Author Archives: Elle Grant

Bayshore Boulevard: The Perfect Place to Settle Down…and Watch Beautiful People Sweat

Tampa is a great city. Fantastic weather. Nice scenery.  And its very own hockey team. Tampa also boasts the longest continuous sidewalk in the world:  Bayshore Boulevard.  Bayshore’s sidewalk is 4.5 miles long, 10 feet wide, and covered with beautiful people.  Sweating.

My sister loves this area so much that she fantasizes we will meet orphan brothers (the “orphan” part makes family holidays a breeze), move to Hyde Park, live a few streets away from our parents (easy access to loyal babysitters), and have beautiful children that will grow up to be cousin-best friends.  Her Plan B includes one of us marrying Tim Tebow and the other marrying a doctor…Medical advice will only be a phone call away.  Her active imagination is one of her many fabulous qualities.  (Gentlemen, she’s a keeper, and I can put in a good word for you…)

To avoid looking like a complete stalker, I refrained from taking photographs of too many people.  (I simply admired them from behind my lens, too busy gawking silently to snap the shutter.)  Instead, here are just a few images of this classic Tampa Bay landmark:

So, while we may never live here (again) or get to marry a Gator quarterback, the Big Guy Upstairs certainly ensures the scenery is worth the trip.

 

 

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Chicago: The Land of Hot Dogs, Deep Dish Pizzas, Tulips on the Streets, and a Lake Like the Ocean

Chicago is known for many things.  Wind.  Lots of wind, for one thing.  Layer upon layer of cheese and meat and more cheese in their deep dish pizzas.  Pickles and tomatoes on their hot dogs.  The L train.  Fantastic shopping on The Magnificent Mile.  And large bodies of water.  If I wasn’t familiar with the geography of Illinois, I would be hard pressed not to think Lake Michigan was the ocean.

Because I am a travel and photography lover (it’s more like “addict,” but hey, you say “tomato,” I say “tomato”), I took “a few” (it’s more like “400”) pictures while I was there.  You can find some of those photographs in our Cityscapes, Odds and Ends, and Wild Things galleries.  Without further ado, however, here are just “a few” (literally) from this most recent adventure:

Navy Pier

 

I do, too!

 

More Kindred Spirits

 

Tulips on the sidewalk

Tulips in the city

And there you have it.  Now we’re back to the land of sunshine, real beaches, and the Florida Gators.  Home Sweet Home.

 

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Graduation: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life…That’ll be Tomorrow, Too…And the Next Day After That, etc…

Today marks a significant milestone in our family. Today, two of my sisters will graduate from the University of Florida. The family tradition continues.

Home Sweet Home

While flying home from Chicago, I got to thinking about things I wish I had known when I graduated. And then I made a list. (Shocker.) On a barf bag. (Oh, the irony…)

For "Motion Discomfort" *and* Note Taking

I will share this advice, advice in which my sisters have already heard a dozen times and which will most likely pass through one ear and out the other as quickly as they dismiss shoes, dresses, and boys. On to the next. However, just in case they happen to feel sentimental at any point, here it is:

1. You can always change your mind. Graduation marks a turning point with endings and new beginnings. That can feel daunting, I know. I’ve been there. We all have in one way or another. The good news is you can change your mind. Whatever you decide, the world will still be here tomorrow, we will still love you, and your feet will still be big. So go ahead. Make a decision. It will all be fine.

It will all be okay. I promise.

2.  There are 365 days in a year. And you have roughly 50+ years ahead of you. That’s about 18,250 days left in your life. And, of course, there are 24 hours in each of those 18,000+ days. That’s about 438,000 hours… My point? You have plenty of time. Lots and lots of glorious time. Enjoy it. I mean, don’t just sit on the couch eating bon bons, but certainly don’t fret about taking a detour or four while you’re on your way.

Plenty of Time

3.  It’s okay to make mistakes. Thanks to Adam and Eve, we’re not perfect. Try not to let the worry of making mistakes keep your feet stuck in the sand. The water is warm. I promise.

"Oops. Let's try that again," is perfectly acceptable.

4.  Travel. Take me with you. There’s a great big ol’ world out there with lots to see. Take some time to see it.

Sign this girl up, please...

