Weekend Retirement

I now understand why the elderly have many hobbies. I had an excess of spare time on my hands this weekend, and to summarize, I was bored out of my mind. Thus putting a paint brush back in my hand, and returning to a hobby of mine that I have neglected for far too long. Completing a wedding gift was an added bonus. A friend of mine will marry her best friend come December and when asking what item she really needed off her registry, she asked if instead I would mind making them a painting. I of course loved that idea. I told her to send me things she liked and she did, followed with a request to pick one and "surprise" her. Since most of them, if not all, were very similar, Kelly and Ben will receive this rendition for their new joint home. 

Even though I felt like I was quarantined this weekend with so little to do, I am so thrilled to have my painting itch back. I know I am pleased with something I've created when I don't want to give it away. The great thing about that - I can simply make another one. Which in this case, I will be doing. Sorry Kelly but this will compliment my curtains nicely.

Tiger Eyes in progress

When my friend Adam passed away a few years ago, his mother received a painting I had done for his then girlfriend to give to him as a birthday present. Coincidentally, if you can even call it that, I painted the last few final touches the night Adam left us. The painting was a set of tiger eyes meant to represent his love for Clemson. Emily, his mother, has been so good to me and is such a wonderful supporter of my re-charged hobby. In another round of interesting timing, she called me this afternoon and told me a contact of hers would be touching base to get 4 "Tiger Eyes". Excited, I broke out my supplies that I had just put away, not knowing when I'd work with them again. With the help of a large porch I spread out my work and worked on each one. The rain that started was little to no help. Paint dries slow when you watch it, but add humidity and you might as well call it a day. So I did. I am so thankful for my continued relationship with Emily, and can't wait to give Kelly and Ben their gift (I'm sure Ben will be thrilled ;)

Adam's Tiger Eyes

Pump Cheese

Many people post on social media sites about their extensive workout or share a picture of the healthy meal they just made. Yea I might tell you I ran a race here and there, but that's few and far between. Instead I'd rather tell you about my guilty pleasures. My love for a nice set of buns, pump cheese, with an ice cold Barqs Root Beer on the side. I'm talking about my relationship with Fuddruckers. Anyone who has had at least one visit knows that Fudd's will never  let you down. In fact even when you try to leave, Fudd's still wants to show you the love by sending you off with a cookie or chocolate shake. I see what you're doing. And yes, I will take 3 for a $1. Are they soft? Of course they are. Like I said, Fuddruckers doesn't disappoint.  

Those who know me best don't even have to say the location by name - a simple "Pump cheese on Wednesday?" is all that is needed. You had me at pump cheese. Throw a side of pickles into that basket and I'm yours forever. Slap a piece of bacon on that burger and there's no tellin'. I know what you're thinking and your disgusted. Insert exercise photo here:

Lungs4Life 5K - Greenville, SC

There's 2 sides to every story. In this case, you either know exactly what I'm talking about and your like, yes, duh, Fuddruckers - 'If I were poor I would literally buy a bun and make the best salad ever because their fixins bar is amazingly on point #pumpcheeseforlife' or you're are on the other side, passing judgement and missing out on one of the finer blue collar establishments of life. In that case, I'm sorry I'm not sorry. Come visit, the meal will be on me. I guarantee a new relationship will blossom. 

Upon arrival to the counter to place my order this evening, Will pointed out the calorie sheet defining my meal. I'm not one to normally count calories, so, well, I didn't. Not that it would have stopped me, but I'm sure one cup of liquid gold is well over the suggested intake. 2 boys conversing over whether to go for the pound challenge or not,  they didn't seem to care either. Decisions, decisions. After careful thought and weighing in how delicious the fries are, he and Stephen took on the 2/3rd combo..... with of course....plenty of pump cheese. Cookies to go, they roll'd us out of there.

The only thing that may rival my love for pump cheese is Ledo's Pizza. A Maryland hot spot, with 1 rare location in the south - Rock Hill, SC. Not sure how it made it down, but I'm not asking questions. If you run into a Ledo's, I beg you to stop and eat one for me. 

Sugar Daddy Upgrade

I grew up in the perfect neighborhood as a kid. The entrance was down a long road you only traveled if you lived in the development, so the idea of being told as a kid, "Go outside and just be home by dark" was the norm. Flashlight tag, sharks n' minnows at the neighborhood pool, riding bikes everywhere, kickball using mailboxes for bases - it was what we did. The circular neighborhood with cul de sac streets was a dream come true for Halloween. Leave the buckets and bags at home, we were rolling with pillow cases. I don't think for one second we were the only group of kids doing big things, but man did we think we were cool.

