Tailgating Wishlist

Two weeks 'till football, y'all.   I don't know about you, but I've had enough pool time and miserable heat.  I'm ready for cooler temperatures, pumpkin spice lattes, and SEC football.  Just think -- we have two more teams to follow this year!  As we head down the home stretch, I've put together a little tailgating wishlist.  Most any Wildcat fan will find something they need here.

I can't wait to try Southern Living's brand-new Official SEC Tailgating Cookbook.  Great food and great football tradition -- this promises to be a perennial fall favorite.

Of course, I would never slip bourbon into the stadium.  But, this Smathers and Branson needlepoint flask is a rather stylish way to do so, if one were so inclined.

LOVE the Wildcat Plaid.  This scarf is a stylish, understated way to rep the 'Cats at work or a tailgate.

You can't tailgate without cornhole.

These National Champs Tervis Tumblers are a must.  They keep your drink magically cold, and they commemorate the best day of 2012.

This gorgeous Maxi dress from Modcloth is stylish and looks so comfortable.  And, of course, is just the right shade of blue.

Two weeks.  Go 'Cats!

Tradition and Change at Transylvania

Every so often, I hear of a big change at my alma mater. A newspaper article, the alumni magazine, or a piece of gossip from a friend clues me in to something new and different at the old school. Sometimes it's interesting and exciting. Sometimes, it's perplexing. And, more often than not, it just feels a little unsettling. That just isn't how things are supposed to be.

via Transylvania University.

These days, many new and exciting things are happening at the school.  Last spring, Transylvania University welcomed its 25th President, R. Owen Williams, amidst much fanfare. This year's incoming class, the first who'll matriculate fully under the Williams Administration, were recently welcomed (three weeks earlier than we began the school year in the '90s!) with a formal induction ceremony and a commemorative coin.  It's a far cry from our orientation weekend dances and move-in days, that's for sure. Every time I hear of a change, I immediately rehash my findings with my beau with a little disbelief: Can you believe they're doing things that way? It certainly isn't how it was done when we were in school.  

Sometimes, I'm elated to hear of fun little changes to The Transy Way; the UK-TU basketball series is fast becoming a tradition among my friends.  Sometimes, my reaction to the changes comes out of a true desire to learn more. I'm interested to hear the mechanics of the new "August term": How does it impact GPA and tuition rate? How will three weeks of freshman-only classes impact the campus socially and academically? I approached the dramatically abbreviated recruitment plan with trepidation, for some of my fondest college memories involve late-night voting sessions and long hours of planning and practicing those over-the-top rush skits.   And, I suppose, some of my reactions are simply a by-product of my own era. When I heard of the school's quidditch team, I imagine my reaction came across a lot like Dame Maggie Smith's famous Dowager Countess line: "What ... is ... a week-end?" It was simply something so far out of my field of experience that I didn't know what to make of it. The truth is, I just want to believe that things will always be exactly the way I left them. 

I like to believe this is the last moment that Transy made any changes.

 Most of us have built a lot of our self-image around our school years. "I majored in Political Science", "I was a Phi Mu"; these choices stick with us for a lifetime. Our school years were momentous and filled with hope and unlimited potential. For most of us, the worst thing that happened in college was a grad school rejection letter or a bad breakup. We didn't yet know the banal realities of mortgage applications and entry-level jobs. We hadn't yet dealt with true disappointment and loss. We were young and perfect and unformed. High school had been about preparing ourselves to study, and professional school would be about preparing ourselves for real life, but college was about learning how to think and how to be. There's something magical about that, and it's only natural to want to preserve those years in amber, pulling out lovely memories on special occasions.

I spent four years locked in this basement.