5.  Come home to visit.  Tell mom I said hi.

The "other" Home Sweet Home

6.  Remember, you are loved. Sure, love doesn’t pay the bills, but it certainly helps comfort you when the first six job interviews don’t pan out so well. There’s a lot to be said for that much love. I’ll spare you. But just know, you are so very loved.

You're loved. Big time.

So, while graduation may seem a little scary,  it really is going to be fine.  I promise.  You survived (not only growing up with our parents…but also everything else…). You’re well prepared, and great, big, new adventures await you.  Go get ’em.  *And the crowd goes wild as they make their way in the world*

 

**Photos courtesy of starkoutloud.com, nicvee.blogspot.com, fieldandstream.com, toptravellists.net, jewelersfastforward.com, unrad.info, and tickets4sports.com.

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Burning Calories, Getting Laid, and Eating Dessert: Why Being Nice is Worth the Effort

Nice:  “Pleasing, agreeable, delightful.”  Who doesn’t want to be delightful?  Okay, okay, so I know a few people who get off on being jerks.  *You* know who you are.  But most of us realize being nice has its perks.  The server doesn’t spit in your food.  The nieces and nephews and puppies don’t groan when you want to give them hugs.  The movie guy gives you the student discount…even when you haven’t been a student since he started high school.  Plus, it kinda makes other people nicer, too, which has its own “Big Picture” perks.

Well, it's true.

So, as if you didn’t already have enough to do, here I am suggesting that if you’d like to add a few more things to your list, it probably wouldn’t kill you.  I’m 99% confident of that. For those of you who would jump in front of a bus to save a cat, I can’t help you. I’m pretty sure your name is already on the list for spots reserved in heaven.

So if you have room on your list, here are a few simple things to consider taking up:

1.  Make good use of “Please” and “Thank you.”  On the Effort Scale, saying these three words in the context of being polite takes, oh, about zero effort.  The use of “Please” implies that you’re hoping it would please them, whoever you’re being polite to, to do whatever it is that you’re asking.  And the word “thank” is derived from “think.”  So by saying “thank you,” you’re expressing your thoughtful acknowledgment of them and their kindness toward you.

Gratitude looks quite cute on most.

2.  Spend some time with The Big Guy Upstairs.  If you think about all the good stuff The Big Guy has blessed us with, chances are you’re going to be grateful.  And grateful people are usually nice people.

The Big Guy Upstairs. A good listener, among other things.

3.  Spend some time with the A-hole at work.  Every workplace has at least one.  While it’s certainly beneficial to spend time with the nice, smart, funny people at work, it’s also good to spend time with the A-hole.  That way, you get a clear picture of how *not* to be.  Thank goodness for A-holes.  Otherwise we wouldn’t know what to avoid, right?

I was *very* tempted to photoshop a specific face or two underneath this hat...But then, that would defeat the purpose of this post, I guess. *You* still know who you are... xoxo, Lauren 😉

4.  Be honest.   Now, don’t get me wrong.  If your wife asks you if her dress makes her butt look big, and it *does*, don’t say that.  Maybe say something along the lines of, “You know honey, I really love that blue dress you have.  You know the one with the thingys right here” (and then point to your shoulders or something).  I guess, more specifically, be honest with tact.  It will win you brownie points and might even get you laid.  Hey, just stating a fact.

Speak the truth...in a nice way...

5.  Smile.  Shocker, right?  The medical benefits of smiling have been proven.  When you smile, you flex your face muscles.  And when you flex your face muscles, you burn calories. (Yes, I’m aware, not many, but still.  You smile enough, you can have a York Peppermint Patty without having to run an extra fifteen minutes.  As I’m a big fan of not having to add extra time on to my jogs, smiling seems like a nice alternative.)

Hahahaha...If only I looked this happy while running...Just think how many Yorks I could have...

Not only do you burn calories when you smile, you also encourage others to smile back.  It’s a natural response.  Maybe you’re saving someone from a heart attack (or extra minutes added on to their exercise routine) simply by smiling at them and having them smile back.  Now, I’m aware it’s impossible to make someone else do something, but chances are good that if you smile at someone, they’ll smile back.  It’s like magic.  Try it.

"Oh, boy, do I have a surprise for you..."

Finally, smiling makes you *look* like a nicer person, and often times looking the part is half the battle.

