Hello world

So, I just spent the last week in Asheboro, NC for my FIRST Thanksgiving with Drew's family. We had a great time "riding and eating," as my future mother-in-law would say. We would ride from one family function, eat, then ride to the next. I thought I would share the highlights.

I finally ate the deliciousness that is Sir Pizza.

I got to pet (but sadly never ride) some of the most beautiful horses I've ever seen.

Decided I could live off the yumminess of Biscuitville.

By now you're probably wondering why I have limited pictures from a five day trip. Easy asnwer-it isn't too exciting to take pictures when you have gained what feels like ten pounds and the background of your pictures is restaurant after restaurant. Lesson for the next Meggs' family holiday in NC: bring along my FAT pants.

Now that I've returned to the REAL WORLD, I look like a heaftier version of this.

Chaos defined

This week has been CHAOTIC to say the least. Between school, work and commuting, I am mentally and physically DRAINED. Last night after my corporate income tax 2 test (cringe), I met with a representative from a potential new venture. I don’t want to disclose too much because I haven’t decided if I am ready to take the entrepreneurial leap, but this company is really neat. Everything they do falls in line with what I want to do. And I can still work at a full-time job—this would be extra income for me. All is great, right? Well, some may say that I am a workaholic. I will probably never admit that again, so take note now. At some points in college, I worked THREE jobs. I just really like making money.

If I take the plunge and invest in this new venture, my life gets a bit more chaotic. I’ll not only work for SL, go to class and commute, but I’ll add the new venture into the mix.

Decisions, decisions.

After a week like this one, I’m tempted to throw my hands in the air and scream, “why God, why now?!?” Here’s the thing—the opportunity came along at an interesting time—God’s time. Is He cluing me to slow down or is He providing income Drew and I will need? I wish He communicated with a snazzy Magic 8 ball. So today as I process the fact that I mildly survived my tax test as well as a thirty hour work week that ends today (30 in 4 days + 9 hours of classes + 8 hours commuting…you do the math—it’s rough), I keep asking myself, “do I have time next semester?”

In the chaos of my world, I’m trying to stand still. I’m desperately trying to remember that God provides opportunities and will guide me to make the right decision. So, this is my round-about way of asking anyone to reads this to pray for me. Pray that I am not greedy and self-exalting, that I will remember I am not Wonder Woman, and that God is glorified through this process.

By the way, one of my sweet college friends joined the blog world. Check out her new blog here. She’s a quintessential Southern Belle—she definitely qualifies for knowing all things Southern because she had a Deb ball and boasts an impressive Lilly wardrobe.

Over the river & through the woods to Grandmother's house we go...

So, in just a few short days I will be packing my bags, charging the iPod, and grabbing my favorite reading materials for my FIRST Meggs family Thanksgiving. We’re car-tripping for seven hours-6 people, 1 suburban.

Here’s the thing, I’ve NEVER missed a Lucal (mom’s family) holiday. 22 years of perfect attendance. I’m super excited to meet my future extended family, but it’s slightly bittersweet. No walk through the woods at the farm. No attempt to take a cousins picture with everyone’s eyes open and no one laughing. No mom’s pumpkin pie. No snickering at the lecture my brother will get about gun safety. I’ll miss the name draw for Christmas and watching the Rockettes open the Macy’s Turkey Day parade with dad.

I’m struggling.

And I’m nervous.

These people are Drew’s family. I grew up in Brushy Pond, Alabama. I can pretend cool polish, but deep down I’m still a ten-year-old scrapper who wears cowboy boots and jumps in the lake in October just because I can. I played chicken baseball in chicken houses. AND I’m quirky. I’ll be the first to admit the fault. By quirky I mean I’m opinionated. I like odd clothes. I love antiques. I’m overall strange. I think quirky is a polite way to say weird.

So, if you happen to think of me while you’re gorging on turkey and cranberry sauce from a can, send a prayer up that I don’t make anyone raise an eyebrow at me.

Small town

Growing up in a small town is much like having a massive dysfunctional family. You have your sisters with whom you share all your inner thoughts and dreams. You have your overprotective brothers. You have your cousins who randomly appear in your life from time-to-time. You have your Great-Aunt Idas, who you see once a year, but love just the same.

