.


Mrs. C fully lived life. She loved to eat and was so curious about things. She sat out in her garden and took in the day. I would get so caught up in the busyness of my life, and she would slow me down. Conversations with her would easily be 1-2 hours. In fact, unless I was jumping into my car in passing and saw her, I am not sure I ever had a conversation with her less than an hour. Some days she would be sitting on the porch and flag me down to talk. She told me that she had a book of everyone that lived in the garage apartment, and she kept up with them. I asked who lived there the longest since the 1950s when she first started this, and she turned and looked at me and told me it was me. Then she told me never to move away. I was told by a former garage apartment tenant that Mrs. C was picky about who she let in the apartment, but once you were in, you were family.


Although she never had children and grandchildren, she built strong friendships and they became an extension of her family. She was a grandmother figure in my life. I would look out for her, carry groceries inside, and fix things like the cable. I gave her lessons on the internet and Facebook. Yes, even in her 90s, she was not afraid to face the new frontier of social media. And in her own way, she looked after me. She loved fresh fruit and food. Whenever she would go to a fruit stand or farmer’s market, she put some aside for me. I learned how to preserve fruit during the time I lived in the backyard because she always insisted that I take more than I could eat. There is a funny story about this. Mrs. C volunteered at the soup kitchen until she could no longer get there. I was lucky enough to volunteer with her once and see her in her element. At the end of the day she would take leftovers home because she did not believe in food waste. She would call me over and give me leftovers. One day she gave me a sandwich. I went home and ate it. Later she called me and asked if I had eaten it because she gave me the wrong sandwich. I ate a three week old sandwich, but I never got sick. This story still brings a smile to my face.


In the end, things changed, and I did not even realize it was changing or maybe I was in denial. It got to where she could not be alone. I started spending the nights with her. I am grateful for this time because we had more conversations during this period. I do not know how I could have lived that close to someone that long without getting to know them well, but we got to know each other on another level when we stopped sharing just a yard and driveway and started sharing a house. I still had faith that she would recover. She always did. She would spend months in the hospital and rehab and always come out fine on the other side. We talked about future excursions and adventures. When I lost her, it was also the death of those dreams that could never be fulfilled. One of those dreams we talked about was the farm that she had in her hometown. I never got to spend the weekend there with her, but on the day of her funeral a family member gave me directions, and I got to have a moment of closure standing in the cotton fields.


I do not know if you are ever prepared to lose someone that you care about unless there is a long illness or dire news given to you, but losing Mrs. C felt so sudden and unbelievable. She had recovered every other time. She was tough. In the end, I felt so alone. We always looked out for one another, and then there was just me. I lost Eppie in that garage apartment too. We started off as three, and I was the lone ranger.


In the months that followed, I started rethinking our conversations and interactions over the past 7 years. I thought about things I could have said. I thought about conversations we could have had. I held on to the ones we did have. I started wondering what she thought of me. Coincidentally a few weeks after her death there was a pet blessing at her church. I always liked taking my dogs to get blessed, and I have visited just about every denomination that does it. I had not been to this denomination yet, and the timing was right for me to be able to go. When I arrived one of the priests was one that I had met at Mrs. C’s house. She told me I looked familiar, and I told her why. We then talked about the loss of Mrs. C and how I was struggling. She told me about a conversation she had with her about me a while back and how she thought that she loved me. Strangely enough, through a pet blessing I was able to get some peace. Since then family members recounted how she would tell them stories about what I was up to, and I felt better.


While I am sad about the things we will never get to do together and the fact that she will never get to see me get my PhD, something she has journeyed along with me for years, I know she is not in pain and reunited with her husband that she loved. And when you lose someone you care about, you may lose the physical presence, but you carry the memories with you. Thanks for teaching me a lot, Mrs. C, and if you can see down from heaven (which I am not sure is theologically accurate), I hope I am making you proud.

Books of 2017

The Awakening, Kate Chopin

Be the Gift, Ann Voskamp

The Broken Way, Ann Voskamp

Calm My Anxious Heart, Linda Dillow

Ditched: A Love Story, Robin Mellom

Don't Waste Your Life, John Piper

Eleanor, Quiet No More, Doreen Rappaport

Eva's Story: A Survivor's Tale by the Step-Sister of Anne Frank (Eva Schloss with Evelyn Julia Kent)

Farewell Rob Bell, Larry Dixon

Finding the Deep River Within, Abby Seixas

The Go-Girl Guide, Julia Bourland

The Goddess in the Gospels, Margaret Starbird

Heidi, Johanna Spyri

How to Practice The Way to a Meaningful Life, The Dalai Lama

Judy Moody, Megan McDonald

If I Could Ask God One Question, Paul Williams & Barry Cooper

Karen’s Secret, Ann M. Martin

Karen's Witch, Ann M. Martin

Libby and the Class Election, Shana Muldoon Zappa & Ahmet Zappa

The Little Engine That Could, Watty Piper

Love Wins, Rob Bell

Make Way for Ducklings, Robert McCloskey

Mary Anne Saves the Day, Ann M. Martin

No Longer a Slumdog, K.P. Yohannan

Pollyanna, Eleanor H. Porter

The Professor Is In, Karen Kelskey

The Real Mother Goose

Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Kate Douglas Wiggin

Resisting Happiness, Matthew Kelley

Revelations of a Single Woman, Connally Gilliam

Sage and the Journey to Wishworld, Shana Muldoon Zappa and Ahmet Zappa

Talking As Fast As I Can, Lauren Graham

The Time Keeper, Mitch Albom

Voices of the Faithful, Kim P. Davis (compiled by)

We Should All Be Feminists, Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche

Why I Live in Mississippi, Ellen Patrick

Woman to Woman: Beyond Stereotypes and Status (edited by Lyman Coleman)

10 Stupid Things Women Do To Mess Up Their Lives, Laura Schlessinger

13 Reasons Why, Jay Asher

20 Something, 20 Everything, Christine Hassler