So, while being nice probably won’t win you any awards, it certainly has its perks. Getting to eat dessert and getting laid are just a few. Those activities make people happy. Happy people earn places in the hearts of their friends and loved ones. That earns points with The Big Guy, and that, I’m quite certain, helps earn you a spot in heaven. Who knew it could be so easy?

 

**Photos courtesy of amandasummerlin.com, considerthisquote.com, zazzle.com, quizz.biz, s205.photobucket.com, and runningbarefootisbad.com.

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Bigger Discounts, Better Stories, & Being Santa on Random Tuesdays: Why Getting Older Isn’t All that Bad

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “The years teach much which the days never knew.”  Isn’t it strange how the little bits and pieces don’t seem to have a big impact, but when you add them all together, the important stuff happens.  Eggs, ink, flour, paper.  Alone, they’re nothing special.  Together, they’re a delicious, hand-held dessert with wisdom packaged inside.  And so it is with life.

My favorite dessert.

Recently, while having breakfast with one of my college roommates (we’ll call her Rachel), it occurred to me that one of the great things about becoming an adult is that you can maintain close friendships even if you don’t see each other or talk all that often.  I’ve found for many of my friends, we simply pick back up right where we left off.  It’s as if the days and months (and sometimes years) slide away into nothingness, and we’re right back in the dorms or at the old apartment.

Tales of dorm-made strawberry margaritas spilling on my laptop (that was a difficult one to explain to my father…) and going for a run every day at the same time in hopes of seeing that hot guy with the UF cap on warmed us up for the topics to come.

Give him a haircut and a UF baseball cap, and you'll get the idea.

Rachel has an adorable son who looks exactly like his father.  Apparently he is finally talking now (and actually making sense).   Rachel was sharing how having a young child in the house completely changes your life.  “And you know what else?” she said.  “Don’t buy good furniture until your kids are older.  To be safe, maybe wait until they graduate from high school and actually move out of the house.”  For a girl whose only child at the moment is a 6 year old cat named Jack, this advice seemed a little daunting.

“Just the other day, P came in the room looking a little sheepish,” Rachel elaborated.  Sheepish.  For a boy who is potty training at the moment.  That could be scary.  “I asked him what was wrong.  All of sudden, two crocodile tears ran down his cheeks and he told me, ‘Mommy, my stomach came out of my mouth.’  Sure enough, I go into the living room, and there’s little boy vomit all over my couch.  *Sigh* The joys of motherhood.”

Oh, P, one day, when you get older, we’ll swap stories.  You are not alone, sweet boy.  The number of times my stomach came out of my mouth as a kid is quite remarkable.  One day.

Your stomach just came out of your mouth? Yeah. I know the feeling.

After spending some time with Rachel, it got me thinking about the joys of getting older.  I’m at the age now where all of my friends are lamenting the fact that the years keep ticking by and they’re simply not ready.  (I admit, I often contribute to these conversations.)  But after my date with Rachel, I realized getting older isn’t that bad.  Here are a few reasons why:

6.  People tend to do the right thing more often.  While the stereotype is that people, especially men, get grumpier with time (and I have a friend who admits he’s quite ornery about certain topics just because he’s older and has that excuse), right and wrong seem to become clearer.  Sure, children know right from wrong from a very early age; sometimes, however, they follow the crowd and screw up.  As you get older, the crowd seems less important.  And that can be a very good thing.

"A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval." ~Mark Twain

5.  People can get away with more.  Ever give your four year old little sister bubble gum?  What happens?  I’ll tell you what happens.  All hell breaks loose when she manages to smear it all over the backseat of the car.  What happens when an old person gives a four year old bubble gum?  Nothing.  Old people can do no wrong when it comes to young children.  It’s like getting to be Santa Claus on some random Tuesday afternoon, and then again two days later, and then again on Sunday after church.

What trouble looks like right before it happens...

Along those same lines…

4.  Children are fascinated by old people.  Once the fear of suspenders and gigantic glasses wears off, children can’t get enough of old people.  Ever seen a five year old get up close and personal with an old person?  Two soft, chubby little hands go right to the soft, wrinkled, worn-down cheeks and those hands push and poke and smoosh up and down.  I look forward to having my cheeks smooshed when that day comes.

So curious...both him and the kids.

3.  Discounts.  What’s better than a student discount?  A senior discount.  Apparently there are big perks at the tire place and the movie theater for making it to old age.

Gotta love 'em.

