One- Ahahah! Two- Ahahaha!

Publixes just make me happy. They are so welcoming. And the stores are green and I just love green. Jenna and I went yesterday to pick up some diet lime soda for this stuff we're making and lo and behold, 12-packs of coke products were 5 for $10. This is utterly amazing. So we stocked up. And then we found all these buy one get one deals, Cool Whip, mushrooms, cereal. At the end of our amazing Publix experience I looked at my receipt. It said- Total: $22.01. Total Savings: $22.10. We saved more than we spent with all of our buy one get ones. This is a new mile marker in my life. If you live in a place that doesn't have Publixes, you are missing out. Call your congressman.

I was not naive enough to think that the feeling during my great shopping experience would be a feeling that would continue throughout the evening. It never happens that way. Dad and I went running at the Godby track and he was going to come in and use my cellphone to call his brother. We go to open the door and as I open it we both fall back writhing in pain, foaming at our mouths. Okay, well, not that bad, but Diane had spilt GARLIC in the house. My most hated enemy. I cringe at the sound of its name. Like nuclear radiation it had swept through my home and could even be smelt on the back porch. Dad could not handle it and went home. I almost followed him to make a spot on the couch. Fortunately, the garlic smell killed off my senses in the first 30 minutes or so as I could not tell the difference between Diane's roses and the spoiled milk in the fridge. Lerah's going to have to find a place to read that vampire book somewhere else. No vampire would be brave enough to venture onto our street at this point.



Count VonCount says: Only YOU can prevent garlic spills!

air matress + sinkhole + illegal substances = not good

Carli came up this weekend.
And there was much rejoicing.

She is not in Tallahassee very often, so on each visit we try to show her the best Tallahassee has to offer. This weekend it was WalMarts and sinkholes. (And you ask why people want to get out of this town...)

Friday afternoon was all ours, so I took Carli to one of my favorite places in Tallahassee, the Country Dollar. We trekked all the way over to Apalachee Parkway. Too bad Mr. and Mrs. Countrydollar were on vacation. But that's okay because I had Kleenex in the car. (There was much sorrow.) Next on our list was to make sweet bags so we could be like Lori, Jake and Taylor. We went out to the Apalachee Walmart and made our way back to the fabric section. Or what should have been the fabric section. Alas, Walmarts are getting rid of the fabric deparment. Did you know this? You should contact your senators. Just terrible. So then we drove in 5 o'clock traffic to the Tennessee Street Walmart which currently has its fabric department still intact. We lost ourselves in Martha Stewartness for a few hours and I only ironed my arm once. This is a new record. (Say it like the guy on DanceDance Revolution- "Itsa new rec'ad!")

Saturday morning we saddled up and went to Cherokee Sink. There we were greeted by some local Wakullians jumping out of trees and way too many pairs of cut-off jean shorts, but we weren't complaining. The water was nice and cold and I got my couple backflips in off the high dive before necessity drove me away. (One too many offers of "If you drown, I specialize in CPR," from guys with sketchy tattoos.) However, an hour or so later I started smelling this odd smell. It was kinda giving me a headache and Nicole was getting a little giddy...(just kidding, Nicole). This is how it went down.

"Gosh, what is that smell?" -innocent me
"Uh...that's pot." -Carli

Our eyes drifted to the couple of shifty-eyed 14-year old tattooed boys who had somehow thought it a better idea drag their mom's velour-topped air matress out of the closet to throw in the sinkhole rather than buying a dollar raft from Walmart. The smoke drifting up from their matress and their obnoxious giggling gave it away.

Note to the potheads out there- Getting high on illegal substances and then jumping on an air matress while floating to the middle of a 100-foot sinkhole in the middle of Wakulla country is never a good idea.

Alright kids, let's review our lessons for today-

Make a quick phonecall before driving in traffic 45 minutes to jewelry stores.
Never assume that Walmart is going to have what you need.
Winners don't use drugs.

This blog post was brought to you by the letter Z and the number 9.

How To Convert Your Friends into Country Music Fans

People, it has happened. I have successfully converted Jenna into a country music fan. Jenna. The last person I thought I could get to listen to 94.9. I couldn't have done it alone. Thanks to The Dean, Sarah, Lori and the others who have supported me in this endeavour.

Friends have come to me and said, "Calyn, how did you do this? I've been trying for years to get my [insert being here] to listen to country music with no luck."

I've decided to write a self-help manual on my blog to help you all.

Converting Your Friends into Country Music Fans for Dummies -by Calyn Reber

Step 1- Finding Common Ground

Not all of us have been blessed enough to grow up listening to country music. Some people have parents who always listened to Rush Limbaugh on the radio, some listened to Wee Sing Kid tapes, some lived in places where they didn't have country music, like Bangladesh or South Florida. Often times when those friends enter your vehicle to hear Alabama blasting, it's a little too much for them to handle. Their ears have not been accustomed to twang and nearly understandable southern accents. This is why you must find common ground first.

Turn your dial to Star 98. There, in the midst of crap like, "This is why I'm hot...this is why you're not...I'm hot 'cause I'm fly...You ain't 'cause you not..." you will occasionally hear goodness creeping through. Goodness like Keith Urban and Carrie Underwood. This is where you start.

When person X enters your vehicle, have a CD ready to go with songs of various people whom Star 98 has deemed worthy to play on their station. Things like, "Making Memories of Us," and "Who Says You Can't Go Home." You'll want to bypass "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy" at this point in the game.

Hopefully, you will hear person X humming or even singing along. Once you have reached this point, prepare for step 2.

Step 2- Let Them Think That They are Doing You a Favor

When person X enters your car, wait until they get situated and then say, "Oh, sorry. I forgot you don't like to listen to country music. Then change it to some sad alternative. Most of the time, if you have a good friend, they will say, "Oh, no. It's okay. It's your car," or something like that.

Step 2 is tricky because it may or may not happen. You may have a friend who is not that polite. After repeated failed efforts it is okay to move ahead to Step 3

Step 3- The Roadtrip

The roadtrip is absolutely essential for full submersion. Without the roadtrip, one can spend months, even years repeating steps one and two, hoping for a breakthrough. I am speaking from experience, because I was converted in a roadtrip. Sarah and Rebekah promised me that if I listened to country music for our whole Alabama roadtrip that I would be a fan by the time we came home. I didn't believe them. But it was true.

The key about country music is it's only fun once you know the words. It's great singalong music. I mean, really, how many rap songs can you sing along to? You mostly just bob your head, do the white man's overbite, and wait for the chorus. So, this is why roadtrips are essential. Camping roadtrips in giant Tahoe's with ipods make for great conversions. You need multiple people singing along. Find a theme song. You want something with catchy lyrics that you can quote like, "Mmmmmmmmmmm, old man Wrigley has died..." Then you do your best Ronnie Dunn impersonations. You want to figure out the songs that person X likes, and play those multiple times, until they start learning the words. Once they learn lyrics, your work is basically done.

99% of the time you will have a country music fan upon your return.



Calyn Reber is a freelance writer in the Florida Panhandle. She started listening to country music at the age of six, but fell away until some friends brought her back in high school. She spends some of her time paying forward what her friends did for her. She likes swimming, jogging and tapioca pudding. Calyn lives in Tallahassee with her roommates, Diane and Jenna and their pet turtle, Sam. Or, at least if she had a pet turtle, his name would be Sam.