A good friend never forgets the ice cream

Despite my lactose intolerance, I have a mega weakness for ice cream.  Actually, that weakness is probably a direct result of being told not to eat ice cream as an eight year old. Anyways, somewhere between the end of senior year and the beginning of college, Julia and I became suckers for anything made by our favorite men, Ben and Jerry.  Whether it was a break up or a bad day or a celebration or just life, we had two spoons and a pint between us most nights.

So here is to J.Schamay and our talks. I hope some things never change.

xox

Char

P.S. I suggest the chocolate fudge brownie.  Just saying.

TGIF

Wow. This week has been a long one.  Between two tests, multiple graphic design projects and bad news around every turn, I am amazed I lived to friday.

I just finished my final test of the week that I studied hours and hours for (and only took 15 minutes to finish) and intend to just sit and enjoy my starbucks until I have to go to my next class.

Luckily, I found the silver lining in this week.  I'll just be frank about it.  I have the most incredible people in my life.  I'm so mad it took me so long to realize, but I'm truly blessed.

Let's start with my best friend and how he drove three hours to be my semi-formal date. Like what? It's so funny how I never thought we would be friends or even get along.  Thanks Kbo! Even though I had just received bad news, Ryan wouldn't allow me to stop and think for even a second. From semi-formal, to downtown, to frat lot tailgating, to watching batman, he never let me stop laughing and dancing and being happy.

Then came Monday, and if you didn't already know, I'm very very accident prone.  Can't trip over enough bricks on the horseshoe or fall out of my bed in the mornings.  It's pretty ridiculous.  

At the University of South Carolina, there is a major rivalry with Clemson and every year, the two schools put that rivalry to good use.  There is a friendly competition to see which school can donate the most blood to the American Red Cross.  Naturally, I wanted to give blood (despite my fear of needles) and did just that. The line was a bit longer than I expected and right after the nurse took the needle out of my arm, I had to run off to french class.  Big mistake.  As I walked down the hall towards 213, I realized I couldn't hear anyone in the hall... even though there was at least 40 people in the hall.  Then my eyes started to blur and I felt hot.  Now, every girl dreams of fainting and being caught by a cute boy, but this was so not the case.  I dropped my bags next to my desk and laid on the ground.  The poor girls in my class were so worried. Yet another example of the amazing people in my life, eight girls that I've known for four months were so worried that they were considering calling an ambulance. 

Okay, I'll wrap it up.  But first I have to talk about the most important people, my best friends, new and old, who never fail to amaze me.

Tuesday morning, I got the call that I knew in my heart would not be a happy one.  My mother had been forced to put our beloved Cleo down.  November 2012, we were given one week with our puppy.  I cried every day at school and Caroline and Julia never let me forget that they were there for me.  And then a year later, even though the two are at UGA and I'm at USC, the minute they knew Cleo was gone, I was getting endless phone calls and texts from the two.  Between that and the best-friend-turned-ex-turned-best-friend-again dropping his plans to make sure I wasn't curled up in a ball on my floor all day, I realized I hit the jackpot.  Caroline and Erin brought me cookies (not stolen this time) and hugs, Kaela distracted me, Y@ checked in with me, Jenny and Taylor made it their job to hug me every time they saw me, heck, even my roommates friends were checking on me.  Martha even offered to drive home and check on my mom for me.  

|| RIP Cleo 11.19.13 ||

Although having to say goodbye to Cleo when I'm no where near home sucks, I'm so grateful that I was with people who cared as much as my friends did.  Going home tonight will be hard without sweet Cleo greeting me at the door, but I know she is still with me everywhere I go.

So hell week is over. I am going home for a week to celebrate Thanksgiving.  I get to see my best friends for the first time in a month.  Everything is going to turn around. 

xox

Char

The Measure of Success

I think one of the many reasons I love going to an institute of higher learning is the majority of professors care more about your understanding and mastery of a topic than your actually grades reflect.

Sadly, we live in this world currently where grades are the measure of success and I can vividly recall from my Senior Year alone, 12 separate instances where the teachers neglected teaching because we "didn't need that for the test" or because it was "a lot of effort" to go over.