As you can see pictured to the left, the Hennessey and Eikenberg kids were probably anything but. However, every year my best friend Whitney and I would join forces and hit up street after street looking for the best candy and the "best deals". There would be certain hot shots giving out King Size candy bars, and the couple next door always let you choose between an ice cream cone or 6 Oreo cookies. And you have to love the lone bowl with a sign, "Please only take 1 piece of candy; we are watching". Yea right. What do you think, we were born yesterday? Jackpot. If we had a "miss" we would save that candy, knowing we would put it to good use. Our siblings, their friends, and the two of us would reconvene and host a large poker tournament, playing purely with candy. All in hopes to make the best trades. My mother could never believe we would actually throw a Heath bar into "the pot". My hot trades - Sugar Daddy's for Twix. Sugar Daddy's must have been on sale year after year in my hometown because they'd always be everywhere. Drove me nuts!

My dad would always "check in" for the 3 Musketeers, "Lace, let me make sure it's not poisoned". Very clever, but I wasn't buying it - I'd throw him a bar or two.

Every Halloween I think about the glory days and just hope that wherever I am, the young trick-or-treaters are using their candy to their advantage. If nothing else, gearing up for an exciting trip to Vegas one day. Practice makes perfect.

Hopefully next week Jimmy Kimmel will ask parents to join in yet again, and continue to make their kids feel terrible....makes me laugh every year. (Bros at 2:49 are my favorite)

The October Smorgasbord

 I've been all over the place this October, and with that I have been stuffing my face. Between my birthday, a wedding, and Fall for Greenville - I can't seem to get enough. Other than hitting the gym, what better way to celebrate my caloric intake then to offer you a smorgasbord of meaningless memories and perhaps a look at my menu lately. So grab a brownie, cupcake, entire pizza, and/or diet coke (yes, diet) and hop in line for the Hennessey Hits buffet.

On the morning of my birthday, I arrived at work and to my surprise, sitting on my desk, was a tower of cookies, a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks, a breakfast bagel from Sully's Steamers, and a large ice-cold coke in a Styrofoam cup - these people I call co-workers really know me. It's either awesome or embarrassing. Then taken to lunch, I enjoyed a crab cake and a helping of triple layer chocolate mouse cake. As if there was room, for dinner I topped the day off with macaroni, green bean casserole, Texas toast, a side salad with ranch and a few Bud Lights. Oh yea - then friends brought out an Oreo cake. Of course I ate a slice. 

27 - the year for eat, drink, and be....married? Not me, but the big "I Do" for many friends. 2 of which were Becca and Wes. The wedding was anything but boring and again, amazing food! To Charleston, SC I went and enjoyed literally one of, if not, the best rehearsal dinners I've been a part of. The speeches were absolutely hilarious and I wasn't shying away from the impressive open bar and choice Italian cuisine. Well done Martino clan. Well done.

Back in 2011 I wrote about Annie. That's her pictured with the gentleman to the right. Her...not me. Freakishly she looks just like me! Click here to read the quick background story on Annie and how I found my doppelganger. I received a phone call to meet Annie this past weekend. Of course I obliged. I was so curious. It was hysterical. She was hysterical. If I look anything like Annie when I am older, I'll take it. We met at Red Bowl. Yummm. I left there and went to Fall for Greenville. I have shared my thoughts about #FFG for several years. This year will be no different. 

So excited I even neglected to head to Clemson for the BC game. Instead I went with eating crab cakes on crab cakes on crab cakes, a slice of pizza (or 2 or 3), birthday cake gelato (a few times....hey, it's birthday month), enjoyed a few beers and of course bites of other unbelievably mouth watering favorites from downtown Greenville. Before departing for the final time Will and I stopped by the Gravitron - a carnival ride that spins continuously, sending its passengers round and round so the force actually holds you to the walls keeping you still. Science. It'll blow your mind. Anyway, we were watching on Sunday afternoon....the 'church crowd' had just hit the streets. One daring lady in her late 30's/early 40's decided the Gravitron was the perfect place to spend 7 tickets. In her kitten heals, bright red dress, and what looked to be a wig secured tightly, she showed a face nothing short of terror with each loop around. With yelps of "stop"...."stop"...."stop", laughter ensued. I couldn't help myself. As the ride came to a stop the other passengers let her off first. Like a wiggly, baby deer, and with an "Awww Lawd" she grasped the railings tightly and then went straight to the arms of a gentleman waiting. Sure she was going to puke, we waited a few moments before leaving. Why do we do that? Why do people laugh at the demise of others? So funny. "Stop" "Stop" "Aww lawwd" - hysterical. You should have seen her.

Next up, the biggest and best game of the year so far. Clemson vs. Florida State. Home game this Saturday under the lights in Death Valley. We stopped by the Alumni tent where my friend Bubba was gearing up for the weekend. He asked we pose with the Tiger - content knowing ESPN GameDay is coming back twice in one season or maybe just happy and full with crab cakes, we agreed. Go Tigers!

With a party bus leaving Greenville in the morning, 9 hours of tailgating, and a ticket into the game, Friday can't come fast enough. 

Only half way through October and so much good stuff. Next stop - Halloween.

Oh John

I got a call from my sister Lindsay this morning. 

"I know how much you love John Harbaugh so I had to call you". My immediate reaction, "Oh no, what happened?!", "No, he's fine....". Our discussion continued and led me here.

The important part of a chest bump, John, is to make sure the other person knows you're coming. Lindsay said the video is making its rounds up in Baltimore - Charm City as they call it, and the place she calls home. In the hunk-of-a-man's defense, John Harbaugh is known to do some legit workouts of his own. And oh, p.s. I love him.

At age 50 John was running 8, 300 yard sprints, after 3 hour long practices. 1 year later he still partakes. Members of the security team don't even run with him anymore, because he is just too fast. One bad chest bump, Lindsay, does not distract from the athleticism my dear John shows. Harbaugh even takes on the Ravens own conditioning test....and passes. Read the full article from The Caw, by Ryan Mink, here - a true highlight of his skills from the winning Super Bowl season.

With his good looks comes a sense of humor. Harbaugh cued the video during a film session after the win over the Dolphins. The Baltimore Sun quoted wide receiver Torrey Smith saying "I think it's one of the funniest things I have ever seen in my entire life". What a stud.

With the 1pm game against the Packers this Sunday, let's hope everyone is a little more prepared for sideline celebrations.

60 is the new 27.

Happy Birthday Hot Mama!

I enjoy ice cold cokes in a tall glass. I’d prefer not to share a sip, but I will.  I love a good list. I love to cross things off that list even more. I like to dance…and sing. Even if I don’t know all of the words. I am creative. I can paint with the best of them. I should have made it a career, but instead I chose something different. Something I knew would support my family and get the job done. Or at least hope it would. I have 3 siblings. My 2 sisters and brother make me laugh. They sometimes make me frustrated, but that’s what makes us family. Though we’re all spread out along the East Coast I sure do enjoy our summer vacation in the Outer Banks. I love a good beach day, a yellow and/or black lab, and the sound of Billy Hennessey cackling at the television.  I’d drive a Volvo till the day I die, even if it only has one working speaker. Throw a Clemson sticker on the back and I’m as happy as a clam. Clemson football. Get me to a game…and fast. One of my favorite spots on earth is Death Valley. I wish I could visit more. I laugh at my own jokes. I think I am so funny sometimes. I am very sentimental. I keep everything, though I am getting better at letting go. Relationships are important to me. People are important to me.  Saying “goodbye” is not one of my favorite things. I will talk to a stranger…find out I know one of their best friends…exchange contact information with them…and then become their new best friend. It’s what I like to do. I was born for sales. I don’t want to do sales. I do like to travel. I love to snuggle in with a bowl of chocolate ice cream. I use, what most people would call, an excessive amount of bedding for any normal night. Sheet, comforter, down comforter folded down over top, and multiple pillows. I put on the TV to fall asleep every night. Don’t worry, I set the timer. 90 minutes. Just in case. When I wake up, I make my bed immediately. Everyday. I am a creature of habit. I leave singing voicemails for people on their birthdays. I am a terrible singer. I occasionally snore. I pretend I don’t. I take way too many pictures. You can’t wait to look at all of them. I tell myself I am a great storyteller. I love giving every little detail. I am animated. I use my hands to talk. I wish I was a writer. Maybe I’ll become a professional blogger…or just start my own store….filled with all of my own creations and I’ll sew, too. I make a killer Shepherds Pie. Me and my family could and will eat it for days. I can French braid hair like nobody’s business. I eat my corn on the cob typewriter style and I enjoy a good bowl of cereal. I’m as independent as they come, but love to be surrounded by a group of good people.

I am Lacey – the daughter of Carol. If you know Carol you could read the above statement again, read it as her, and not a thing would change. We are one in the same. I am a product of my mother and I am both proud and grateful of that. Today is her 60th birthday. She keeps Hennessey Hits "in business" and she is one hot mama! With my 27th birthday right around the corner, I thought I'd reminder her that age is just a number.

Mom - from the cinnamon muffins you would bring me on my birthday at Montessori School to the up-do you would give me every prom night, you have always played the role of Mother of the Year. I can't wait to send your picture into the Today Show in 40 years and put you on the Smucker's jar for the big 100! You are one "Spring Chicken"! xoxo

The Bathroom Wolfpack

This post is mainly for the ladies. Gentlemen, you've witnessed the madness, but living the experience is something entirely different and truly... special. I am talking about the case of the bathroom wolfpack. 

