Cheers to new beginnings!

My Darling Readers,

How in the world did three years fly by since my last musing? Somehow the world kept turning and the sun kept rising without regular postings of delightful dialogue. After lots of inquiries, I have decided to give blogging another whirl and bring DD back from her respite for a mid-twenties re-boot! I can promise in the three years that have lapsed, the triumphs, tribulations, delights and disasters have been momentous and sharing them with you would be an absolute pleasure!

So pour your favorite cocktail and join the Duchess of Disaster as she navigates through this crazy time known as the mid-twenties.

Cheers to new beginnings and in the wise words of Dwight Howard I will sign off with this: “Today is a new day. Even if you were wrong yesterday, you can get it right today." 

Until next time, 

XOXO, DD 

XOXOlympics (Love Games)

While I'd love to conveniently add "not blogging" to my "given up for lent" list, I can do no such thing. So here I am attempting to make up for my lack of content. This post was inspired by two unforgettable components of February 2010: The Winter Olympics and the unavoidable subject of love. Here's my take on the two....

Love was all around this month... always tied to February because of Valentine's Day, romance was magnified in my life as I'm studying the abc's of the romance novel in a class for school.

Below are some highlights of the X-O-X-Olympics (Love Games) my version of the 21st 2010 Olympics (Winter Games):

Like the Winter Games, The Love Games began with the opening ceremonies... It was the beginning of February and I was at an engagement party for older friends of mine getting married this spring. As team delightful from the independent nation of disaster a.k.a me socialized around the room it was as if Beyonce's "Single Ladies" was blaring just as a country's national anthem plays during the opening games. I graciously reminded other party-goers better known as love game paparazzi that my "table for one" status was hardly life-threatening!

Another tradition of the opening ceremonies is the lighting of the Olympic torch, symbolic of all events past and to celebrate all of those in the future. In my case, I learned igniting old flames was anything but medal-worthy. Without divulging too many secrets I will say that a decorated athlete failed to show up for competition in two events and another failed to meet standard regulations, thus they were both eliminated from further competition.

Although Team Disaster's medal count in the 2010 love games was less than satisfactory, the Duchess was able to avoid injury, i.e: broken heart, see all things Bridget Jones.

Despite the excitement of the Olympics.... my feelings for February were anything but Fireworks!

Farewell February! MARCHing on to Madness!

Cheers,

D.D.

here we are again.... bring it on 2k10!

To my loyal readers… Happy 2010! You knew I’d be back… You also knew I wouldn’t be able bid farewell to 2009 without some sort of monumental disaster….here we go!

As if its not blatantly obvious… I’m quite the nostalgic one, so don’t act surprised a conversation between mommy & I circa 1994 is completely relevant! It went a little something like this:

Duchess: Mommy, why is Frances in first grade again? I thought she was a year older than me?

Mommy: She is older than you, but the first grade loved her so much, she gets to be a first grader again!

Duchess: So I can be a first grader forever? (I mean who wouldn’t want to live life in a smocked dress, with a huge bow and no front teeth for all of eternity!)

Just when I thought my college career was complete, I found myself in a similar situation to my classmate Frances. College loved me just as much as the first grade loved her and just as I expected the world kept moving despite my failed attempts to press pause. The holidays were in full swing and the hustle and bustle of the holidays did anything but dim the gigantic magnitude of disaster my unexpected change in plans caused.

I anticipated the awkward cocktail chatter during my family’s full social calendar to be the worst I would experience since announcing my new graduation date.Boy was I wrong! Announcing I hadn’t graduated did not seem to stop the generosity of graduation gift-givers! I had two choices (A) Not open them until May & appear unappreciative for what I’d received or (B) Open the present and write the thank-you-note.

Of course I chose option (B)….. This led to my current tift with non other than Miss Manners herself, Emily Post.