Maybe it's the fact that my parents are dishing out loads of money to send me to school and because of that, I feel a greater responsibility and obligation to do my work and achieve my very best.

But I attend a university where people constantly brag about how low they failed because the school is just that difficult. I tend to disagree and point to their poor work ethic and decision to study at the last minute; however, it really does something to you when you put in a good amount of effort to study and you don't get the grade you had hoped.

Does that mean I'm just stupid? That I can't take in the information they want me to and that I'm destined to be a garbage man? LOL no. Ew I couldn't deal with that smell all day. Stop. Focus.

It just means it's a harder school. And the worst part is, everyone is just like you, trying to do their best. What REALLY sucks is when you put in more effort than the girl next to you and she ends up with a grade 10 points higher. Also the fact that you are below the average.

How is that possible?? You studied your ass off, probably twice or three times as much as some of these dilweeds, yet you still came out on the bottom. You know what, so what? Life moves on. A grade doesn't define yourself worth and it doesn't define your character.

I loved this quote my Calculus teacher told us about failure, by Samuel Beckett.

"Ever Tried. Ever Failed. No Matter.
Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Better."

I. LOVE THAT.
It says so much in so little.
It's like okay you failed. But don't get yourself down. Keep going. And if/when this happens again, you
ll be even more prepared to deal with the reactions.

So what do you do? You find a study buddy. You reflect on how you studied, where you studied, and what you studied. You try and make some change to how you went about doing so. And then you ace the next MF-er to silently showcase how smart/talented/awesome you really are.

The other tough part about coming to a university where the median SAT score was well above a 2000 is the fact that these people have these false-sense of entitlement. They feel like with their brain power and lack of coherent social skills, that everything is theres for the taking. And that isn' from my pessimistic outlook; this is me saying that these people LITERALLY think that these positions are theres and anyone who interferes is wrong.

And with that sense of this entitlement comes their love and admiration to brag about how smart and successful they are. Uhm excuse me? Just because you got a higher grade on a test that I studied three times as much for doesn't mean you're smarter.

Success isn't about getting an A, it's about how you deal with getting an F.

I'd like to think I cope quite nicely. You, however, probably cry home to your mother or yell blasphemy at the poor TA who was forced to grade your test. Please, go home and get over yourself. You're not that special if you can't find fault in yourself.


Y@

Monday Mix

     Monday mornings come fast and hard every week.  I'm never actually prepared for them.  The fact that I have an 8:30 every day of the week is miserable, but mondays always seem to be the hardest. (really Fridays are the worst, but ignore that...) Especially now that it is getting cold outside, walking the ten minutes to Stat 110 is just too much.  The only thing that gets me there is the fact that I can ignore the world a little bit longer by putting in my headphones and blocking out all other noise.  (yes, I am that girl mouthing the words to her music).  Mondays deserve happy music, here are my picks to cure the monday morning blues and get yourself motivated for the day!

On Our Way- The Royal Concept
Dreaming- Smallpools

Better Than This- Hunter Hayes

Best I Ever Had- Gavin DeGraw

Can't Hold Us- Macklemore

Sweet Serendipity- Lee DeWyze

OK, It's Alright With Me- Eric Hutchinson

What's your monday morning jam?

xox

Char

Wandering thoughts

    It scares me how often my thoughts consume me, how lost I get in the music flowing through my headphones, how I can sit for hours doing nothing and not understand where the time went.  You know that feeling? That one where you drive home on autopilot and don't really remember how you even got there? That's how I'm feeling right now.  I tried going to sleep at my usual midnight bed time but I laid there for an hour and a half just thinking.  Thinking about what happened in the past and what I want to come in the future, love learned and love lost, friends and family, this past weekend and the next.  In the past hour, I've cried silently and smiled ear to ear at the thought of moments in time.

    It's bad how bipolar my emotions are, but at the same time, I'm happy to have those low moments so I can truly appreciate the high moments.

xox

Char

Working hard or hardly working?