Let's start a few hours earlier (before the wolfpack starts to assemble). Ladies you're in the bathroom of your home getting ready. Checking your phone as the group texts are flying. 

"Where are we going?" - - "What are y'all wearing?" - - "Ugh I have nothing to wear!" - - "OMG he better be there" - - "Girl you look great in that, def wear that" - - "Have you talked to anyone? - - "I'm gonna kill it tonight" - - "I just wanna dance" - - "OMG I'm so hungover, I sooo need to rally" - - "What time are we going?" - - "I've already had a few glasses of wine, I am feeling goood"

It's all really captivating and important stuff. Once you figure out where your guy friends are going, and inevitably where you will end up because lets face it - you have no say anyway, you head downtown and decide what lot is best for leaving your car over night. Or maybe just the best place for the least chance of getting towed; whatever suits your fancy. You order a few drinks, girl chat, check out the inventory, then suddenly somebody says it... "I have to go to the bathroom does anyone have to go?". The first round, its early. The wolfpack has only just arrived and they are getting settled at the bar. The chance of having to go alone is high to very high. Time passes, and then....it happens again, only this time..... "Ugh I TOTALLY broke the seal, do you want to go the bathroom?". YES. Now - -I personally can go alone. Call me an independent woman, or someone who just wants to go and get back to the party, but I am one of the few. Walk into any bar after 11pm, head towards the women's restroom, and there you will find several bathroom wolfpacks waiting. There are multiple "breeds", if you will.

#1 - The Lone Wolf

This is me the majority of the time. Like I said. Get in, get out, and try to understand the situation. When you got to go, you got to go. And remember there are, almost always, others waiting behind you. She's visually patient waiting in line, but tapping her foot in her head. Wait too long...and she could turn into "The Wolf".

#2 - The Wolf

Straight up, this girl is pissed. She feels entitled to be at the front of the line and can't believe that the girl(s) that just walked into the bathroom haven't come out yet. 1 minute of waiting, is 10 in her mind. She's in your ear like an annoying mosquito on a summer night, "Did you knock?" -- "How many girls are in there?" - - "God, what is taking them so long" - - "HELLLOOOO we are waiting!!". 

#3 - The Twin Wolves

BFF's for life. This pair isn't going anywhere without one another. That includes the bathroom. This is a hit or miss. Sometimes the wait outside the door is short. My guess, only one had to go and the other was there for moral support. The miss - homegirl had a meltdown and can't believe Johnny Tightpants up by the DJ won't dance with her. Move it along ladies, that's what tables are for at bars.

#4 - The Wolfpack

The 'we travel in packs, get over it' group of females. Going in 6 at a time, they are thankful for the handicap standard size, one stall room. They can all fit, fix each others hair, give a few high fives on how awesome the night is, take a few instagram pics/snapchats, possibly use the restroom, and forget there's a party on the other side of the door. Lets face it. The party is in the bathroom at this point. The Wolfpack loves its. Leaving you commonly here a "hahahhahaha whatever, did you hear her bang on the door like 5 times, what a b****", or there's the "we were really quick y'all". 

#5 - The Possibly Dead Wolf

You think....Is someone even in there? Is the door jammed? What the hell is taking her so long? This is the girl that possibly passed out while using the commode. Or, wait for it, nope - just needed a quiet place to make a phone call. Thanks. The 20 of us in line appreciate it. 



Glad she's alive, you're next. I've seen it all. Last night this girl, a wolf if you will, came up to me after I had been waiting a few minutes and instantly started complaining. After being second in line for 30 seconds she resorted to the male restroom. A fine choice for her, I assume. To my fellow wolfpacks - Be patient. Be quick. Get in. Get out. 

Segs In The City

I know what you're thinking - what a badass. I'll admit, at first I was like a baby deer trying to get her balance. Very uneasy and I definitely moved cautiously. Though within minutes, like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to the motion. You would be, too. 

A few months back Will and I were chatting and I had mentioned a Groupon or Living Social deal, or something along those lines. He had said he was 'only sent the good ones' from friends. So naturally when Greenville Glides had a "Segway Tour for 2" pop up in my email, I passed it along. Jokingly of course; as if this was the best one I had seen yet. Within minutes, the idea of the tour became a gchat reality as to which one of us were going to buy the adventure of a lifetime. This was actually going to happen. A week later when the deal was sold out, selling 175 tours and Will and I not being one of them, disappointment set in. What once was a joke, turned into a "next time". One July morning while brushing my pearly whites, my phone went off with an email alert. A Living Social gem and true surprise. There she was, a Greenville Glides Segway Tour. Without any hesitation I passed it along. Sold.