This week my small-town dysfunctional family experienced a horrible tragedy. A sweet family member was killed in a car accident. My heart literally shattered when I heard the news. Although this person was more of Aunt Ida for me, I still felt the pain of knowing her light would no longer reach the world.

My first encounter with ESJ was in middle school. She was glamourous even then. I envied her hair and her style. We ran the high school block together occasionally on nice days. We swapped fashion mags in Wilhite's class when we probably should have been doing something productive. We had table parties at the lunchroom table we shared one semester. She longed for Italy and travel, I longed to marry Drew. Secretly, every girl wanted to be her or raid her closet.

As I posted a few days ago, God's plan is bigger than we can fathom. Although hearts are breaking, God will prevail. I remind myself daily to rejoice in His plan and not question why we must endure tragedy. If you happen to read this, pray. Pray for the family and friends that must endure the days to come. Most of all, pray that tragedy brings restoration.

Broken

Life is bittersweet. Some days we wake with our hearts bursting with joy. Other days we wake with hearts laden with sorrow.

Death creeps like a thief in the night. The very breath from our bodies can be whisked away in a matter of moments.

One thing remains—God’s plan.

Awake. Realize you are mortal. Love with all your heart. Praise God for His sovereignty.

My heart is broken for stolen youth, but God has a plan bigger than we are...

Confessions of a tea-aholic

I have a confession.

My pop is from Ohio. I know, the name of my blog is GRITS, but I PROMISE he is a full Southern convert. We all have a Yankee skeleton hanging around somewhere in the family tree…

One Northern thing my pop and gran (who briefly lived in Ohio as a newlywed, but she is definitely Southern born and bred) can’t shake—hot tea. I’ll admit, I have a slight addiction (add it to the list) to an ice cold glass of sugary sweet tea. Cue a Milo’s commercial. But now as winter draws near and warm drinks are a must, I’m being adventurous and giving hot tea a fair chance.

You see, I work in the glamorous world of magazine publishing. I’m an accountant, but I still consider myself cool by association. Our break room is stocked not only with coffee, but also a plethora of tea bags. One day not too long ago I was staring at the different boxes of tea and looking quite intimidated I’m sure. Alas, my knight in black rimmed glasses, skinny jeans and a Mr. Rogers button down sweater arrived. He gave a few recommendations. I explained I love cold sweet tea. He explained hot tea grows on you. I fixed some just so I would be cool and join the artsy tea club. The rest is history.

Now every chilly morning I’ve made my way to the break room to fix my yummy cup of hot tea. I’m finding I’m partial to Earl Grey. Who knew I would convert? Well, not a full conversion, but enough to run with the glam tea crowd…

Friday Favorites

Since this month marks the halfway point of my engagement to this fella, I thought this Friday Favorites would be all my reasons I LOVE being engaged.

Number One:
I have a blingy rock on my left hand and a HOTT guy who is all mine! I’ve waited EIGHT years to be Mrs. Drew Meggs. You can say I’ve been a little impatient over the last year. Just ask Drew…

Number Two:
I get to plan my dream wedding. My groom is easy-going. He let me have free reign. I even changed venues on him and he took it in stride. Plus, I get to live at home this year and have all the planning fun shared with my mom, grandmother and younger sister.

Number Three:
I get to piece together furniture for my future home with my hubby. This involves lots of yard sale/thrift/bargain shopping, painting, and idea hunting. I love every minute of it.

Number Four:
I can justify new monogrammed items. Yep, I have to re-do all that monogram stuff. I have to buy new stuff—darn (sarcasm infused, if you didn’t catch my drift…)

Number Five:
06.25.2011 will be all about Drew and me. I know this is selfish, but I think it is the ONE day we are allowed to be slightly selfish…

Number Six:
I have assurance that I will be spending the rest of my days loving THE man that God provided. This is awe-inspiring. God created Drew for me. God created me for Drew. For a person who enjoys planning like I do (Drew is rolling his eyes because this is MASSIVE understatement…enjoy, thrives-on, updates calendar minutely, let’s not get technical here), I love knowing that I have a God who knows my every need. He knew I needed Drew before I knew I needed Drew.

So, this means that you now need to check out our wedding website so you can be a part of the big day. Check it out here.