Nags Head: Oliver Beach Week

Let me start this by saying that no one in my family has a drinking problem. Collectively, however, that may not be true. KIDDING. But seriously, my stepmother dubbed 4pm "Oliver awkward hour" because everyone is kind of quiet as they silently count down to themselves until the clock reads exactly 5 o'clock. When the clock fiiiiiiinally strikes 5 (or 4:58 since my grandmother's watch is 2 minutes fast and she's the initiator), the Oliver family members jump out of their seats, excited chatter rings throughout the kitchen, and smiles spread as wide as the Mississippi river. It's Happy Hour.

As gin martinis, red wine, and boxed lemonades (oh hey, 7 year-old brother) start flowing, the atmosphere becomes more and more convivial. Last night, Lala (my grandmother) even balanced her empty scotch glass on her head to let the room know she needed a refill. Gettin' a littttttle crazy in the Oliver residence. In all seriousness, though, I absolutely love my family. So do my friends, for that matter. My Phi Mu sisters talked about my Dad for weeks after they met him at one of my pageants (Claire Marks: "Hahaha I love your father. 'Does my daughter drink as well as she sings?' Oh J. D. ..."). And FOR THE RECORD, Dad, I really was not a party animal in college. I was actually quite lame, hence the pageants and "good example" thing. But back to what I was saying. Phi Mus loved him, my a cappella group (The Newport Pearls) called him "Papa Pearl," and more oft than not, my friends inquire if "your Dad and Jean are coming" whenever I go out. I can't blame them, though. Dad and Jean are a good time. Having a 7 year-old brother is pretty entertaining, too. Mostly I just mock him and/or chase him around the house when I get bored. However, if I get asked one more time if he's my son, I'm going to get one of those shirts with an arrow made that says "he's my little brother." I was NOT 15 years old and pregnant...but these days, perhaps that would have gotten me my own T.V. show (ugh). To sum it up, my family is the greatest and spending time with them this week is phenomenal!

As much as I love the fam, however, last night I left our beach house in Nags Head to spend the night in Corolla (45ish minutes away) with some college friends- John and Coleman- and some of their buddies. Now, let me explain how John and I met. In 2009, I went thrift store shopping with two of my girlfriends to find ridiculous outfits for our Jazz Dance final exam (shout out to Kayley and Shannon P....and to the easiest semester ever!). There before me was a rack of the most FANTASTICAL ugly Christmas sweaters one could ever hope to lay eyes on. I thought to myself "I will surely be invited to an ugly Christmas sweater party this year. Good investment." I bought two. Well, December rolls around and because I am lame (remember that, Father?!), guess who never got invited to an ugly sweater party? This girl. It was the last week of school before Christmas break and I was determined to make use of my purchase, so one night I decided to just rock the ugly Christmas sweater at the karaoke bar. Let me tell you, wearing an outrageous sweater as though it's totally normal can make you a LOT of friends. Even having made friends at the expense of my fashion reputation, I really could've used fellow sweater-wearers for the sake of avoiding stares. Fate was on my side when in through the door strolled about eight guys completely decked out in ugly Christmas attire. Obviously, I had missed the invite to THAT party. Either way, I decided they had to be my BFFs since, until their arrival, I had been riding solo in the Christmas sweater bandwagon. Two Backstreet Boys karaoke tunes and one secret handshake later... Voila! Observe (John's on the right): 

With a friendship founded on something as profound as Christmas cheer, John and I were bound to maintain contact. Yes, that contact may have been as simple as awkward eye contact in the gym for the few months following our initial meeting, but it was contact all the same. We actually have only hung out four times since that fateful night in 2009, but it's always so fun. Last night included the beach, the hot tub, and endless inappropriate jokes from Coleman's cousin, who apparently hadn't been in the same room as a female in quite some time. I also learned that tank tops are very in right now...? (Photo: Coleman, me, John, Marshall)

After the fabulous evening in Corolla, I had to wake up at 7:30am to meet my family for the wild horse tour. Let me repeat that. 7:30 A.M.!!!! Woof. Bouncing around in the back of a four wheeler on the beach after a night of little rest was not ideal. Luckily, my stepmom thought ahead and showed up with a bagel and water for me...GOOD move, Jean (see picture below). The tour was actually pretty neat. Our tour guide was super awesome and super typical with his bleached hair in a ponytail, outer banks slang, and totally believable ghost stories about the lighthouse. Naturally, we became fast friends. We saw several herds and even two little fillies who were only a few months old. Adorable. All in all, it was a great morning.

Since this whole blog is really about NYC, let me go ahead and tie that in. I got an email today that says I officially start my job on August 15th!! I will be an administrative assistant for a tiny company on the Upper East Side. Also, great news- I'll be living just a few train (metro) stops from my older brother and his fiance in Brooklyn! I plan on making the most of the last 2 weeks I have within a stone's throw of the beach, but that doesn't mean I'm not jumping out of my pants in excitement about this move. 15 dayssssss!