For the past 2 months I have been watching what I have referred to as the "idiots" ride up and down the streets of Greenville, fully equipped with the look of fear in their eye and a helmet on their head. Most moving at a snails pace, focused on what's ahead, and showing a death grip on the handlebars; they never see me taking a picture with my iPhone. The rest - enjoying themselves so much they'd be the cover photo for the next advertisement. I would laugh (at all of them), and then continue to laugh thinking about myself on one of those baby's. After big cheesin' on a segway for 2 hours straight, I get all of it. Allow me to explain.

Like I previously mentioned, when I first got on, I was a hot mess. You see when you arrive at the place, you watch a video about all the ways you could hurt yourself or damage their $6,300 transportation unit, and then sign a waiver releasing them of any harm....plus I was literally hot. The door was open to the outdoor heat and my roommate Lauren bombarded the scene for a paparazzi photo, catching me very off guard. Could I blame her? Of course not.

Anyway, you hop on the thing and it calibrates and adjusts according to your balance. Then you literally drive it with your toes and heels. Leaning forward and backwards to help stop and go. The handlebar, as I quickly discovered, was merely for decoration and a place for your arms to rest. Will and I both took our test runs indoors and then quickly ventured out onto the streets. Within minutes we got the hang of it and were cruisin' down Main Street as if no one was staring at us. Trust me. They were. Karma is a real bitch. 

We got some good looks, a couple chuckles, and luckily no other paparazzi appearing from the bushes. Which is surprising since many of our friends laughed out loud for several minutes, simply of the thought of either of us on a segway (I'm going to go out on a limb and say that they were laughing mainly at Will...look how natural I look on that thing ;). I do believe I saw one camera, though this woman tried to be pretty sly about it. Like I said, I get it. We looked ridiculous. I'd like to think I can pull off a lot of things, but a clunky green helmet is not one of them. Maybe those with the death grip I saw were just nervous. Nervous due to judging spectators, like I once was. Our tour guide Steve did say there always tends to be one lady in the group that slows everybody else down. My fear was that that lady could be me. Thus leading to my extreme caution when first stepping onto my new wheels. Nahhh....not me. Not on a segway. Like lightning this one. Once we grabbed the brisk, top speed of 12mph you couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It was either that or listening to the man in the overalls (probably named Gandalf, pictured behind me) tell Steve about his dinner plans. That made me smile, too. 

Will and I got lucky and didn't have any other riders on our tour, so Steve got to take us more places than normal. I would highly recommend going on one of these things if you have the chance. I'd definitely do it again. The next time I see a pack of "idiots" segway-ing down the street, I'm going to wish I was one of them.

Look at us go....big cheesin'.

Loose Change

Back in my glory days at Clemson University I spent many a night at one of the local watering holes, Loose Change. Like Cheers, everybody knows your name and if you spent more than $20 by the end of the night, you were doing something wrong. How they stay in business is beyond me. Homegirl here is not complaining. Quality beers for $1.50 and you can order 2 shots split 10 ways and everyone still gets a full one - in fact they are the size of a small beverage. If there was one place they saved money, it was on air-conditioning. Holy hell it would get humid in there. And for some reason the "place to be" was in the long, skinny hallway leading back to the bathrooms. You tigers born in the 90's have no idea what I'm talking about. Privileged with new renovations to 'Loose', the kids raging in DT Clemson these days are spoiled with a large open bar and...wait for it... air conditioning!! AND 3 bathrooms. Little punks. That was unheard of! Bowling a few frames on a giant video game was popular (better still be there), as well as the touchscreen Spot the Difference game fully equipped with nudey pics. To help us struggling college students, looking to get a good buzz and a possible fraternity/sorority function date, cool down they hooked us up with a giant industrial fan located in the corner of the bar. One night (or several) the back of the bar turned into an epic photo shoot. Nothing like a good blast of air to the hair to pump up a glamour shot. The most unbelievable picture of my roommate at the time, Jillian, surfaced to facebook, profile pictures, and still haunts her to this day. I'd post but her professional career is far beyond mine. Her picture is safe with me. Last night another past roommate of mine, Taylor, and I were discussing how ecstatic and eager we are for next weekends home opener against UGA. Moments later we started to reminisce. With great coincidence I happened to be standing next to another industrial fan (I hang out in some great places, let me tell you). As you can imagine I took the moment and ran with it. There are several of these gems. This one making the cut to be featured on Instagram. Got to love social media. Jillian had given more of a zoolander-esque face, but I think we can all agree....I nailed it. 