      I've learned a lot in college, but I feel like the best lesson I've learned in my four months of college is how to procrastinate effectively.  I've figured out how little time I have to spend on my french homework, what time I need to leave for my 8:30 if I want to stop for Starbucks (thank god it's part of my meal plan..), and how long I need to sit in the Public Health Research Center until the next bus comes (yes, I am indeed that lazy).  I mean look at me, I should be writing a service learning paper, and instead I'm procrastinating by writing about procrastination.
     College is funny in the sense that you have all the time in the world, but you feel like you never have time for anything.  I never really have all that much homework, but I know I should be studying for some big test somewhere in the near future.  Yet I still find myself catching up on ten different prime time shows, as well as re-watching all eight seasons of desperate housewives on Netflix. Like, why Charlotte, why? I feel guilty just writing this post as Caroline slaves away at her biology and chemistry homework (biomedical engineering say what?).

*I later discovered she was actually online shopping...* 

     Only one good thing has come from my increased procrastination.  When I've watched about four or five episodes of Desperate Housewives, I feel like I should be active.  That's right. I, Charlotte Lindsay Price, have started running to fill my time... and justify my excessive internet television habits. Don't worry, I don't expect the motivation to last very long.

xox

Char

How to Determine if You are a White Girl

My palms sweat nervously as I wait outside the local Starbucks for the store manager to call me in for the job interview.

What if they test me on the different types of beverages they have?! Don't they know I only like the holiday-specific drinks. Everything else is overpriced and too strong for my weak stomach. 

The store manager comes in and says I can come back, but in a flash of excitement, I realize I don't have to depend on anyone but my parents for as long as possible. My maniacal laughter fills the store. Concerned patrons look at me, as I run out the door. I am free. I am broke. I need a job. Ugh I need to tweet about this. 

Hello all three of you that are reading this, I'm Wyatt. I am one of Charlotte's, formally Char or Charlemagne's, best friends. And she's brought me into this, for some reason, to give to you my skewed opinions of the world. And what better way to start than with my weekly holiday: White Girl Wednesday.

First thing's first: what IS a 'white girl.' Well instead of a boring definition, I'll list some popular characteristics. If you fall into a lot of these, you should evaluate your life and consider coming out to your parents as a white girl.

Some descriptions/facts/characteristics of White Girls:

•  Starbucks is like the God of Consumerism. If you have money, you go to Starbucks. If you are thirsty, or hungry, you go to Starbucks. If you are worried or stressed about life, you go to Starbucks. If you need to catch up with an old friend, you skip the crap and go to Starbucks. 
• A subset of this is that a white girl goes to Starbucks so much that the Baristas begin to not only recognize them, but their order as well. (You even begin to work in some discounts or, better yet, drinks on the house).
• Tweeting about your boyfriend problems isn't tacky; its encouraged. Please use as many "yous" and non-descriptive pronouns as possible. It heightens the angst for your audience.
• Know that everybody KNOWS who you're tweeting about.
• Keep tweeting about it.
• Instagramming in the middle of public is highly discouraged...unless of course you're at Starbucks. Then we all know you are trying to show off as well as look a bit artsy. It's okay. We all do it.
• Your favorite show should be somewhere in the realm of Gossip Girl, Gilmore Girls, or Revenge. Glee can count as well.
• If you're desperate for attention, the best way to get it is by tweeting something about how you love Chuck Bass and/or Blair Waldorf. 
• Army Pants and Flip Flops have never, are not, and will never be okay, no matter what the prime-ultimate-comedic film says
• Speaking of which, if Mean Girls comes on, you don't not watch it. There's no options.
• Sweatpants or Yogapants with Uggs is the ultimate "IDGAF" outfit.
• Your main concern is the weather so that, if it is anything but sunny and warm, you let all of your friends know through all forms of social media possible. 
• Having your own Summer Blog helps you get through the year.

Those are just a few of the things that make up being a White Girl.

And White Girl Wednesday is where you should take pride in being a white girl and flaunt all your qualities. So wake up! Tweet something angsty. Instagram that Starbucks. And above all else, live everyday like you are Blair Waldorf. Until you quickly come to the realization that you nor your non-existent boyfriend have the money to keep up with such habits where you should then take your problems to social media.