From the moment you enter Transylvania's campus, you're immersed in over two centuries of culture and history and tradition.  Everywhere you turn, there's a reminder of famous names of Lexington's past -- the troublesome architect Shryock brothers, the mad genius Constantine Rafinesque, the infamous Belle Brezing.  It's easy to lose yourself in the idea that things have always been the same at old TU.  But, it's simply not true.  My Transy experience is undoubtedly different than John Marshall Harlan's was in the 1850s, or Ned Beatty's in the 1950s.  And, as a friend and fellow alumna recently reminded me, my experience is a good bit different than the current students'.  To be fair, I suppose most Transy kids aren't listening to Nirvana and wearing plaid Abercrombie shirts these days.  And that's a very good thing.

A couple of years ago, I found myself at a wedding reception at Graham Cottage, Transy's alumni house. As the festivities drew to a close, I jokingly texted some Transy girlfriends that I was thinking of crashing some fraternity parties while I was on campus. It was Saturday night, after all. Now, of course I knew that none of the guys on the halls wanted to deal with a thirty-something retired sorority girl busting up in one of their parties. Nor did I think that my palate was exactly up to the bitter, hoppy notes of Natural Light or Milwaukee's Best. (An anthropology thesis could be written on the complexities of each fraternity's choice of crappy beer, but that's another story for another time...) Sitting in Graham Cottage, looking out the window at the dorm-dwellers gearing up for Saturday night, I felt like I was 21 again -- young and carefree and pretty. (OK, probably not as pretty as I thought. See, e.g., Natural Light.) I didn't want to think about the fact that some classmates' dreams came true, while others' didn't. I didn't want to recall that a few folks aren't still with us. It was a convenient fiction to tell myself that the parties were going on just as I remembered. It's simply nicer to believe that things are exactly as I left them.

Bad Decisions and Good Conseqences

We've been talking a lot about school recently here at HerKentucky.  We've discussed selecting the right schools for our kids and for ourselves.  We've talked about making the right decision during sorority rush.  In a way, we've focused on the best decisions of our school experiences.

Holly's book is great. Even Oprah thinks so.

But, for every really good decision, there's a really bad one.  Today, on Salon.com, Kentucky-born author Holly Goddard Jones talks about her decision to get married as a nineteen year-old University of Kentucky sophomore.  There were no shotguns involved, nor rebellion.  Instead, Ms. Jones tells us, she was following her boyfriend to Lexington and she didn't want to let her daddy down by "living in sin."  It was a tough decision, she notes, and one which left her socially isolated on campus. Now, Ms. Jones argues on her thirteenth wedding anniversary, it ultimately turned out to be a great decision both personally and professionally.  Her "biggest mistake" didn't turn out so bad.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of interviewing Ms. Jones for Ace Weekly.  From that experience, I can tell you that her commitment to hard work, good storytelling, and generally being a lovely person shines through, as does her adoration of her husband.  To hear that her "bad decision" turned out to be a blessing certainly warms my heart.  It's certainly a story that resonates with a lot of small-town Southern girls: making the difficult choice in order to fulfill family expectations. 

In her Salon piece, Ms. Jones wistfully notes:

I would be lying, of course, if I claimed that I have not had moments of
depression and doubt over the years, wondering about the course of that
parallel me, the one who did not get married. I wonder who I would have
become if my roots weren’t planted so closely to my husband’s, so that
the two of us have grown not just up but together, into an
interdependent being with the same home and habits, many of the same
memories and broad life goals, the same jokes and turns of phrase.

I question this undergrad hairstyle.

I think we've all been there.  Every decision we make from the ages of 18-25 holds consequences for every subsequent day of our lives.  Most of us have wondered if things would have been a little different if we'd chosen a different path, yet we don't want to negate the good consequences of the paths we took.  What if I'd finished that application to Yale? I often ask myself, then realize that I wouldn't have met my beau or many of my besties.  What if I'd chosen a different field of study or moved to New York, like I always dreamed? Like Ms. Jones, I ultimately decide that, had I done any of these things, I just wouldn't be me. 

We'd love to hear from y'all.  Have you ever made "bad decisions" that turned out to be great ones?