2.  Your stories get better.  Ever listen to a six year old tell a story?  Did you understand that?  Something about a dog and an Easter egg?  Yeah, me neither.  Ever listen to a sixteen year old tell a story?  It’s almost painful how many times “like” and “you know?” appear.  Ever listen to a seventy-six year old tell a story?  Oh, man.  They’re good.  Really good.  And “Once upon a time, when I was a young man” is often the perfect beginning.

Sometimes those stories plant the seeds for big dreams.

1.  You’re that much closer to heaven.  And heaven is where you get to meet up with your old dogs and your old grandparents.   I’m not exactly sure what heaven looks like, but from what I can tell, it’s gotta be good.

All that's missing is the people, the pets, and the picnic.

So while there are a few disappointments at getting older (I’m sure not being able to do a cartwheel anymore will be devastating to me), the good outweighs the bad.  And because I’m a big fan of not being dead, I’ll take as many years of old age as The Big Guy Upstairs is willing to give me.

 

**Photos courtesy of fasttrackfundraising.com, collegecandy.com, tanakamusic.com, brucemctague.com, flickr.com, ease1.com, newsfeed.time.com, studentsforliberty.org, and elephantjournal.com.

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Sleepless in Gator Country: When Unruly Sheep Take Turns Shooting the Breeze and Cutting in Line

It’s 2:37 in the morning. You know this because, well, you’re awake and you’ve only looked at the clock about four times in the last two minutes. You’ve changed positions roughly six times, fluffed your pillow, flipped it over, and then gave it a good one-two punch to the sides for good measure.

It looks a little something like this at first…

To make matters worse, everyone, including your cat, is snoring. You know this because you can hear them, well, because you’re awake. As you have to get up in three or four hours, it’s too late to take any heavenly sleep drugs. If only you would’ve known you’d be wide awake at 2:30 am, you could’ve warded off that pesky insomnia with a little modern medicine. Dang it.

This was me last night. This insomnia was particularly painful because I had to be up at 5:00 am. Have you ever watched two and a half hours click by on a digital clock? Pain.ful.

*Sigh*

I, of course, tried the good ol’ standby of counting sheep. Sadly, I’m a failure at this. It’s ridiculous. Those sheep, my sheep, are completely unruly. How is that even possible? Picture a grassy field. Then picture a cluster of big oak trees. Somewhere in front of the oak trees, there are two wooden fence segments. (The rest of the fence is suspiciously absent.) Theoretically, a person, or a sheep, could walk right around either side of the fence. And, *sigh*, that’s just what many of them do. Walk right around the dang fence they’re supposed to jump over. Then there are a few eating grass, milling around completely oblivious to their cue. Finally, there are some over-eager sheep who want to jump over the fence as fast as possible, causing me to lose count after about seven. “Hey, can you slow down?!”  No. They stubbornly refuse. And I have a front row seat for their disobedience. I give up and watch them take a detour, eat grass, or race for some imaginary finish line for a bit. And then I start the count all over again. (I’m not even kidding.)

Something sort of like this…more grass chewing, more wandering…

This, needless to say, is ineffective in trying to fall back asleep. When you find yourself having conversations with four-legged animals in your brain, frustration and embarrassment make it difficult for sleep to take over. After realizing I stink at counting sheep, I tried numerous other traditional tactics, none of which seemed to work. I moved on to new, untested sleep-inducing waters. For example, I tried opening my eyes creating animals and palm trees and things from the shadows in the room. (*Note to Self:  Do Not hang your dress for work up by the closet.  It *will* look like a person standing there watching you…creepy…) As these were also ineffective for the task at hand, I figured I would make you a list of some not-so-good ideas, a list of what not to do when you’re trying to fall back asleep.

When trying to fall asleep, I would suggest avoiding the following:

5.  Think about going for a run.   While it’s great to partake in physical activity outdoors, going for a run when only you, the bats, and the scary people are out of doors is not a good idea. It’s dark outside, and it’s kind of creepy, and by the way this night has been going already, something terrible would probably happen when you’re half way from home, far, far away from anyone awake enough to help you. Thinking about what scary things might happen is exhausting…buuuttt not quite exhausting enough to seal the sweet sleep deal.