Loose Change is calling my name, as well as Todaro's, Lot 1, Death Valley, 356, Blue Heron... Ugh, I could go on forever. Amazeballs. #GoTigers

And YOU get a humpback whale!

I grew up in a house with Oprah. Not literally of course, but figuratively speaking. I can remember countless days of my middle school years getting off the bus, grabbing an oatmeal cream pie or bag of cheese combos, and joining my mother for the 4 o'clock treasure. There were 2 types of Oprah shows. The one where she screams "Helllllllloooooo", and gives countless amounts of favorite things away - saying "and YOU GET A HUMPBACK WHALE, AND YOU GET A WHALE, AND YOU GET A WHALE"- or the one where Dr. Phil intervenes on the abusive family, who lost everything in a fire, just after surviving a fight with a horrific illness....or ya know, something like that. Think Sarah McLachlan and the animal cruelty commercial. Terrible. The screaming shows were more my rhythm. Not only because I did in fact like her favorite things, but because of the raging reactions of the studio audience. The Queen of Television has been off the air for a while now, so perhaps you would like a refreshment. What I'd give to be part of this scene...

I am sure your reaction was about the same when you realized Hennessey Hits had reached the 30,000 views mark. I know - me too. I wanted to give out humpback whales, lasagna pans, watches, and 7 day cruises much like the daytime television diva herself, but have you mailed anything lately? The U.S. Postal system has been taking their sweet time, and it would just take too long. So instead I am just going to give you a glimpse at Hennessey's Favorite things - all wonderfully within in your price range (no doubt) and you can enjoy as true celebration of my 30,000 mark. Eat your heart out and as always, thanks for reading.

Breadstick Boycott

Don't worry, this look was temporary

Somewhere a marketing or sales team at Victoria's Secret is calling me a sucker. They get me every time with these emails and direct mail coupon cards. Come "Black Friday" I am usually the one giving people a hard time about shopping for things simply because they are on sale - seriously I even put these people into levels, click here to read my thoughts on that mess - but for some reason Vicky's gets me every time. This summer, 3 bathing suits and plenty of extras later, I found myself venturing to the mall again with a "free panty card" (yes gentlemen, they send us free delicate's), $10 off cards, etc, etc. Like I said they know what they're doing. Anyway, I did some shopping and browsing among other stores, and then quickly realized it was nearing dinner time. I went to the food court. I chose to eat a meal from Sbarro's. Some kids never learn. In this case, that kid was me. It wasn't till after my next story that I remembered my experience from this past September. If you missed out - by all means, catch up quickly and read my tale of the breadstick.

http://hennesseyhits.blogspot.com/2012/09/dont-eat-food-shaped-like.html

I ordered the same meal. A slice of cheese pizza, a breadstick, and a medium Pepsi. For your reference - I'm a Coke girl, but that wasn't my option. Anyway I sat down again, alone, and enjoyed my dinner with my pink shopping back of treats in front of me. Like anyone eating by yourself in the mall food court you resort to looking at your phone while you grub...so you aren't awkward? Is that why? I guess I forgot I was already alone....in a mall food court. Again. Damn you Chic-Fil-A for being closed on Sunday's. 

I noticed a guy sit down to eat in front of me. A black gentlemen in his mid 20's who chose to get a plate of Asian cuisine. He wasn't there long before he boxed up his food and what I thought was about to walk past me. Instead, he somehow/somewhat lost control of the bag of food and began to pretend to spill it on to my table. Luckily the juices from his Asian dining experience remained in the flimsy white grocery bag. He apologized profusely. "Not a problem", I reassured him and back to my phone my focus went. Suddenly disregarding the food incident completely, he asked if I could give him my number and if he could take me out sometime. This kid doesn't waste any time. With my cell phone in hand, I went with - "Aww thanks maybe if we run into each other again". He followed with "Well, I'm really shy and you're beautiful". I again denied his bold, not shy, kind offer and he said "Ahhh man I gotch you, I got that time. Stay beautiful" and went on his way. First of all, the above grease ball of a picture was what this kid was looking at. Truly I'm flattered. Even I'll admit I was looking far from 'public ready'. Possibly ready for more of a Sunday Wal-Mart trip. Then I had a thought. Maybe that's what all the mall walkers are up to these days. You see these ladies where tennis shoes and walk the mall for exercise. Is that their version of a "Frat Lap"? I did look I came from the gym. Get it ladies.