-Y@
Twitter
Tumblr

A girl and her gay

Every girl needs a gay best friend.  

A Damian to my Janice, a Brandon to my Olive, a Will to my Grace, a Kurt to my Rachel, and of course, an Anthony to my Charlotte.

Meet Wyatt.

Quite possibly the sassiest you'll ever meet.

*Warning* Wyatt will in no way sensor his thoughts.

Happy white girl wednesday from your favorite white girls!

Check back later for Wyatt's first post!

xox

Char

Instagram

Check out the instagram! 

 You know you want to!

xox

Char

Style (with a twist)

Yeah, so basically, I'm a walking accident. 

In the past year, I've worn two different slings, gone to three physical therapists, and had shoulder surgery.  Now, I am wearing a nice black ankle brace.  It's ridiculous how it happened, especially since I tripped and rolled over my ankle over absolutely nothing.  I swear, nothing can be blamed for my clumsiness.  (is that even a word? just go with it.)

So, for those of you who are as accident prone as myself, here are some pictures on how I've styled my many braces!

Love this picture because cheering was such a struggle but a good source

of entertainment!

black dress, black sling, what else do you need?

*Happy Birthday Wyatt*

 I could wear a button up, leggings, and boots everyday.

Day after surgery, on to the blue sling

Luke Bryan Concert

Because I'm obsessed with Garnet and the Gamecocks 

Long day of classes requires a big sweater 

First night of Lamp lighting for DZ!

Right now, it is super frustrating not being able to wear my boots especially since it's getting cold out.   I cannot wait to get out of this ankle brace!! 

xox 

Char

Written in the Stars

I've never really been the superstitious type.

  Sure, I make a wish at 11:11 when I happen to notice it, but I don’t believe in ghosts or fortune tellers or that nonsense.  The only thing I really do the could be considered superstitious or ritual-y of any sort, would be how I religiously read my horoscope daily.  I find everyway it applies to my life, right down to me breaking a nail.

I think it has something to do with the stars. 

I’ve always loved a clear night, laying on the dock at the lake and just looking at the stars.  Or sitting at the playground I grew up on because there are no street lights to ruin the sky.  There’s just something about the stars that calms me. 

When visiting New Zealand about a year ago, there was a fire alarm at like, 3 in the morning, or something and I remember being so cold and wishing I was asleep and then I looked out over the bay in Paihia and just being thankful.  I stopped thinking about what was going wrong and started appreciating what was going right.  For heaven’s sake, I was in New Zealand. I was seeing the world, with my family, in a way that many people can only dream of. 

I once told a friend, “Look at the stars. Ill let you in on a secret. Stars are always there. No matter where you are in the world, Atlanta, New Zealand, Israel. The stars are always there. No matter how you're feeling or who you're with, take a second and just look at the giant sky and remember everything will work out.”

Just remember, everything will work out.

xox

Char

p.s. You can't imagine my excitement when I got into my bed the first night of college and realized the person before me had left glow in the dark stars all over my half of the ceiling.  It's like it was meant to be.

The art of Gameday Dresses

Gameday in the south is quite an event.
Whether you're tailgating in the frat lots or watching the parade of players into the stadium, eating your heart out or drinking it down, watching from the student section or on a small television hooked up to a generator, it's an experience to experience.

A girls biggest concern on a saturday morning is what to wear. Isn't that always a concern? 

Here at South Carolina, tradition is to wear black dresses and cowboy boots. Why, you may ask? Nobody actually knows.  At this point, I've been through about 5 black dresses, worn one twice, spilled god knows what on my cowboy boots, and scrubbed off too many tattoos from my face.

Sorry for the picture overload in advance...

 || Stacy ||

 || J.Schamay & Carol at UGA ||

|| Taylor & Jenny ||

 || Future roomies and Caroline's dad ||

|| Kaela, Caroline & Erin ||

My favorite dresses are from Hope's, Tobi, and J.Crew.

Any suggestions?

xox

Char