HerKentucky Story: Writer Megan Whitmer

 Today's HerKentucky Story spotlights Lexington-based writer Megan Whitmer.  I had the pleasure of meeting Megan this spring when her brother married my cousin/BFF.  Megan is exactly the kind of person you'd hand-pick to add to your extended family -- smart, creative, cool, and unique.  And she has two of the cutest little girls I've ever seen!  I hope y'all enjoy getting to know Megan as much as I have! -- HCW

Megan Whitmer grew up in Lancaster, KY and currently lives in Lexington. She attended Transylvania University and the University of Kentucky, and holds a bachelor's degree in psychology. When she's not working on her novel, Megan spends her time playing dress-up with her two daughters, drinking absurd amounts of Cherry Coke Zero, and wishing someone would pay her to tweet.  

You can learn more about Megan on her blog, or follow her on Twitter.

Every time I tell someone I’m a writer, I get two questions: 1. A real one? 2. Have you written anything I might have read? (Answers: 1. No, I’m imaginary. 2. Probably not. Yet.) 

I’ve written three books. The first was in elementary school, a picture book called Honey I Flunked the Squids. The second was many years later, and so ridiculously unmarketable I don’t even want to tell you about it. My latest is the first with a real chance at being published. It’s a young adult fantasy called Between, and you can read the first couple of pages of it on my blog.

In case you don’t know, getting a book published isn’t as easy as Amazon would have you believe. 

1. You write a book. 

2. You send query letters to literary agents telling them about your book and asking them to represent your work. 

3. They say no. 

 4. You keep trying. You hear stories of people who query agents for a day before they find someone who loves their book. You hear stories of people who queried for months. You take comfort that some bestsellers were repeatedly rejected before finding an agent. You reread your book and convince yourself it’s crap. You read it again and call yourself a genius. 

5. If you’re lucky enough to find an agent who thinks your book is publishable, he or she will shop your book to publishers.

 6. Hopefully, an editor at one of those publishing houses will read it, love it, go through a painfully long process involving editorial boards and marketing teams, and then your book will officially be on its way to bookshelves. (Or not. There’s no guarantee that your agent will be able to sell your book to an editor. But we’re going to ignore that piece of reality for the sake of my mental health.) 

I’m currently hanging out in step four. There are nearly 350 agents who represent the kind of book I wrote. I queried about 50 of them before I decided to stop. 

After I finished Between, I spent six months reading some really incredible manuscripts, and I realized that my book was nowhere near ready. It needed so much work that a simple revision wouldn’t cut it. 

It needed an autopsy. I needed to take it apart and put it back together again, figure out what parts worked and what didn’t, and at that point, I did the unthinkable. 

 I deleted every word. 

I could’ve written a new book. After all, if you’re starting at page one, doesn’t it make sense to just write a brand new book? I have a few other story ideas I could’ve put my sweat and tears into, but I couldn’t let go of Between. I’m so in love with my characters, and I didn’t want to feel like I hadn’t done everything I could for them. 

So I wrote Between. Again. It took three months of around-the-clock writing. I deleted one character completely, changed the ending, had one of my most loved characters die, and amped up the kissing. (When in doubt, always amp up the kissing.) 

I thought about quitting at least twice a day. In the hardest moments, when my brain was completely broken and I was sure all my words were stupid, I questioned the point of it all. Between wasn’t getting many bites from agents. Young adult fantasy is the hardest genre to break into. Why was I sacrificing sleep, meals, and time with my family for a book that might not get me anywhere? 

Then I reached The End. For the first time, I feel like my book is really and truly complete. It’s everything it needs to be. 

You know what? Between might never land me an agent. But at this point, I know if it doesn’t get published, it’s not because I didn’t give it everything I had. It won’t be because I was afraid to start over. None of my books will ever make it to a bookshelf if I’m afraid of looking at a blank page.

I (Heart) School

My year begins with the school year. Even when I lived in D.C. and no one in my home went to school, the school year was how I organized time. The beginning of school represents a fresh start. The beginning of school means new clothes and unopened packages of pencils and crisp stacks of paper. The beginning of school represents opportunity - the opportunity to learn something life-changing, to succeed at something new, to finally do things right. 