With that I cannot stress enough that I will not be eating Sbarro's alone in the future. Specifically the breadsticks. Auntie Anne's is just going to have to be my new BFF mall snack. Or better yet, I just need to stay away from the mall.  VS - stop sending me coupons. Like free samples at Sams Club or Costco, if they are in front of me, I will continue to consume them. #FoodCourtProblems

Blurred Lines

A little rain never hurt anyone. Or in this case put a damper on the Black Keys and Flaming Lips concert. With a forecast of never ending thunderstorms I wasn't too sure how it would all pan out. The rain stopped just in time for our 2 party buses, seating 46, to travel to Simpsonville, SC for the outdoor show. Regardless of the occasional mud pit and intense line to enter the place, it was a success. I don't believe we lost anyone - and its been a day or two so you'd think I'd hear by now, and as far as I'm aware the buses were left in great condition, too. Overall a big win. Not so much for my rainbow flip flops. Those might be chalked up for a loss. Come Saturday I was ready to do it all over again. That is after staying in bed until Noon and following it up with a brief nap at 2p. The 3rd Annual Swanson Summer Fest party was upon us and I wasn't going to let anything get in the way. All you can eat and drink for $25 that goes to a good cause. This year the money raised goes towards supporting Greenville's Cancer Survivor Park and Brianna Webster, a local teenager who has been battling pancreatic cancer and injuries sustained in a recent car accident in which she also lost her father. A terribly sad and touching story. The turnout to the party was phenomenal and it's great to know that we possibly made Brianna's road a little easier. I applaud David and the rest of the guys who helped throw this years shindig. As well as the few they throw each year. Not only are they fun and well put together, but they manage to help someone in the community. It's always legit - Mustache March, and Swanson Festival of Lights. I could go on and on about Saturday and how great it was, but I thought a visual may be better than my words. Cheers!

Dammit Frank, Keep It Together

I went to Charleston, SC for the 4th of July. Well, rather Wednesday the 3rd, Thursday the 4th, Friday the 5th, and what should have been the night of the 6th. Homegirl here didn't make it to any activities on Saturday. I made the adult decision for my health, wallet, and probably overall dignity to scoot out of town and head back home early. I consider myself one of the lucky ones to have wonderful friends who offer places to stay, share cab rides home, and give support like this gentlemen to dear Frank. I say that because I went out with a bang on Friday. I was feeling good. And I thought I was looking good, whether I was or not - thanks to a few kind words from those around me. Sir bartender on the rooftop at Stars had quite the heavy hand and a handlebar mustache to make any grown man jealous. Throw in my favorite holiday and you've got yourself the perfect storm. Waking up to the beautiful face of my friend Charles in a house I was unfamiliar with was more than comforting, but rather confusing. Once I heard the voices of a few others I recognized, I knew - like Frank - I was good to go. But by go, I also mean it was time to go. Till next time Charleston. You were good to me, and I certainly was good to you. 

Once back in the motherland of Greenville, beating the majority of all holiday traffic, I did what any respectable 26 year old nursing a 3 day hangover would do - nothing. It was glorious. Movies on movies. Sunday, a little different. I got up and went golfing. Back to the driving range I went. This time alone. Call it luck, call it improvement, or please - natural talent, but damn if I didn't hit that ball straight and to the 157 yard marker. Trust me I texted a source immediately. Followed with "Is that good?", because of course I had no idea. I was just thrilled to get the ball in the air. Luckily no one was around so I had the chance to be a total tool and video myself for evidence.

Continuing on my path of athleticism, for this week at least, I went on the first of many runs with my marathoner-triathlete of a friend, Melissa. Like a gazelle that one. Never stops running. Impressive. I was fearful but 29 minutes and 3.2 miles later we returned home sweating like we stole something. Again, to hell with being modest. I haven't ran that far in a while. I'll give myself the ol' pat on the back. Especially because of this story. It's one of my favorites to tell. When I first moved to Greenville I dated this guy who was hilarious. We were always laughing and calling each other out on things. One day, when we were eating, because that is what we did best, we somehow brought up high school and I said I could just get up and run. What I was referring to were the glory days of lacrosse try outs and soccer practice - probably 25 lbs lighter and flat chested. Seriously. So he, knowing that, said 'how far do you think you can go?'. I said, 'I mean I could probably run like 3 miles'. He burst into laughter. He knew I was in terrible shape and I was. I had no idea what I was talking about or how far 3 miles was anymore. So he challenged me. He said 'Ok you think you can just get up and run 3 miles?' - 'Of course I can' - 'Ok great tomorrow we will go up to the Mauldin High School track'. My excuses started to flood out of me. Without fail the next day we went to the track. He took a book to read, had a stop watch for fun, and provided me music and headphones. If I were to succeed with my 12 laps, dinner anywhere in Greenville on him. If I failed, I paid and it was his choice. And with that I was off....4 laps around and I ran right past him and straight to the car. He yelled, 'Wait, where are you going!?!'. Both laughing hysterically, it was an epic fail, and I treated him to Subway. A nice healthy alternative. He owned a bulldog and he told me he knew I wasn't going to make it by my first lap. I asked why. He said I took off like a bat out of hell, then by the third lap I sounded like his dog coming down the home stretch. If only you could hear the impression. I was dying. Like the fat kid with asthma on the movie Little Giants. A few months later that flamed fizzled, but the motivational fire was lit. I killed my first 5K and continued to do more. It's amazing what humiliation can get you to do. Thanks Matt. 