Maybe this is what some of my over-zealous sheep see that I don’t…

4.  Plan a vacation.  Or six of them. Or, if you’re like me, fifteen of them. I traveled the world about four times last night and stopped off at all my favorite places like Andros (where the fishing is good) and visited new favorite places like Bora Bora (with a name like that, how can it not be a fantastic place to visit?). Then I remembered my passport expires later this month. And then I started to think about waiting in line at the post office to renew it…and while that certainly isn’t stimulating, it doesn’t seem to induce sleep.

Oh, yes please. I’m pretty sure this is what my heaven looks like.

3.  Curl your hair.  I have a sweet little burn on my thigh from sitting cross-legged on the floor curling my hair, not taking into account that while no, I’m not sleeping, I am, in fact, sleepy, which apparently impairs my sense of judgment. Take it from me, after being burned by a curling iron, you’re wide awake. *sigh*

Sure. This is a little something like how it looked right before I burned myself.

2.  Plan your day.  While this may seem like a productive use of your time, once you realize just how much you have to do that day, the urge to actually just get out of bed and get started is hard to fight…Hence the curled hair and the burned thigh. Save yourself some anxiety and physical pain and plan your day when you’re brushing your teeth. Much safer.

I wonder which color of this planned day represents killing time until the alarm goes off.

1.  Match-make your siblings and your friends.  While playing cupid can be fun, having your sister date your college next-door-neighbor who had an affinity for pot, video games, and anyone named Stacy, is simply not quite as good of an idea in the daylight as it is during an insomnia-induced haze.  Danny, you know I love you, and we know you’re a Gator (and not bad to look at), but on your wedding day, I don’t want to be fighting off images of you playing Madden in your boxer shorts, Doritos, donuts, and Bud Light on your coffee table, the same table you got from the dumpster behind our apartment.

Oh, Danny. You know we love you.

Tonight, I will be sure to avoid all of these things. Although, knowing me and my disobedient sheep, I’ll have envisioned a herd of cows pummeling over any attempted rapists on their way to Tahiti to marry off their mother for the fifth time. To you, I wish you a comfortable bed, a full eight hours before you’re required to do anything productive, and sweet, sweet dreams. Me? I’ll probably go look at my empty freezer for the fourth time on the hunt for something sweet for dessert…or breakfast…depending on how the rest of the night looks.

 

**Photos courtesy of sflchronicle.com, pyschologiesmagazine.be, qi-spot.com, lets-go.com.hr, and trutv.com.

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Saltwater, Sand, and Smiles: Three Simple Ingredients for a Happy Childhood…and a Blessed Adult Life

“They” say everything is better in the Bahamas. While I haven’t had the opportunity to try “everything” in the Bahamas, from what I have experienced (Thanks Bradley – the fishing is always great!), it sure does seem like it’d be better there. In Spain, I was a stalker attempting to catch people at their finest unbeknownst to them (with my very large Nikon…not so sneaky…). In Andros, people, particularly children, were flocking to me.

Not only were they flocking to me, they were happy about it. Smiles were everywhere. Beautiful brown skin and shining white teeth surrounded me for most of my days on my last trip. Now granted, during the day, I was at a school…a school where their motto is:  Learn while you can. So much to say about that…maybe another time.

Instead, here are some photographs of the happy people I had the opportunity to spend my time with. A day with these children offers a great deal of perspective. Their childhood playground consists of sand and water. That’s it. And they’re happy with that. In a time where we are bombarded with advertisements for video games and dolls that cry when they’re hungry, it’s nice to see kids happy with what they have, essentially nothing more than the land and sea The Big Guy Upstairs gave them. I don’t blame them. I’d be happy with that, too. **Fantasizes about a move to the islands** So without further ado, the stars of an island vacation.  (Next to the fantastic fishing, these smiles make it all worth it.)

Maybe it’s because I’ve actually met these children and spent time with them playing “ball and bat” (a version of baseball utilizing a UF squish football I’d brought, random tree stumps and ropes for bases, and our arms for bats), but every time I look at their smiling faces, I can’t help but laugh. Even though they have holes in their shoes and stains on their collars, these kids know how to have a good time. So if you’re feeling a bit overworked and underpaid, consider taking a trip to paradise. The sandbox is huge, the water is warm, and I have no doubt you’ll be welcomed with open arms and, of course, big smiles.

