ten hours to texas

Today I drove home with my pops - ten hours to Texas. It's a long drive, but I tend to enjoy it.

While trying to satisfy both my dad's music tastes and my own, I suggested some James Taylor. My dad put it on, and was clicking through the shuffle for a song that sounded pleasing to his ears. On came 'Close Your Eyes.'

When I was little, my mom always sang this song to me as a lullaby when she tucked me in. Of course, at the time, I never knew it was James Taylor.

What a cool mom for singing me to sleep with some JT. That's all I'm saying.



sleep tight,
annie fannie

thanks

for Home;

mom, dad, brent, & austin;

spanky too.

for Texas;

mexican food, state fair, bigger & better;

proud.

for Milton Avenue;

pay day, tetherball, videos & the backhouse;

stimy89.

for Mineola;

birthdays, haunted houses, four-wheelers & old chairs;

bon qui qui.

for Nashville;

coffee shops, the village chapel, grimeys & the belcourt;

second home.

for Belmont;

music, the quad, caf waffles & v-necks;

bruin pride.

for Santeetlah;

labor day, bon iver, acquaintances & then friends;

potential horror film.

for NYC;

balconies, ashlee simpson, cupcakes & susie’s;

MLK Jr.

for Rock Island;

cigars, cake, s’mores & moonshine trail;

happy 0^th birthday.

for Fifth Floors;

stairs, roommates, jeep rides & hat shops;

molly.

for 514;

chocolate, cashews, ichats & lip syncs;

rodgers.

for Branson;

humidity, pea gravel, 12-year-olds & amazing race 2012,

kamp.

for 529;

christmas, records, pumpkin spice, & shiela;

selby.

for the Clubhouse;

dry erase boards, LaFontaines, pizza & movie nights;

chubby hubby.

for Knoxville;

road trip, bijou theatre, cereal bar & snow;

sufjan.

for Everywhere,

every smile, every occasion, every inside joke & every friend;

counting my blessings.

mineola & more

Naturally, when I have lots of things to do, I like to blog instead. Recently I've been blessed to talk to some good friends from home on the phone, and it reminded me of how I got the name of this blog in the first place.

Almost four years ago to the tee, on the weekend of October 18 sophomore year of high school, I was invited on a whim to go celebrate an acquaintance's birthday at her farm in Mineola, Texas, about an hour and a half away from Dallas. While we knew each other from school, we didn't really associate with each other outside of class, so it was a bit odd that she invited me, but I didn't have anything better to do so I went for it.

That weekend we partook in a haunted house adventure (scared out of our minds by the local high schoolers in clown costumes), cooked sausages over a fire, tied a rope to a chair and rode behind a four-wheeler, and fed the cows. That weekend was also the beginning of my friendship with Jenna, who had invited me, and the rekindling of my friendship with Margaret, whom I had known throughout the years but had never really spent time with. Little did I know that that one weekend would be a life-changing one. Now, four years later, we are hundreds of miles apart - Jenna goes to Colorado State, Margaret's down in San Antonio at Trinity, and I'm in honky-tonk Nashvegas, Tennessee. I would give anything to go back to Mineola next weekend with those two.

That Mineola trip was the first of many to come, and almost a year later, we returned for an august summer adventure. This time, we decided to float the "river" (which was really a creek with a foot or less of water) in an inflatable raft made for two people (and there were three of us). Because it was only made for two people, the only way we could really fit is if we all, for lack of a better term, straddled each other, with our feet over the edges of the tube. I was in the middle. Jenna and Margaret are naturally tan individuals. I am not. With her unique laugh, Jenna remarked something to the effect of "look! it's an anne tanwich!" as she took a picture of the stark difference in the color of our legs (seen here in exhibit 1):


I was definitely a happy camper.


Needless to say, it was not the most successful raft trip, as we hit rock bottom at one point, popped the raft, and ended up having to walk the rocky shore line all the way back to the house. What should have been a one hour float turned into a three hour adventure with me getting out to gather lost paddles and other various items the majority of the time because Jenna was convinced that there were alligators amidst the waters and Margaret believed her. That being said, I wouldn't change a thing about that trip, and I wouldn't trade these two for the world.


love,
anne tanwich.

october 1st

I woke up this morning and had this great feeling. That feeling of waking up on a december morning after the winter air had invaded your room overnight. It's cold but you like it, and you head downstairs following your nose to the kitchen where your mom had started fixing breakfast - coffee cake and eggs and bacon. Then you go snuggle into the sofa with your coffee mug warming your hands and your heart, listening to the crackle of the fire, and it's not until then that you realize it's Christmas day.

So maybe I woke up today and realized that I wasn't at home on Christmas day in my comfy bed with bacon on the stove downstairs and coffee waiting to be sipped on. Instead I was in a dorm room. But I found that instead of disappointment, I felt contentment. I swung my legs over my lofted bed, fixed a bowl of cereal, put Nat King Cole on the Crosley, and settled into my hammock. Molly and I decided that because it was October, it was now officially fall and the season of holidays. Which is the best time of the year. And the reason I felt so content this morning is because I have decided my favorite part of my everyday routine is waking up in the room, feeling at peace with no cares in the world. There is absolutely no feeling of being rushed... we eat, drink coffee, read, journal, have a quiet time, and listen to the record of choice for the morning. Not a bad way to start the day.

This morning, I opened the book "Bittersweet" by Shawna Niequest, and sure enough, the chapter is called 'love song for fall.' She talks about pumpkins and changing leaves and moving forward as seasons change. She elaborates on how we were made to create and how it makes us feel whole and alive. She notes that there really is no need for another artist in the world, but then interjects, saying that the world may not need another painter or musician, but you might. Sometimes it is so easy to put aside your craft - whatever it may be - and just do mindless work: clean the kitchen, do your laundry (read my accounting book...). But as an artist, sometimes you just have to set that stuff aside and focus on your craft. Get off your butt, get off that wifi you're stealing from your neighbor, and create.

Sometimes all we need is someone who is pursuing their own art to be right there beside us for that boost of creative energy. Shawna talks about going to a coffeeshop to meet a friend, and while they don't talk much, they both know they're there for each others encouragement. That being said, I think the best friends you can have are those whom you can share silence with and not feel awkward, but at peace. And while Shawna focuses on honing your craft, your innate drive to create, there's also something to be said for enjoying those artistic endeavors of others - music, literature, paintings - whatever they may be. One of the greatest artistic endeavors I marvel at is the world that was created for us to live in.

While this morning could not be better as of yet, the plan for tomorrow morning involves a walk to a coffeeshop, the outdoors (tis the season), and Harry Potter. Oh, yeah.

love,
anne

hipster faith

I'm guessing that if anyone reads this blog, they know I go to Belmont, and if they've talked to me about school, they know a thing or two about how it's slightly different from your average American university... We don't have a football team. If you don't play an instrument, you're in the minority, because we 'do' music here. Guys roam the campus in brand-name skinny jeans and v-necks with their hairs all did up (nothing wrong with that, just different). All of this is to say that Belmont is, when it comes down to it, a 'hipster' school, or at least the hipster factor makes up a large majority (but we do have a whopping three sororities!).

The other day I was looking on google images for a potential computer background photo of Sufjan. Instead, I came across this article. It's all about the new 'Hipster Faith' that has emerged... everything in this article describes Belmont (and myself, to be honest) to a tee. The reason I came across this article in the first place is because it mentions the popularity of musical artists like Sufjan among our generation. And while it points out the good things about our generation and how we live out our faith, it points out what needs to be fixed as well. It's a good read, it's relevant, and it's where my mind is at, so I thought I'd share it with anyone and everyone.

Love,
Anntie Anne

P.S. I'm on facebook & twitter hiatus right now (indefinitely)... so please stay in touch through things like this blog or phone calls or talking in person (preferable the last option, unless you don't live in Nashville).

gimme s'more

I've been trying to think of something to post about for the past couple of weeks but haven't found myself in the 'mood' to blog - not to mention that I couldn't really think of something worthwhile to share. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of events and emotions, chill time and non-chill hyper time, lots of coffee & cereal, hours spent hammocking (in my room), with lots of attempts (some successful, some not) at music making, and the whole "oh yeah I'm in college to get an education, but what am I really going to do with my life?"

I have no idea. And the stress of not knowing what the future holds seems to be on the minds of everyone I know here at Belmont... it's something everyone has - that whole "mid-college life crisis" thing. Today my dad came in town and asked me how things are going, jokingly adding the "You aren't in the sophomore slump, are you?" I didn't even give myself time to think of the question before I answered... immediately I began to list of things I was involved in to prove that I was spending my time wisely, even though I really have no idea what spending time "wisely" entails. Is it more important to cram for that test the next day, or spend time with the friends who will last you a lifetime instead of 3 credit hours one random semester? How about that movie at the Belcourt? Waste of time?

I think the conclusion that is beginning to take form in my mind is this... college is another four years of your life you get to spend "growing up" (as they say). Does anyone really go to it for the diploma? High school is a pre-mature version of college, as you still live with your parents. You go off to college - and life never seems as exciting as it does your freshman year. Everything and everyone is new (at least in my case where I ran off ten hours from home to a small private school), and you get to do whatever you want. Cafe Coco at 12 AM? Hell yeah.

Now that it's sophomore year, you've got everything down. Not so fresh like freshman year. Now that I'm knee-deep in college waters, I'd like to think I'm ready for more intentional conversations - meaning what you say, and saying things that have meaning... past the shallow get to know you's and small talk. Putting the "s'more" in the word "sophomore," instead of letting it become a slump.

Belmont has encouraged us to "Live a Better Story" this year. A couple weeks ago, Donald Miller (author of Blue Like Jazz and A Million Miles in a Thousand Years) spoke to the student body and everyone at the event was given an envelope with either a $5, $10, or $20 bill with the reminder that it was (and is) God's money. With the money was a short Bible study and instructions to multiply the money in some way to "Live a Better Story." Do I have any idea what I'm going to do? Nope. But I'm excited for this opportunity... what a cool way for Belmont to encourage the student body to be serve.

Right now, I'm feeling my feet drag a bit. I want to serve, but I don't know how, or when, or in what capacity it will be... I want to have more intentional conversations but find myself caught up in the drama of the day even when I don't want to be. It's okay. That's life. But the goal of this year? Live a better story... The encouragement? "Shun the cravings of youth, but pursue righteousness, faith, peace and love along with those who all on the Lord with a pure heart."

love,
anne

back in nash

I've been back in Nash for a week and life has been different. Ain't in Branson or Dallas anymore. It almost feels like I never left, but at the same time, I find myself walking around campus seeing 1,400 new little freshman faces, not eating at the caf half as much, and living in a new dorm without blood on the shower curtains.

Besides that, there's not really much to report on. Getting back into the groove. When I have something interesting to write about, I'll come back...

anne