Now on to train for something bigger. Some others are on board which to me means road trip! If I plan to run for the reason of running, I want something exciting at the end. Suggestions welcomed!

The Year of the Gaucho Pant

During the fall of 2005 there was a terrible pant invasion, and I admit I was part of it. They were everywhere. A thin yoga-bell-bottom-capri pant, if you will. They were known as the gaucho. Any decent sorority member had a pair in black to match her trendy letter t-shirt she was so proud to wear, and the real sorostitutes had them in several colors. It was the classy sweatpant. Roll out of bed, or match with your pearls, either way the dining hall and library were ready for your sweet cheeks to come strutting in. Add a pair of Rainbows on your feet and croakies hanging around the neck and the frat daddy's heads were turning. Or were they? I recently took a look back at albums on Facebook. Like Buzz's girlfriend - - Woof. Delete. Delete. And then I clicked delete, again. The year of the gaucho was terrible. Sophomore year to be exact. Killer in the terms of raging, but Dear God Lacey what were you thinking in terms of my wardrobe. For the Clemson fans - Explorers, the Ski Lodge, the Lakehouse, the quad, TTV, dt, and more...but for "Flash" - the digital photographer that took pictures at parties - probably literally a killer. Gaucho pants everywhere! The real bonus...elastic waistbands. Unfortunately some of us homegirls had figures to fit the pant. I'll go out on a limb and take a guess that like rompers and sock buns, unless you were already attractive, they weren't helping anybody. In some of the pictures I found it looked liked my face had been stung by a swarm of bees. Thank goodness for my strong sense of humor. 

Turns out this sweet fashion trend hasn't completely died. You can still score yourself a pair at your local Target, right next to the Jeggings - spandex denim with fake pockets and belt loops. 1 trend I'm proud to say I've passed on. 

So go back in time. Check out the invasion of the infamous gaucho pant that swarmed campus' and classrooms everywhere. Or perhaps, that's one year you'd rather just forget.

"I Don't Care, I Love It"

I'd say these are the icons most commonly needing a close out on the ol' iPhone. I text, I check Facebook and Instagram, and I certainly am improving my BikeRace skills. All make red lights or traffic a little more enjoyable. My latest addition - Snapchat. You may be skeptical. I certainly was. 

Perhaps that's why my screen name for the app has nothing to do with my real name. I go by MadisonFairway. Why? Simple. Possibly like you, when I first heard of Snapchat and what it does my mind jumped straight to  'sketchy'. An app for your phone where you can send pictures to your bank of friends/contacts to last any number of seconds, up to 10, and then disappear forever. What would you need to send that you would never want anyone to save? An entirely new wave of "sexting"? Is that what my friends were doing? Surely not, because they were talking openly about it and from whom they were receiving snaps. I steered clear. For a little while.... Then curiosity got the best of me. Still sketched out of the possibilities, and more so of the app informing everyone in my contact list that I joined, I made an alias name.  Now - knowing how its used and who all is on it - I can't change my damn name. So every time I send a request, I hear "Who the hell is MadisonFairway?". Luckily my friends have a mind as curious as mine, so they accept the request.  Instantly they are told it is me. 

When I found out that snap chat had video capabilities, I was overjoyed.  I'd say the majority of the ones I receive (and send) are from a car or bar. Miniature music videos or 10 seconds of someone enjoying a beverage and letting out a good 'ahhh' after the crisp taste of refreshment - thank you to friends Hunter, Jonathan, and Fitzi for making each day (literally) that much more enjoyable. Your Snapchat's never get old.  I received the text message to the right the other day following an 8 second jam session, probably to that of Icona Pop's "I Love It". Apparently I keep the air conditioning up too high and it's bringing to much A-Game to my videos. Sorry, Rocky, there is a pop diva within me and she's begging to be discovered. How embarrassing.  Other crowd favorites I've received - a Bruno Mars jam session from @TreyPlaysMusic, and ongoing guessing games of "Where am I?" - be gentle with that one.

Overall, I'd  say my feelings about Snapchat are just like that of passing notes, 

regardless of the content, at least you got one. 

Watch the video #TreatYoSelf