 

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Tabasco, Tebow, & Television: No Matter What, Laughter Sure Sounds the Same in Any Language

I’ve recently come to the conclusion that, well, I’m a stalker. Not a creepy-call-the-cops kind of stalker. The other kind. The kind where I can’t seem to go anywhere without wanting to look and watch people do whatever it is they do in an endearing, non-creepy kind of way. People are fascinating, really.

An innocent person being stalked...Thanks Brianna!

And, of course…

A stalker...one of the endearing kind...and yes. I'm in a dress. In the grass. Smiling. What can I say?

It all started in Spain. In a taxi. On a ride from the airport. A ride in which I thought I was going to die. After skirting death for the third time, thoughts of “Oh, crap, that’s a big bus. And this is a small taxi. Damn Europeans and their need for teeny, tiny showers and streets and automobiles,” running through my brain, I had an epiphany.

Every time I ride in a cab, I seem to have an “Oh my God, we’re going to die” moment. At least once. Every time. Now granted, I don’t ride in cabs very often, but when I do, the experiences share some scary similarities. As I’m still here, apparently The Big Guy Upstairs thinks I still have some things left to do here on Earth. **Side note to The Big Guy:  I know, I know. I’m working on it.  It would help if I got a little cooperation down here. Just sayin’.**

From the fear-inducing cab drivers, I couldn’t help but notice simalarities in all the other people we came across, too. As we wandered through Spain and Portugal on foot, by train, and by plane, I saw:

Grumpy old men. 

Grumpy yet endearing.

Tiny old women.

This little lady is a nun. So sweet, bless her heart.

Happy couples.

Happy couples sharing their affection for each other with the world.

Still working on what the 21 could mean.

People napping.

People attempting to heal other people.

People reading.

People looking perplexed at what they’re reading.

People bonding over beers.

People putting on a good front.

More people napping.

Men and women on different pages.

People practicing their Spanish.

Two Lovely Ladies immediately after a total of 15 hours on a plane, one scary cab ride, and about six blocks of walking with luggage in tow. At least one of them is a Florida fan. And oh, look. She's got Post-its. Imagine that.

And Florida grads showing their love all over the world. 

UF Love in Lisbon

After all that, I came to realize, even though we’re all different, with different brains and different families and different hair colors (natural or salon-assisted), we, people that is, are quite similar. When we’re happy, you can tell. (After all, laughter sounds the same in any language.) When we’re upset, you can tell. (So does yelling…she may have been speaking in Portuguese, but boy, that guy in the red coat was getting a lashing.) When we’re thinking, you can tell. (Eyes up to the sky, forehead wrinkled ring a bell?)

So, while we all have our differences (you like Tabasco, I prefer Crystal; you like Tebow because he’s hot, I love him because he’s a Gator; you like TV for zombie shows, I like TV for away games; you live in Florida because it’s better than New York, I live in Florida for the sunshine, etc.), we’re all fundamentally the same. We have hopes. We have insecurities. We have good intentions. We have crazy relatives, and baggage (the carry on and emotional kinds), and better driving abilities than almost everyone else. We’re simply kindred spirits. And in a world as big and busy as we live in, it’s kind of nice to know someone knows just how you feel.

 

 

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Bikinis, Bragging Rights, & Big Points with The Big Guy Upstairs: Why Taking a Girl Fishing is Worth Your While

Fishing.  A perfect excuse to spend your day out on the water.  And because fish tend to be fickle with that whole North wind thing, no one seems to mind too much if you come home with an empty cooler (no beer left, no fish caught).  Regardless of the fish, and in the midst of all their philosophizing, experts agree:  there’s nothing quite like it.

John Buchan, a novelist, historian, and fisherman said, “The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.”  And hope is the feeling that events will turn out for the best.  A day spent hoping out on the water is most certainly a day well spent.

John Buchan. A man with that many medals must know what he's talking about.

Another writer/fisherman (and priest!), George Herbert, explained about fishing (and life), “You must lose a fly to catch a trout.” Now even if your preference is for dolphin, this idea can be applied to many scenarios, including people.  If certain people in your life end up with terrible nicknames, they probably fall into the “fly” category. No real loss in losing those people, right? Just sayin’. Need to romance a girl? Call her a trout.  No.  Bad idea.  Need to romance me?  Call me a trout.  I’ll get it.

George Herbert. He was a priest and spoke with God on a regular basis. He must know what he's talking about, too.