I love everything about it because I love everything about school. Elementary school was fun. Middle school was hilarious. High school was dramatic, but COLLEGE was the best four years of my life.

That girl on the left has NOT a care in the world. The guy on the right is now a PROFESSOR, which makes the girl on the left feel very old indeed.

I know I shouldn’t say that. I truly do love my life now. I have the most amazing husband and the most adorable children and the coolest jobs. But you know what husbands and children and jobs are most of the time? WORK. You know what isn’t WORK? 

COLLEGE.

College is just enough structure and just enough freedom to be the best. thing. EVER. Even the start of school at college is better. My favorite day in the world is Syllabus Day - the first day of class when the professor hands out the syllabus, goes over it quickly, and lets every one go. No homework. No preparation. Just a crisp sheet of paper that tells you everything you’re going to learn over the next few months. Nothing is late yet. You haven’t procrastinated. Everything seems so achievable.  

I celebrated many a Syllabus Day during my four years at Transylvania. I decided to go to Transy because my high school boyfriend was in Lexington and I didn’t want to go to UK. The worst decision-making that luckily led to the best decision of my life. When I look back on my life, my four years at Transylvania were the most transformative.

I learned how to be a good friend. I learned how to be a good liberal. I learned how to write and think and debate. I met my husband, my dearest friends, and mentors that single-handedly changed the course of my life. 

The best part? All that changing and learning and transforming was so much dang fun. Sure, there was drama. That high school boyfriend cheated on me with a sorority sister. I did not graduate with all the dear friends I had made freshman year due to conflicts and miscommunications. I still vividly remember the torture of writing ONE MORE political philosophy essay for Dr. Dugi after Spring Break. At the time, it seemed like the most difficult task in the entire world. 

Of course, it wasn’t. I knew deep down it wasn’t. By graduation, I already knew how special my time at Transylvania had been. Others whined and complained. They couldn’t graduate fast enough. Not me. I knew this time was special and I didn’t want it to end. 

At graduation, underneath those seemingly perfect cherry trees, I cried like a baby. Sure, I cried for the friends I was leaving and the mentors I was hugging one last time. However, I knew I’d see and talk to all of them again. I cried the hardest for Transylvania and those incredibly special four years I knew I would never get back.

I cried that May because come September I knew another school year would start at Transylvania ... and I would not be there. 

~ Sarah Stewart Holland

HerKentucky Business: Rebirth Recycling

Tina Rodgers is a mom, a musician and a small business owner. We're pleased to feature her in today's HerKentucky Business feature. Tina's designs are funky, chic and ecologically responsible. Check out her online shop or make a trip to downtown Frankfort to see her designs in person!

Location:

online: http://rebirthrecycling.etsy.com 

my shop is located at 235 West Main Street Frankfort, Ky.

When did you start your small business? 

October 2010

What are your specialties?  

I take discarded textiles/materials and "upcycle"/ rework them into new fashions predominantly women's wrap skirts and dresses.

Have you had formal training in your craft, are you self-taught? 

I am self taught.  "Necessity is the mother of invention."

From where does your inspiration come? 

I have always been resourceful and feel that we can take whatever is in front of us and create something new.  My first skirt came after my dad's passing... I took some shirts  that we hadn't donated and didn't want to just have in the back of the closet...from those shirts I made a skirt.  It was very cathartic and became a living tribute/keepsake.  From that experience my clothing has evolved into what it is today.

What is your favorite part of owning a small craft business in Kentucky?

I love the freedom to take what others don't want and designing a new life for it.  I also enjoy meeting so many wonderful people.  In my online shop I have sold nationally/ internationally and forged some great friendships through these exchanges. Locally, I have met people in my own town that I might never have met otherwise and have enjoyed getting to know them immensely.  The friendships and feeling of that old world ethic that the customer/client is valued above all else is also a great source of fondness for me.

What makes your products unique? 

