My Mega Exciting Life: I'm just so embarrassed, smell ya later!, bun in the oven

Please let me start tonight's post with a passage from the novel, Megan Venable Smith: The Dumbass Years. As opposed to our regular readings from the tabloid, Megan Venable Smith: Expose!

I'm lucky to have known both my grandmothers for the majority of my time spent so far on earth. And I'm especially lucky because despite the fact that both my grandfathers died before I was born, my maternal grandmother married again when I was three and I grew up with a grandfather figure (shout out, Steinie!! Whoot, whoot!). However, all my life I have been inexplicably drawn to my paternal grandfather, Sam Venable, Sr., aka, Grandaddy. Again, never met or knew him.

My paternal grandmother, Grandmommy, lived in the old family home that Grandaddy built himself until the time I was a sophomore in college. So I grew up visiting her home. Which, in case you don't know anyone like me, didn't change much throughout the years. Renovations came with need, not desire (much like myself may I once again add). That said, the decorations rarely, if ever (oh who do I kid, they NEVER) changed. Which leads me to this point.

I knew this about Grandaddy. I knew he was a professor at UT in Physical Education. Throughout the years and through the many chortle-and-chuckle-and-laugh-out-loud remembrances, I gathered he was a wonderfully dedicated and amusing father and husband, severely overweight, yet adamantly (and ironically) dedicated to his students and their performance physically in his classes. Knowing this: pepper it with a working dedication to UT sports. He served as a referee during basketball contests and was a linesman during UT football games.

No one ever took the care to annually tour me through the old Venable home. Which is why, year after year, the photos and captions ultimately took on a life of their own. This brings me to a large, old black and white photo, beautifully framed and matted, of a fedora'ed man crouching with the Vols football team back in the day. This hung in the Venable family home since before my time until this day. I grew up assuming the man in the fedora was, in fact, my Grandaddy.

ummm... this is robert neyland. as in, neyland stadium.

I am too embarrassed to tell you how old I was when I found this out. Ok, go on and twist my arm.... *twist, twist* I was 18 and in college. NO ONE TOLD ME. Hello! It was a huge framed and matted photo of a man in my grandmother's house! How was I supposed to know?

In other news, Neyland Stadium got a jumbotron renovation:

OMG. OMG. O.M.G. it's grandaddy venable/general neyland on the jumbotron of neyland stadium endorsed by PILOT OIL! i'm the luckiest girl in all of knoxville!!!

In more distinguished news.... oh wait... I just remembered what my next item was about... Ok, so in LESS distinguished news:

I am a member of a book club; in fact I titled it "The Other Boleyn Girl Book Club." Um. It got titled because I read that particular book and recommended it so heartily, monthly, and no one else liked it. So the name stuck out of irony. Sigh. I guess you see where this is going.

Anyway, my book club is considering bouncing me because I never read the books or come to meetings. WHAT? Quit looking at me with your accusing stares! Howevs, the majority of the book club has read a series of books that was never assigned as a group project. It was more whispered hushes and ashamed confessions after a few glasses of wine.

But I am not ashamed. My name is Megan Venable Smith, and I love the Twilight series. *cringe! and sob!* I DO.

The books are so sappy that I think I got a cavity from one. Anyway, a few of us got together to do a showing/mockery of the first movie. Fear not, nothing was in vain.

Hostess Terri took her duty seriously and plied us mercilessly with 'tween food. Hot pockets, chips, cupcakes, M&Ms... it was as if she studied 17 Magazine or BOP! or something (they have BOP! still, no? No? Oy...)

it was awesome. we all dressed in comfy clothes and ate junk food sitting on the floor. i wish every night was twilight night... *sighs in contentment* thank you terri!!

these cuppy cakes say "team forks." attention to detail? check!

For those of you not in the know, these books are about vampires. Now, for a guy or gal not schooled in the Anne Rice genre of the vampire, you'll laugh hysterically at these hijinks. Or not, whatevs, I don't judge either way. But the concept of the vampire varies DRASTICALLY between these authors. Anne Rice: KILL THEM ALL. Stephenie Meyers: oh my heavens, no! Vampires can find their one true love in the human race because of their incredibly wonderful aroma and desire to kill them and drink their blood b/c of said yummy scent (I'm guessing it's like bacon or BBQ or something; dunno, I'm not a bloodsucker in anyone's universe) and torture the whole spiel with your desire/need/desperation to keep them alive because you love them.

Sigh. So exhausting.

Anywhoodle, moving on. I truly love these books, but this movie was so hilariously ri-donk-e-donk it's funny. Bottom line: Bella Swan smell=yummy. Edward Cullen=gnaw her jugular.

check out the wings on his back. we all see what you're doing here, theater gods! he's all like, "let me glower at you because you think i hate you but you smell like bacon and i really love you!" and she's all like, "i'm gonna ignore you because you're so cute and if i totally check you out you'll know i think you're cute and then i'll have to die in mortification!" ahh... wuv, trwo wuv... or high school. whichever comes first.

Or something like that.

I bought books three and four (hardback, no less). One of them came with an iron-on patch so I made grocery bags with them for our book club white elephant christmas party.

terri ended up with the "team jacob" bag (seriously - if you don't know, you're probably better off not knowing) and shows it off proudly.

Kathleen has recently been accepted to, and is moving to, Manchester, England for graduate school. Given her impending poor student status, she tried to make off with some of Terri's goods.

she doesn't make it far

Friday night, all of the Mowrer's friends get together to celebrate Rowdy Mowrer's upcoming welcome to the world! We held it at Patterson and Brad Wilson's lovely home (thanks, guys!) and a bunch of us brought in grub.

Mama's baby radar is excellent. Within 30 seconds of entering the home:

cassady wilson and mama. look, they even coordinate outfits!

dipsey doodle venable is mama's beverage bearer. or so he says (double-fister! double-fister!)

mama finds another baby! please meet the adorable amy hussar, sweet lucy venable and my wonderful mama!

the men get down to the serious business of grilling some meat

the lady of the hour, mrs. jennifer mowrer (aka, rowdy's mom)

Next, we made like senior prom and segregated:

boys table

girls table

my family's table

max showing us how it's done re: tongue rolling. he's good, folks.

lucy and i smile pretty for the camera

here we're debating the finer points of obama's health care plan.

This was a couple's shower. I'm all about the couple's shower; more the merrier and all that. Ok, that said; here is the difference between a ladies' shower:

oh my merciful heavens! a layette set! in green, no less! oh dear me, who gave me this? who? who? oh heavens to betsy, if i owned a textile mill and had every pattern known to mankind at my fingertips, this is what i would have chosen. no! it's true! it's JUST what i wanted! i'm ever so tickled! i can't wait to see little baby mowrer swaddled in his blankie!!!

Versus, a couples' shower: