Twentytwelve.

Welp, it's New Year's Eve folks.

I'm at home. On my couch. Auburn game on the TV and a Diet Coke in my hand. 

But seriously, no complaints. 

I've never really been super psyched about New Year's Eve. 

Don't get me wrong, I'd love an excuse to wear a dress completely covered in gold sequins. However, I'd feel a little funny wearing that at high school reunion in somebody's garage and that's about all my hometown has to offer. 

Maybe if I ever live in some big swanky city.
(via Pinterest)

In the past, I've never really set a store by New Year's Resolutions.

This year I have some goals in mind. 

I'll try not to bore you with specifics, but I mostly just need to start living healthier.

More running, less excuses. More water, less Diet Coke. More planning healthy meals, less grabbing a kid's meal from Moe's because all I have is oatmeal at my apartment.

It's never too early to start preparing for the day that my metabolism slows down.

Another glorious ensemble.
(via Pinterest)

I see a lot of potential in 2012, but I can't really complain about 2011. 

Honestly, I can't really complain about anything. 

All of the people I love are healthy. 

I'm healthy. 

I live in America.

I know Jesus.

And my twelve year old Jeep is still kickin'. 

Let me know if I left anything out. 

Happy New Year's everybody!

Auburn is winning and Dad is in the kitchen prepping for the black eyed peas and collard greens meal that he has made every New Year's Day since I can remember.  

Wudduuppp 2012. 

Pinterest, circa 1999.

I helped my mom set up a Pinterest account a few days ago. 

I warned her that it can and will occupy way more of her time then she ever intended, but she didn't seem to take my warning too seriously.

Earlier this evening she came into the living room holding the box pictured below and said "Look what I found! I was into Pinterest before Pinterest was Pinterest!"

Slightly more cumbersome than a website. 

Bathrooms, window seats, fireplaces, laundry rooms,  design, recipes, etc...
Basically the core of Pinterest. 

Some ideas she tore straight out of magazines. 

And some she took the time to cut out, glue to loose leaf paper, and write what she liked and/or would do differently.

Two words that seem to describe life before the internet: bulky and inefficient. 

Mad props to the generations that went through college/life without it! 

And also, check out how cute my baby brother was at age 2. 

How adorable was that handprint border we had running through our playroom?  You rock, mom. 

If you are still living life without Pinterest and want to create an account, please feel free to ask! I would be more than happy to send you an invite. 

Big Easy on the brain.

Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house, 

 A Mardi Gras celebration in New Orleans was all we could think about. 

I saw a tutorial for a wreath made of Mardi Gras beads on Pinterest a few weeks ago and immediately added it to my "To-Do During the Measly 10 Days That I'm Home" List.

So Mama Lisa and I hit the Michael's/ JoAnn's/ Hobby Lobby trifecta in search of wreath forms that had survived Christmas. 

And then we sorted through the 200 pounds of Mardi Gras beads that my parents took home from our last family trip to New Orleans. 

"When we go back this year, we aren't taking home any beads. And I mean NONE. Actually, we can take home the cool ones. " - Mom
(Notice anything peeking out of that green bag? Like a cat?)

I would feel silly posting a step-by-step "how to" because the tutorial we followed was pretty much perfect. (click here)

Mine is on the left, mom's is on the right. 

It took the better part of an afternoon to start and finish them and I might have almost stormed off in frustration trying to perfect my bow. 

Purple, gold, and green decor: check. 

Jambalaya cravings: check. 

Currently watching a Saints game despite the fact I'm not even a huge NFL fan: check. 

The countdown until Mardi Gras has officially begun. 

Waiting on that Holy Night.

A lot of our lives are spent waiting. Waiting on the light to turn green, for our habitually tardy friend to show up for lunch, or for that gorgeous gray Patagonia fleece to go on-sale (been waiting on that one for a while now, folks). 

Christmastime is pretty much one big ol' pile of waiting. 