I think my product is unique in that I am an intuitive designer.  My degree is in Music.  When you are trained in something it can be hard to maintain a passion overtime.  You censor yourself and don't venture into trusting your instincts completely.  With my designs of a resourceful nature, the intuitive process of meeting someone and custom making a skirt or dress for them creates new textures and color schemes I would never have thought of on my own...it is a "living" process..wearable art.  Each is unique like a fingerprint although my structures are of a simple, minimalist nature.

I love Tina's work and intend to stop by her shop soon. In the meantime, I've been perusing her Etsy collection and picked some definite favorites (UK themed, of course)! I was also happy to learn that Tina loves doing custom work and offers all sizes. 

You? A Sorority Girl? Well, Yes, You Could Be.

When most people think of a sorority girl, the image that comes to mind is that of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde - gorgeous, well-dressed, tiny purse-sized dog named Bruiser, bubbly socialite, and a little bit ditzy. I'm almost positive that none of those adjectives have ever been used to refer to me. Okay, maybe I'm a little bit ditzy. All of this is to say that I am not exactly your stereotypical sorority girl.

When I graduated from high school in 1998, I had absolutely no intention of going through Sorority Recruitment when I enrolled at Transylvania University. Over the summer, people around me suggested that it might be a good way to meet people. As they pointed out, Transy's student population was roughly 90% Greek. My cousin, Emma, happened to be a Transy Phi Mu alumna. She urged me to give it a shot and to go into it with an open mind - after all, I could drop out of recruitment or simply choose not to join a sorority. Emma's influence was probably the greatest because she wasn't exactly the typical sorority girl, either.

You know where this story is going. 

I signed my bid card with a single preference. I wanted to be a Phi Mu or an independent. There was no second choice.

After a short orientation period, I became a full-fledged member. Not only did I gain my cousin as a sister, I instantly gained thousands of women as my sisters. I was part of an organization with a long history of commitment to service, academics and the development of young women.

I wish I could say that I was a model Phi Mu woman while in school. I was not as philanthropic as I should have been. While I managed to graduate with a respectable 3.475 GPA, I was not as studious as I should have been, either. Additionally, I wasn't always the biggest fan of Greek life. I wasn't socially active on campus - choosing to move off campus earlier than most and spending most of my social life with friends who attended the University of Kentucky. Oddly, I was an officer and member of the Executive Committee one year. Even more oddly, I signed on to be in charge of Recruitment. Sometimes, my impulse to volunteer for things is pretty crazy (although we met our pledge quota plus the allowable additions that year!).

It wasn't until after graduation that I truly began to appreciate the positive effects of being in a sorority. I met women like Heather and Sarah - who all seemed like the independent, stylish, savvy, career women that I aspired to be. In search of my first really-real career position, I dutifully listed all my extracurricular activities in order to beef up my resume. I had no luck finding a position - after all, the market was flooded with accountants after Arthur Anderson went under in the wake of the Enron scandal - and accepted a low-paying government job where I had previously interned. I was surprised to get a call for an interview at a CPA firm six months later. I learned, during the interview, that my resume happened across the desk of a fellow Phi Mu alumna. She filed it with the intention to pass it along whenever she heard about open positions. She was committed to helping a sister out!

Essentially, I got my first professional position because I joined a sorority on a whim.

Since then, I've also learned that the things I experienced as a member of Greek life served wonderfully as life lessons. I learned that you don't have to love (or even like) all your sorority sisters or co-workers, but they are all deserving of your respect. I learned skills during recruitment like the ability to make small talk, remember names and details about a person translate really well to networking at business luncheons and conferences. Heck, I even learned a healthy respect for the protocols of Robert's Rules of Order. It turns out that the basic premises are really effective for running a corporate meeting!

While I may never be the woman who cites Blush and Bashful as her signature colors, or buys a "Future Phi Mu" onesie with carnations on the bum, I am proud to say that I am a sorority girl and Phi Mu woman. I will always recommend that other young women assess the Greek life at their prospective university and consider going through the Recruitment process.

Being a sorority girl is so much more than perfect hair and sitting down to smoke a cigarette - it's good preparation for life as a well-rounded woman.