Dear Emily Post,

Your guidance on proper etiquette and social graces has proved to be an invaluable resource. Although I’ve typically found your advice to be very helpful, your texts are inept in providing solutions for damage control on my most recent and monumental disaster. For example: the advice you provide on calling off a wedding(even though pushing graduation back felt like that) and returning gifts was not applicable, along with the information on notes sent to those who’ve paid respects due a death in the family(even though I mourned the loss of my December graduation date). As a result I was forced to the following…..

*Note 1:

Dear Mr. & Mrs. X,

The monogrammed linen pillowcases are absolutely lovely. Your family was so thoughtful to remember my inability to graduate this December. I’ve dreamed of sleeping on linen pillowcases for sometime. However, it brings me much sadness to mention I put them on E-bay due to the fact I’m completing a full fifth year of college!Happy New Year! Hopefully I will get it right in 2010!

Love,

The Duchess

*Note 2:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Z,

The chic picture frame you sent me for graduation is already on my mantle! Although the frame is currently empty it is a daily reminder of my inability to graduate this December. Hopefully, I will fill it with a picture from my spring graduation! Maybe I will have a tan by then! Don’t count on it…..the tan that is! Happy New Year!

Love,

The Duchess

Of course these notes were intercepted by mommy & less cynical notes of appreciation were issued immediately.

Regardless if I like it or not.... here I am for the second half, fourth quarter...okay actually I'll admit it... it's double over-time at this point! Glad to be back!

xxx D.D.

If I could turn back time... obsessions,confessions & wanna be professions-Greatest Hits Vol.1

This morning I woke up to my ipod alarm clock/speakers blaring Cher's pop hit "If I could turn back time". Most people would have hit the snooze button or better yet changed the song to something early-morning friendly, but I of course did the opposite. The lyrics of Cher's tune cued my emotions to take hostage of my brain, which was basically a 30-minute mental slideshow reviewing the obsessions, confessions and wanna be professions in the early years of my life as the Duchess of Disaster.

Although I was born in July of 1987, my recollection of youth didn't begin until the spring of 1991 when my baby brother was born and we grew from mommy & daddy +2 to +3 forevermore. I barely noticed the changes around me until my first week of Kindergarten, which was also the week my eye doctor decided it was time for me to start wearing glasses. I couldn't wait to show my new frames off to neighborhood friends that afternoon but my new look was upstaged by the devilishly adorable antics of my baby brother. It was that day I realized I no longer starred as the precious baby girl but had been recast as the middle child.

1992

Obsessions: Barbies, books, having hair in sponge curlers--(trying to channel Belle from Beauty & the Beast)

Wanna-be profession: Getting reassigned as the center of the Universe instead of the middle child.

Confession a.k.a D.O.Y. (Disaster of the Year):

Christmas Card time rolled around and mommy dressed all three of us in matching white dress clothes smocked with christmas trees. My older brother and I worked so hard to perfect our grins and angelic faces but baby brother wouldn't stop crying thus mom suggested we take a break on behalf of the screaming tot. As W, (older brother) sat quietly in the corner and played with legos I scooted right upstairs to sulk in my room. It only took a glance of my favorite book at the time Amber Brown for an idea to garner attention for myself. The next thing I knew I had drawn a round black spot on my dress. It took my guilty conscious about 10 seconds to catch up with my misbehavior and I knew I had to get the spot out (I thought mommy does it all the time) so I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the black dot from my dress (some stain removal). Cue the waterworks and a confession to mommy for accidentally purposely cutting a hole in my dress to get attention--I thought I was back in the game...my little brother is a baby. Regardless of when I was ready to come to terms with my role in our family the middle child and only girl syndrome were one in the same to my parents and my brothers, both involved me and only me along with lots of tears, amusement and emotion.

1997

Obsessions: Girl Power, Hanson Brothers, wearing athletic leisure clothing, new balances & "Gap Socks".

Wanna Be Profession: Dream job would have to do with American Girl Magazine & the icon that is Molly McIntosh.

D.O.Y. (Confession): After recovering from my stage fright incident it was time for the fourth grade to begin. Back-to-school shopping really didn't consist of much other than new tennis shoes and school supplies since I already had several uniforms from previous years. Tennis shoes made a statement since representation through clothing was not an option. The day before school started mommy planned to take us shoe shopping, well to my surprise shoe shopping never happened because my grandmother had purchased a pair of shoes for me while she was out earlier in the day. Luckily, I was down the street when she delivered her thoughtful purchase, because I lost it after realizing she had purchased none other than L.A. Gear Pink Light Up Shoes for me to wear to school. Light ups were cool for like a second in kindergarden but clearly unacceptable in the fourth grade. The light ups were an ongoing joke amongst my peers as I provided instant pink lighting to darkness, mommy finally bought me a pair of stylish nikes after the light ups ruined a surprise party I was attending.

Things were pretty smooth until the summer before seventh grade in 1999.

Obsessions: Abercrombie & Fitch, Timberlands, Flared Jeans, Teen Magazines, 10 things I hate about you, AIM...

D.O.Y. (Confession): hair dresser has breakdown on tween's hair

Our family hairdresser was on maternity leave and recommended me to one of her friends to get my haircut until she returned. I've never had long hair, nor have I ever wanted or had a hairstyle that requires much. The hairdresser, "B*" was so friendly and hip I was excited for her to give me a summer cut before I headed to the beach. Since both of my brothers had gone first my mom left to drop them off at another commitment while "B" cut my hair. Before the butchering began I had shoulder length hair perfect for a 12-13 year old girl. When mommy arrived back at the salon I hadn't seen the final product but could tell something was the matter by the terrified look on her face. I had gone from having Britney Spears hair circa 1999 to having Britney Spears hair post shaved head.... it was basically a bowl-cut. Luckily, butterfly clips and other hair accessories had not been identified by the fashion police just yet, but I was still one tragic looking tween.

*Butcher-for the whack job she did to my hair!

Wanna-be-Profession: Despite my lack of hair, I had grown from a representative on student council, to the vice-president which inspired my dreams of becoming the first female president. I had no concept of time, the future or politics and thought that continuing the efforts of middle school student council was a gateway to a career in successful politics.

this concludes today's edition of early defining delights and disasters...stay tuned for more obsessions, confessions and wanna-be-professions as we tip top into the 2000's later this week!

xoxo- D.D.

So Long Daddy Warbucks! Hello Hard-knock Life!

Today I was doing some serious mathematics and I arrived at the following answers:

Question 1: How many days left until Graduation?

Answer: Less than 60

Question 2: How many days left until life on a full scholarship* is over?

Answer: Less than 80

*For those unfamiliar with what the Duchess of Disaster Full Scholarship entails it goes a little something like this. Once upon a time back in 1987(M) Mommy & (D)Daddy Disaster decided they would fully fund all of the Duchesses expenses until January 1st following her college graduation.

Basically, I feel like an actress who did not get her contract renewed on the Emmy Award winning sitcom she has starred in since birth. Like most actors who get canned on a Primetime show, I'm about to enter an unknown era where the security of my youth is nothing but a memory in the past. Despite my fear of the unknown, I am encouraged that so many of you are conquering the boardrooms of big girl world.

Instead of prematurely embracing Mommy's famous response to my daily disasters or in this case, the next chapter in my life "Put on your big girl panties and deal with it", I've decided to share three of my favorite explanations for exceeding my allotted monthly scholarship budget.

The summer before college I was in St. Simons at the beach with some friends. D had just issued my first credit card and instructed me it was only for emergencies and gas. My first emergency occurred on the last day of our 4 day stay. Before we hit the road we decided to stop at the Tibi Outlet to shop around. I thought to myself "a few purchases totally qualify as a fashion emergency". After I had decided what to buy I went to the register to pay for my purchases and swipe "plastic money" for the first time. 30 minutes later, after going through my entire suit case and purse we decided the card was officially lost. This meant I couldn't buy anything from Tibi and I had no credit card, so my friends and I decided I should call the company any cancel the card. Good thing I knew all the information necessary for a transaction like this because I ended up canceling D's credit card by mistake as well. Later that night when we arrived home I was greeted at the door by Mommy who informed me that D tried to pick up the tab for dinner out with clients and his credit card was mysteriously declined. I not only got in trouble for losing the card, but also for trying to condone shopping for clothes as an emergency.

Luckily, the rest of the summer my credit card purchases were minimal. Things changed when I arrived in Auburn that fall. One afternoon I received an e-mail that read:

From: D@daddywarbucks.com

To: Duchess

Darling Duchess,

Glad you're studying so much at Sky Bar Cafe, they must have great coffee, since you buy thirty dollars worth every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday. We'll have to get a cup when M and I come down for the game next weekend.

xxx,

D

The next weekend he accepted the fact his only daughter had fully emerged herself into the college experience. After all Sky Bar Cafe is a bar that serves anything but coffee. During that same visit, D also inquired about my frequent purchases at a Gas Station called the Chevron. It took him about 30 seconds to realize that I wasn't getting gas but instead shopping for beer. My under the radar spending was overlooked until my first Christmas Break home from college. The day after Christmas he received a notice in the mail I had accumulated almost $1000.00 in parking tickets.

Maybe tomorrow I will embrace life as a Frugalista....

D.D.

Stage Fright

This week's posts are inspired by the fears, frights, tricks and treats of Halloween. In the spirit of this hallowed day I thought it was fitting to share this story..

This past weekend while at home I found myself looking through some memorabilia from my summers at camp. With the boxes of letters and pictures came a memory I will never forget and it went a little bit like this...

I had all the credentials to be cast in Rockbrook Camp's 1997 production of Oklahoma! At only nine years old I had already taken the stage as "The Queen of Hearts" in the first grade play, and convincingly shared the biography of the first African- American female Senator in the third grade Biography Book talks. Following what I thought was a successful audition during the first week of camp my counselor prepared me for the probable disappointment of only being cast as a part of the chorus of farmhands. Since I was a younger camper and my audition consisted of singing a personal rendition of MmmBop and quoting lines from Home Alone things weren't looking favorable.

Finally, it was dinnertime on Thursday of audition week and my cabin mates and I enjoyed grilled-cheese and tomato soup. The mess hall quieted down as the camp director approached the podium to share the highs and lows of the day. At the end of his announcements he mentioned that the Oklahoma! cast list was posted outside the mess hall. About five minutes later I made my way through a mob of campers to find out I was cast as the male lead, Will Parker. Tears streamed down my face as I was so excited, yet confused that I had been cast as a boy!! The next few days were filled with standard camp activities, dances, Oklahoma! rehearsals and costume fittings.

As far as singing goes, I sell out concerts when I'm in the shower. I don't mind singing in groups but solo's in public are not my cup of tea. I was so relieved to find out that Will's solo had been cut since we were only performing some of the scenes from the famous musical. The last week of camp crept up so quickly and before I knew it the morning of the performance arrived. Since parents,friends and the community were encouraged to come to the show it was held at a local college theatre to accommodate a larger audience. Until the day of the performance the only place we had practiced was in the mess hall so a real stage was overwhelming! Just as we began to run through the first act, the director decided that my solo was necessary to the play's authenticity so it was added back in. I spent the rest of the rehearsal trying to re-learn the song and every moment in between I was panicked and sweating bullets. All of a sudden the audience filled the room, the overture began and the spot light was blinding....it was SHOWTIME!

Reciting my lines was a walk in the park and our performance was coming along seamlessly for a camp production, that is until the introductory music to my solo began. I was literally stuck in my boots unable to move my mouth or my body. All I could do was stand like a deer in headlights and occasionally wave to the audience. Seconds that seemed like decades passed before the female lead, an older girl in camp decided to take charge. She grabbed my hand and pulled me around the stage while singing what she knew of the song. Moments later the curtain went down and the rest of the cast filed onstage for the final number. I still couldn't move and didn't until "mommy" and three friends from home surprised me with flowers and hugs. My career in drama was officially up in flames, the girl with the credentials couldn't pull through. Thankfully it was the last day of camp and I got to return home following my flop of a performance. My favorite food, friends, flowers and movies wouldn't break my silence on my ride home from camp. I finally started to return to normalcy when one of my friends told me a rumor got started I came down with a vicious case of larengitis moments before my solo.

For the next two summers I spent a month at camp on the crystal coast of North Carolina, it was there I traded in my stage fright for a fear of heights and to this day remain a zip-line virgin.If it weren't for this nightmare on stage I wouldn't have given my next obsession a whirl--middle school politics a.k.a student council. Luckily no singing was involved but I could never say goodbye to witty one-liners and costumes.

Hope you're having a spooktacular Monday... More mayhem tomorrow!

Trick or Treat,

D.D.

The legend of the ladies room

Forget reality t.v., walk into any ladies room in a bar, restaurant or social gathering spot and you are guaranteed more entertainment than a 30-minute scripted "reality drama" could ever offer. Even if I don't have to go to the bathroom its nice to escape "the jungle" known as a bar to re-group, freshen up and chit-chat without screaming or using some sort of digital communication to talk . Its hilarious to me that men are so enamored by the goings on of the girls rest-room. Instead of leaving them out in the cold forever on this hallowed piece of ground I decided to explain a typical night in the ladies room with the help of some popular t.v. shows.

Project Runway: Even though Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn are not there to host and mentor contestants of the ladies room version of Project Runway the drama and competition is equally fierce. Uncomfortable shoes, broken dress straps, ripped tights or spills on perfectly white blouses are just a few of the possible wardrobe malfunctions that occur on an average night in the ladies room; however, there is always a girl overly-prepared with nail polish, band-aids and a tide stick to fix seemingly tragic problems! After repairs are completed, ladies still have to walk the catwalk in front of a line of other bathroom dwellers far more intimidating than the critiques of Michael Kors and Nina Garcia. Whether or not the panel of judges a.k.a the line of girls mentions there is toilet paper stuck to a ladies shoes is totally dependent on the amount of time the lady spent in the stall... One day you're in and the next day you're out!

Therapy Session: My favorite use for the ladies room! I cannot tell you how many times several of my girlfriends have crowded into the handicapped bathroom stall to wipe away unnecessary beer tears, remind someone that liquid courage is all you need or Prince Charming is in the next bar. Unfortunately the wooden panels that serve as doors on bathroom stalls are anything but soundproof. Secrets, confessions and juicy gossip spew like hot magma from a volcano for all other bathroom inhabitants to either ignore, translate or pass along to the rest of the world.

Let me remind you that all of this action occurs within the bathroom stalls... so you must be wondering what are the lovely ladies who patiently wait for their own turn in the stall doing? I call it LIVE GOSSIP GIRL: Most of them are entertaining themselves with commentary on the status of the therapy sessions, some are sharing their versions of the drama within the stalls to friends around the world thanks to cell phones. The icing on the cake is the entrance of the token "Blair Waldorf", equipped with her posse. Once these girls step foot inside, the bathroom empties like the street of an Old Western film. For the next 30 minutes Blair and her crew will participate in their own version of the therapy session, project runway and will be likely to graffiti the walls with some sort of joke or symbol that they were there.

These findings were compiled after 4 years of fieldwork in various bathrooms around the southeast. Although, I wish I could clear out a bathroom like Blair Waldorf, I was always the one wiping beer tears while being reminded no one would notice the run in my tights, stain on my shirt or remember that I had just tripped myself in front of the entire bar. "Trust me Duchess, All you need is some liquid courage! Prince Charming is waiting at the next bar!"