We wait for Starbucks to bring back the infamous Peppermint Mocha in its infamous red cup. 

We wait for ABC Family to start airing their 25 Days of Christmas programming of movies we have all seen at least 25 times.

 We wait for the socially acceptable time to put the Country Christmas Pandora station on full blast throughout the apartment. 

And then we have the Advent Calendar, whose sole purpose is to aid the countdown to December 25. 

And on December 25, the wait is finally over. 

It's finally Jesus' birthday. 

The birthday that was prophesied repeatedly throughout scripture. 

The birthday when God sent us a way to know and experience His love. 

The birthday the whole world had been waiting for. 

Matthew 1:18-25 on the chalkboard wall in my apartment.

And my oh my, is this birthday a cause for celebration.

 We celebrate that the creator of the entire universe chose to humble himself to the form of a baby in a feeding trough. 

We celebrate that he then grew up to live a perfect, sinless life amidst the temptations he faced as a human. 

We celebrate that he chose to take on the wrath and punishment of the whole world's sins, therefore saving us from our own. 

We celebrate that through his life, death, and resurrection, we can know him personally.

We can know His love, His grace, and His freedom. 

And I think a celebration like that is well worth the wait. 

Merry, merry, merry Christmas to you all.
I hope you are having as much fun being home with your family as I am with mine! 

O, Holy Night is my absolute favorite. Especially when Carrie Underwood sings it.

Treasure Hunting.

I'M HOME I'M HOME I'M HOME!

After a full thirty-six hours of parents, brothers, cousins, dogs, food, and last minute Christmas shopping in the metropolis that is Stuart, FL, I felt like spending some quiet time in my room. 

And by that I mean spending 2+ hours looking through old junk drawers, shoe boxes, nooks and crannies hoping to come across embarrassing/heartwarming artifacts. 

My findings did not disappoint. 

"Brother for sale, he's only 50 cents!"... Basically my anthem from years 1995- 2003.

On my 18th birthday, my Nana and Papa gave me a cardboard box...

...chock full of newspapers and magazines that they bought on the actual day of my birth.

Significant hair accessories:
1. From my private school days.
2. From the year my high school volleyball team won a state championship. I wore that every single game of the season.
3. From my club volleyball years. I think I wore that during every game of every tournament for a 3 season stretch. Apparently I wasn't too concerned about personal hygiene. 

The hermanos and I with our chocolate lab, Chip, dressed as a plan bag of M&Ms.
If I am remembering correctly, he won 2nd place in our church's pet costume contest.
I won 1st place for Ugliest Haircut.

The only thing I really remember about Girl Scouts is that my troop leader went into labor the day before our camping trip.
Life handed my 9 year-old self lemons, so I camped out in the backyard.

And last, but certainly not least, the cast of Two-a-Days in the cover sleeve of  my binder from age 16.
Clearly foreshadowing the obsession that is Friday Night Lights.

Not pictured: my diary from my freshman and sophomore year of high school. As expected, the entries were melodramatic, cringe-worthy, and a little too personal to share. My favorite entry was a poem entitled "Teardrops" and it sounded like a pathetic collaboration between Taylor Swift and Nickelback. Like I said...embarrassing. 

Happy Christmas Eve-Eve!

And it keeps me turning home.

I've been an emotional wreck lately.

Not the depressed kind. Just the kind that cries at Modern Family episodes, country songs about transitioning into adulthood, and that flash mob "Home for the Holidays" T-Mobile commercial. 

Basically, I'm 12 different types of homesick and I really miss my family. And my house and the layer of dog hair that covers it. And doing asinine things with my brothers that drive my parents to say things like "I can't hear myself think". 

source

Waiting to go home for Christmas break has kind of made me obsess over my family. My immediate family, my extended family, and the people that fall somewhere in between. How much I love them, how much they love me, and how sad it is that there are people who don't look forward to going home. 