The trouble I run into is the only person who actually takes me fishing with a big ol’ smile on his face lives in a different country.  (Thank you Bradley!)  While Andros is gorgeous, it’s not super convenient for a day trip.  Because of this, I thought it might be helpful if I made you a list of logical reasons why it’s a great idea to take me fishing, too.  So, here we have it:

Ten Really Good Reasons to Take a Girl (this girl) Fishing:

10. Bikinis.  I believe this one is fairly self-explanatory.

Theoretically, this could be reason enough. Just sayin'.

9. Bragging Rights.  This sort of ties in with bikinis.  When it comes to a day out on the water, men like to tell stories.  Wouldn’t it be nice if your fish stories included a hot girl (or three) to go along with all those giant fish you caught?  I can take care of the hot girl part.  The fish, well, we’ll just have to hope for the best.

"He was *this* big. No, really. He was."

8. Stress Relief.  Salt water (sweat, tears, and the sea) is the cure for everything, right? Part of the healing power of the sea is that a day on the water provides a sense of freedom.  Freedom from what, you may ask?  Freedom from anything that ails you.  Work.  People.  Money.  Sickness.  Fill in the blank.  Whatever it is, amazingly it takes a back seat when you breathe in that fresh air and feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair.  This *may* sound cheesy; however, for those of you who have experienced it, you know it’s true.  And for a girl who grew up in the dirt, I certainly don’t take this feeling of being out on the water for granted.

This guy stressed? Nah. He's looking at happiness.

7. Perspective.  This goes along with #8.  When you’re on a small boat (or even a big boat, for that matter), and you look out at the endless ocean ahead of you, life seems, well, good.  Really good.  In a time when we are constantly battered with everything from new email alerts to breaking news, it’s nice to gain a little perspective.  Whatever it is, in the big scheme of life, “it” is most likely not a crisis.  This becomes very apparent out on the water.

Time on the water leads to appreciating the bigger picture.

6. Patience.  Patience is perseverance. And perseverance, according to some, is grace. It’s the ability to hold the steering wheel instead of flipping the bird and to hold steady when you know (and hope) better days are ahead. (It’s also wishing for a long time that a trip out on the water is just ahead.) Patience. A perfect time to learn this is when you’re fishing. You can spend your whole day waiting for a single fish to bite. And that’s okay. And sometimes, if you’re used to running all the time, the waiting part, that’s the good part.

Take a cue from Gerald Ford. When you're tired of being patient, take a nap.

5. Health Benefits.  If you think about everything you need to do to go fishing (hook up the trailer, fill up the cooler, help the aforementioned hot girl onto the boat, etc.), you burn a lot of calories.  Going fishing may seem like a hassle at first, lifting and lugging all that needs to be lifted and lugged, but once you’re on the water, it makes it all worth it.  Sure there are other ways to burn calories, but at least this is something you can tell your parents about if they ask.

Okay, so, you won't burn as many calories as this guy, but still.

4. Make Someone’s Day.  When’s the last time you’ve brought total and complete joy to someone’s day?  Can’t remember?  That’s a clue that it might be time.  Yesterday?  Great.  Keep up the trend, please.  A very easy-to-please girl is eagerly awaiting her day to be made.  Not only will her day be made, but she’ll appreciate you for being a sweetheart for taking her out on the water…even if you didn’t really want to all that much.   Plus, surely you know The Big Guy Upstairs is out there paying attention.  That just might make His day, too.

Joy. This is kinda what it looks like.

3. Dinner.  How cool is it to catch your dinner?!  I wouldn’t know.  I’ve never really done that before…unless you count chatting with the Seafood guy at Publix as he pretends to toss my scallops over the counter as if they were baseballs… The real deal sure sounds fun, though.  Help a girl out?

Okay, so it's not a fish...but still delicious.

2. The Thrill of the Chase.  If the hot girl is on the boat, you probably don’t need to chase her.  Have no fear.  Your masculine need to pursue something can be fulfilled by that whole fishing thing.  Life’s a trade off, and that’s a pretty darn good trade.

It looks like the chase was successful...

And the number one reason to take a girl (this girl) fishing…

1.  It’s a nice thing to do.  It’s as simple (and logical) as that.

Wise words from a wise man.