Maybe this is all because I've watched 17 hours of the show Parenthood in the last 48 hours. Or maybe it's because I haven't been home in over four months. Or maybe its that every person I know is Facebooking/Tweeting "HOME SWEET HOME!!! SO HAPPY TO BE BACK!!". 

(Seriously people, grow some creativity.)

I'm planning on pulling into my driveway in 4 days. 

And I reeeaallly can't wait. 

Title: Turning Home by David Nail. 

Wordless Wednesday

(Spinach leaves, feta cheese, couscous, grape tomatoes, red onion, balsamic vinagriatte)

(idea inspired by Pinterest.)

Playground politics.

A classmate used these clips in his presentation today and we all just about died laughing.

Granted, it was a class of Social Science Education nerds. 

But, still. It's funny. 

Africa

North Korea

And my personal favorite...

Canada

Pretty brilliant right?

Lemme lemme upgrade ya.

Notice anything different?

Like a new title? New URL? New header design?

It was time to change things up and obviously the best time to do so was the week before my final exams.  I pretty much hated my old URL (mynext20years-amanda.blogspot.com) and I wasn't crazy about the title either (Roots and Wings).

So welcome to Sweet Tea and God's Graces DOT COM. 

I bit the bullet and payed Google $10 for my very own domain. 

I think it'll be worth it. 

I literally know nothing about HTML codes or templating or web design, but imma try and get this thing looking swankier over Christmas break.

What do you think?!

Title Reference: Upgrade U -  Beyonce

Christmas according to my iPhone.

I don't know if I formally announced it in the blog world yet, but this is a biggun folks...

I CAVED IN AND BOUGHT MYSELF AN IPHONE.

With the amount of time and effort I dedicate to social media, it was time I joined the modern world and upgraded from a $10 phone that had three apps: text, talk, and listen. (Right, Papa?!) 

And it was well worth the wait.

One of my favorite features is the swanky camera and all the picture perfect memories that my fingertips are now able to capture. 

Disclaimer: If you follow me on Twitter, this is probably going to bore you.

Decorating Christmas cookies and ornaments with my CRU community group.
Love 'em.

Yes, these are Circle K employees.
Yes, it is 2 in the morning.
And yes, Santa is smoking a Black 'n Mild.

(Pictures from work: part 1)
Sumo Claus and his elf, Sumo Elf.
Par for the course for a 4th grade boy. 

(Pictures from work: part 2)
Feliz Navidad, y'all.
Obviously my job is really hard.

I hope you all have enjoyed the early stages of Christmas preparation as much as I have!

Can you think of any iPhone apps that I sorta-kinda-absolutely-gotta have?

You guys and y'all.

I come from Martin County, FL. 

A slice of small town heaven north of the concrete jungle that is South Florida. 

The county north of us is full of thugs and rednecks. The county south of us is full of Yankees and Really Rich People (which are frequently one in the same). The Atlantic Ocean is to the east and the county to the west is full of cows, citrus, and camouflage. 

So that leaves Martin County with a population of neutral accents. Half say you guys, half say y'all. 25% sound like Southerners, 25% sound like Northerners, and the rest of us sound like American mutts.

So as an amateur (very amateur...) and aspiring linguist, I've spent a lot of time thinking about and observing the differences between the English language's two forms of second person plural. 

You guys and y'all.

Probably not completely accurate, but you get the point.
(Source)

 I mean, some people say you guys, some people say y'all. Some people like Coke, some like Pepsi. To each their own right? Mmmmm, not quite. At least in my opinion.

Besides the fact that y'all sounds much more warm and endearing than its Yankee counterpart, y'all just works better in the English language.

Y'all is concise. Y'all is gender neutral. Y'all has a plural form. 

Y'all just makes so much more sense.

Examples?

If I am talking to a group of girls: 

Hey, do you guys want to go to get some frozen yogurt? 

Girls are not guys. 

Hey, do y'all want to go to get some frozen yogurt?

Y'all is gender neutral. It works.

Let's say I want to ask a group of classmates about an assignment that was just handed out:

Hey, do your guyses packets have three pages or four pages?

Um, what? What does that even mean? How do I even spell that?

Hey, do y'alls packets have three pages or four pages?

Ah, much better. Y'all has a plural form. 

Let's say I am asking a group of people about their plans:

Are all of you guys going to the Chili Cookoff tonight?

Not too much of a mouth full, but I'd rather say...

Are all y'all going to the Chili Cookoff tonight?

Y'all is concise yet all encompassing. 

Like everything else in America, the English language is full of freedoms and choices. 

Some great, some mediocre at best. 

So choose wisely, y'all. 

Home is wherever I'm with you.

My hometown is, was, and forever will be sleepy little Stuart, FL.

But to me, home feels like a lot of different things. 

Home feels like an apartment overflowing with popcorn, Diet Coke, and country music videos.

 Home feels like listening to Wagon Wheel. Over, and over, and over. 

Home feels like seeing a beat up old truck decorated with an American flag sticker and a Martin County license plate. 

Home feels like the first glimpse of the Blue Ridge mountain range after a road trip full of Chick-Fil-A and Johnny Cash. 

But mostly, home feels like being surrounded by the people that laugh at my corny jokes, don't judge me for not washing my hair for 5 days, and tell me to straighten up when I'm acting like a grouchy brat.

Yep, that's family.  

This week home was Thanksgiving in Dothan, Alabama. 

Nope, I didn't get a fancy new camera. But I did get a fancy new iPhone and I had way too much fun with the Instagram app. 

Home was a kitchen full of perfecting family recipes and experimenting with new ones.

When life doesn't give you enough lemons...or limes...

Startin' em young.
(In the mixing bowl: Mama's Hashbrown Casserole. Major yums.) 

Home was a week-long(ish) slumber party with the best brothers and cousins a gal could ask for. 

#airmattresslife

Home was cruisin' around the farm on four wheels. Or four legs. Whatever.

(The following pictures were taken by Aunt Tracy and her out-of-this-world-awesome camera. Not my iPhone.)

I literally got to ride a horse into the sunset. And yes, it kind of made me feel like a Disney princess. 

"I need to start doing this more often. I mean the horses are in my backyard and all..." -Ethan

Home was constantly being entertained my father, the king of one-liners. 

Somebody, please, get that man a Twitter! 

Papa Jeff on Black Friday shopping: "I'm just gonna sit here and see how long it takes for somebody to want to take a Santa picture with me."
(PS: Nobody did. Better luck next time, padre.)

Home was football. 

SO. MUCH. FOOTBALL. 

(and we wouldn't have it any other way.)

What Thanksgiving is complete without a little backyard football action?

Iron Bowl 2011...
War eagle anyway. 

Great 'stache, bro.
(PS. I had my FSU tank on underneath my Auburn shirt. Easy transition for the back-to-back games.)
(PS again: SEMINOLES RULE, GATORS DROOL.)

And home was all the random snippets of memories that can't really be categorized. 

No caption necessary. 

Dothan, Alabama trying their best to overcome racial stereotypes. 

Our family can't cross the state line without bringing home some kind of animal.
Pictured: Ally (as in Ally-bama) the Walmart parking lot pup. 

 So yeah. Basically, I love my family. 

Because home wouldn't be anywhere or anything without them.

(PS. Somehow Mom, Nanny, Stephen, or Uncle Ric didn't make it into any of the pictures worth posting. Sorry folks! Get ready for a paparazzi at Christmas.)

Title reference: Home by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros. 

But you should really listen to this version. It's way cuter. 

A few of my favorite things.

In the spirit of the Best Holiday of the Year (actually it's tied with the Forth of July), I wanted to do a post about the things I am thankful for. 

But I'm thankful for a lot of things. 