So while you may be able to think of 50+ things you’d rather do, taking a girl fishing certainly has its perks.  And just imagine how happy she’ll be that she won’t have to travel 300 miles to get out on the water.  Like Mark Twain said, “Whoever is happy will make others happy, too.”  Just you wait and see.

 

 

**Photos courtesy of outdoors720.com, sodahead.com, openclipart.com, justglasssite.com, backpackingmalaysia.com, freeclipartnow.com, thedancingcrab.com, pinterest.com, and dogsblogs.net.

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Finding the Good in Just About Anything: How Losing Your Lunch Leads to Respect, Appreciation, and Love

Blow your biscuits. Chew backwards. Insult your shoes. Fertilize the sidewalk. Whatever you want to name it, I’ve never been a big fan of tossing my cookies…which is why I was never a big fan of traveling when I was younger. Within two minutes of sitting on a plane with my tray table in its upright position, I was usually keeling over making close friends with the lovely little bag they shove in those seat pockets in front of you. Yes, I’m sure I was a joy to travel with as a child.

My Saving Grace as a Traveling Child

Don’t get me wrong. I was pleasant. I was polite. I was smiling. I was “the good one.” That did not, however, protect me from the rumbling that would most assuredly attack at some point on any adventure involving moving vehicles traveling anywhere past my school…or beyond the local pet store. (*side note:  I was always a sucker for animals I couldn’t possibly bring home.)

"The Good One." I'll give you one guess as to which one is me...

I’ve blown my groceries:

In the backseat.

In the middle seat (on a plane).

On a male flight attendant’s shoe. (I’ve sent happy thoughts up to The Big Guy Upstairs for this guy).

On my pancakes (that was attributed to altitude sickness).

In a blue bucket, on a boat, during a bachelorette party (I love you, Beck!).

In a teeny, tiny bathroom in a super huge airplane.

In brown paper bags.

In glossy white paper bags.

In large shopping bags filled with presents from our trip:

Me: “Mom, I feel sick.”

Mom (absentmindedly): “Here honey, use this.” (“this” being the shopping bag filled with presents from our trip).

Me: Well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest.

*Side note: My mother always took me seriously after this particular event.

Gifts for All...Topped with Love from Lauren

Question: How do you know Lauren Grant is an honest person? Answer: She will tell you up front that it’s not looking good…and then sadly follow through…and then write about it later.

I think, because of my overactive ability to liberate my lunch as a child, I made it all the way through college without getting sick for any reason other than the flu. (I’ve since made up for that. Twice. One time on a date of sorts. Smooth, LG. Real smooth. Question: He pulls over to the side of the road multiple times, waits for you to decorate the parking lot, and the grass, and an ant pile, and then actually lets you back into the car? Answer: Yeah, he’s probably a keeper.)

So, as a child who was not a fan of painting the town green, I developed a survival kit of sorts for any trip involving time in the air. This kit included:

A potpourri sachet (to shove in my face when the exhaust fumes started to permeate into the cabin).

A hoodie to rest my head against the plane window.

A diet entirely made up of Saltine crackers starting a day before the trip.

Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. The ones that make you sleep. 

Sweet Sleep...

This survival kit was so successful that instead of me actually tossing the tiger, my family just drew pictures of me tossing the tiger as I slept peacefully on the plane. All the way from takeoff to touchdown. I would wake up to find napkins with stick figures of me (distinguishable by my long hair and pen streaks like a rainbow coming out of a hole in my head) placed neatly on my lap. Love. That’s what I call love.

Close. But not quite.

As an adult, I have yet to ride the meal-go-round on a trip. **Knocks on wood. Hard.** And so, I love to travel. All the time. Stick me on a plane or a boat or in a car, and I’m ready to go. I write this as I plan a trip across the country (Texas) and a trip across the world (Spain). I’m leaving the potpourri at home, but the sweet sleep drugs? Those are still coming with me.

So while losing your lunch is never really fun, it can lead to respect from your mother, a new appreciation for modern medicine, and signs of affection scribbled on paper napkins. Just like John Wooden said, “It’s the little details that are vital. Little things make big things happen.” So, cheers to tossing your cookies and caution to the wind. World, here I come. I’m ready. Suitcase, sunglasses, sweet sleep drugs, and all.

And off into the sunset she goes...

 

 

**Photos courtesy of sodahead.com, alldayplay.fm, columbia.edu, and 123rf.com.

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