Spanish moss, thunderstorms, Moe's queso, random acts of kindness, duck boots, morning runs throughout an empty campus, movie theater popcorn, finding new friends, my favorite song coming on the radio at exactly the right time. 

So I'll just limit it to my favorite things that are in the 10 square feet that is my room. 

My notecard journal. 

Read this post for the full story. 

My cowboy boot hat hangers. 

Warning: Don't step foot in a Hobby Lobby if you don't have money burning a whole in your pocket.
Which I don't.
Which is why I'm not going back.
(Haha, yeah right.)

My sleepy shorts. 

I think I've had these things since I was like 14. They are the softest most comfortable thing I own and I'll cry the day the washing machine does them in. 

My bed.

I found the pillow at Target. And then Dad and I made the headboard using a shower curtain... from Target. And then I found the sheets for 6 bucks at Target. SCORE. 

My t-shirt quilt. 

The summer after my freshman year, I came home and realized I had a butt-load of high school t-shirts that I probably wasn't ever going to wear again. Solution? T-shirt quilt! 

The fact that I had literally spent zero time on a sewing machine prior to this endeavor did not deter me. I spent most of my free time working on the squares, but I had NO idea what I was doing. Seriously, my techniques probably would have made legit quilters cringe. 

The summer came to an end but the production of my quilt did not. And then the summer of 2011 passed without me sewing even a stitch. My mom knows me better than anybody in this world, so she paid a professional to finish it. 

BEST. BIRTHDAY. PRESENT. EVER.

(Besides Bernise the Old Jeep, of course.)

Happy Thanksgiving. 

Is there anything random in your room you are super grateful for?

Catch-up.

Remember that one time when I neglected my blog for almost a month?

And I skipped over Halloween, Parent's Weekend, and my 21st birthday?

Yeah, me too. 

Sorry.

Halloween: my least favorite holiday, but my favorite costume yet. 

Pan Am, anyone?

The skirt-suit came from Goodwill (of course) and Sara made my hat out of thin blue foam. 

Sara and I cheesin' it up.

An artist and her canvas. And a flight attendant. 

Angry birds. 

We decided they were Pan Am stewardesses...off duty. 

Divas.
(Ke$ha, Adele, Amy Winehouse, and Britney)

Halloweekend also consisted of a visit from my mother and brother. And a football game. And trips to Chick-fil-a and Chipotle. Because we are the Bowers family, and that's what we do. 

Not pictured: Papa Jeff. Maybe next time. 

Tailgating photoshoot mishap...but I really love this picture.

Stevie making a new best friend. 

Life is just better when mom is within hugging distance. 

And then came my 21st birthday. 

Yep, the big 2-1. 

Two words: chalkboard wall.

 Since my birthday fell on a Monday, my loving friend/roommate Sara planned an on-campus picnic so friends could come and go in between classes. Have I mentioned how much I love her?

We all enjoyed  pesto/tomato/mozzarella sandwiches, my favorite bean dip, and lemon/blueberry cupcakes made from scratch. That girl knows what she's doing in the kitchen. 

Cupcake headband! And a ThirstBuster.
(69 cents for 44 ounces? Let's just say I am so obsessed with that bargain that I just wrote an entire paper on it for my microeconomics class.)

Some friends and a brother. 

And a lawn chair. Why not?

Oh, and don't worry. 

Alcohol was involved. 

First legal purchase.
I'm fairly certain the cashier wasn't even going to card me. I pretty much had to shove my drivers license into her hand. IT'S MY 21st BIRTHDAY DANGIT!

And for my birthday dinner I wanted Mexican. And margaritas. 

The only picture that emerged from that evening.
I blame the strength of the tequila.
Whoops. 

And now its almost the end of November. 

 Almost the end of football season. 

And almost the end of the semester. 

 Wishing you all a Thanksgiving week full of relaxing family time, rib-stickin' food, and winning football teams!

(coughGONOLES/WAREAGLEcough)