Housesitting, Rising Star, and the Big City

Another week, another housesitting job. This time it’s in the big city (well not that big) and with two adorable dog sisters, Paige and Prue. Don’t expect another post from me until Friday or Saturday (my birthday!). That being said, I’m extremely proud of a guy from my county that performed on Rising Star tonight. His name is Rye Davis and he’s a country boy with good manners and morals, and a thick accent. He used to be pitcher for the WKU Hilltoppers where he was hit by a line drive and blinded him in one eye. He was drafted and played for the Phillies for a while. He is now a cattle farmer in the good ole “city” of Pig. He wasn’t absolutely perfect tonight, but Ludacris’s response infuriated all of us. Here’s his performance.


but you should also check out his Facebook page where he posts his original songs.

Give him a listen and then let me know what you think.


Music, Friends, and Heartfelt Conversations

So, during the month of June, my friends and I have been a part of our local community band. We rehearse for two hours on Tuesdays and then give a concert on the following Thursday. After, my friends and I either go out to eat or go play volleyball (or both). I normally get in around 3 am. My mom has a problem with this. Seeing as I know many people that go and party until 3 am, and I’m just chilling in a restaurant, or, in tonight’s case, playing tag in a high school parking lot and then just sitting down and talking for hours on end, I feel like I am okay. Two of my friends have graduated and are in the job market, so if they get a job (or even if they don’t) I won’t see them near as often after the summer. The summer band is over for this year, so I guess it’s a communication barrier that Mom and I will have to work around next year. I guess, with growing up, I will have to learn how to balance spending time with my friends and getting home at a decent hour. That is, until I am able to get an apartment in the city, then I will be able to just invite my friends over to hang out.

Summer Job Woes

One of the worst things about living in a very rural area is that there are limited summer job opportunities. I got into the job market in my county after all of the high schoolers so all of the positions were already filled, except for one. The one that wasn’t did not hire me because I was not available on Tuesday and Thursday nights in June (for the summer band I’m in). So today I threw my name in the hat for a job an hour’s drive away at PetSmart. I figured that I love pets and I’ve had a little experience being a cashier, so I may not totally hate it. The worst thing is that the gas I use going to and from work would cost more than my minimum wage job would give me. Even though this is in the city where I go to college at, when I return next semester, my schedule is basically 8-6 every day and would provide me with limited work hours. I’m looking forward to getting older and having a band camp job, because experience in that department is worth more than a summer job in retail every single time.

Paws, Tails, and Tongues, Oh My!

So recently my friends have tried to classify what kind of person I will be when I finally move out of my parent’s house. (I’m not too worried about it because that requires me to get a job first and I can’t even get hired this summer, ugh!). One of my friends was like, “Well, when you marry, your husband will probably sleep on the couch because you’re going to have so many dogs in the bed with you. You’ll get the big ones too, like Sasha… tell him that they’ll be outside dogs, and then they’ll stay in the house.” She is probably very accurate. And then Thursday, at my summer band concert (Oh yeah, I’m in my community concert band… it’s nice), I was fangirling over dogs (well that describes it most accurately… they looked like Sasha, okay?), and another of my friends was like, “I picture you as the type of person that wants dogs bigger than them. Is that accurate?” I then showed him a picture of Sasha from February. He is also very accurate.

Hi. My name is Tabitha and I am a dog addict.

When I get my apartment in the future, I’m going to adopt a dog from the humane society or some rescue thing or something. The problem is going to be that I will want to adopt every dog, which is not cool for my bank account or for the dogs (or my roommate who obsesses over my dogs as much as I do).

My Instagram feed is 9/10 dogs, 1/10 Supernatural, and 0/10 of people or animals that I actually know. It’s a problem.

And actually I’m dogsitting this summer. Two weeks ago I watched a 6 month old husky, and the week after this, I’m watching two 6ish year old dogs. I met them Thursday and I’m so excited to spend a week with them.

I am an all around animal person, but I just have to have dogs. I hope, when I finally move to BG, to get a job at PetSmart or PetCo or something like that so I can pet the animals ALL DAY LONG. My life would be happy.

So now, some pictures of my dogs because yeah… oh, and one of Harley.


Lady, Sheltie, 3 years old


Cooper, German Shepherd, 7 months old10338221_10202841391728190_6142591150907049449_n

Sasha, Great Pyrenees, 8 months old


Harley, Husky, 6 months old


And bonus picture of my friends and I at B-Dubs after our summer band concert on Thursday!


Teenage Insecurities

One of the single most frustrating times is buying a bathing suit. I’m young and stylish, but I’m also overweight, so anything that I find cute whatsoever is not going to work for my body type. I don’t necessarily want a one piece or a tankini, but I also am in no way wearing a bikini. I can’t find any cute one pieces in my price range, and that stinks. I’m going with my friends to the pool in a few weeks and I haven’t had a new bathing suit in probably four years. That one was just to wear under clothes while I went tubing on the lake. I wish I had enough confidence to wear some of those more coverage bikinis for plus size people, but I definitely would go for a sweatpants bathing suit.

I absolutely hate my body and even though I started working out and eating healthy in August, I can’t seem to change anything. It’s almost been a year, and you would think that I’d atleast see a change by now. I’m beginning to think it’s hopeless.

While I’m talking about hopelessness, when I moved to Western, my face decided to breakout into the worst acne ever. Through highschool, I never had breakouts and my face was always so smooth and pretty perfect. Now, even in June and going through almost every “proven” acne treatments, my face is full of scars and I am so insecure about it now. Even when I wear makeup, I hate it. Everyone else is getting rid of their acne at this age and I am going full force with it. I know my friends obviously aren’t staring at my scars, but I feel like they are.

Obviously these aren’t as big of struggles as some other people/countries have, but if someone could invent a product that cured acne/scars in an instant and makes you fit, they could make world peace.

The featured image is me (obviously) on my first day of classes in August and on my last day of class in May.

To Tattoo or Not to Tattoo

Short post today, but just some random thoughts.

As I’m going to be 19 in less than a month, I am thinking about an idea for a tattoo. Okay, so I’ve actually been thinking about a tattoo for like three years now, but yeah. I know that I want a tattoo to represent my love for music, but every time I think of one, it’s so cliché, so I’m going to put that one off for now. Right now I’m thinking about getting a tattoo representing my mamaw and my papaw. They have been the two most influential people in my life. Mamaw practically raised me. As my dad put it, until I was like 17, I would stay at her house 6 nights a week and beg to stay the 7th. About right. My papaw and I had a special connection because I was born just a few hours after his 60th birthday, which happened to be the 4th of July. We always celebrated together. He was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s when I around 4, and he passed away when I was 10. I really didn’t get to know Papaw as well as my older brother and my older cousins, but he is still my hero.

I know that I want to orient the purple Alzheimer’s ribbon into the tattoo, but I’m having the hardest time coming up with one thing that describes my mamaw. She has literally taught me everything.  How to cook, how to sew, how to fish, how to drive, and some of the greatest life lessons ever. She also is the one that has asked me to go to church with her because God is very important in her life. She takes care of my cats for me, she makes me vegetable soup for college, she buys me random stuff because it reminds her of me, she calls me no less than 2 times per week to chat, and she is one of the best women in the world. I was asking my friend that I’m house sitting with what she thought of when she thought of my mamaw, and she was like, “just pick something cute because she does everything and she’s cute at it.” Case in point.

After I decide on that, I have to decide if I really want a tattoo or if I would just like a drawing of it, because, to be honest, my body is saggy now, and I don’t want to see what will happen to that tattoo in 60 years or so.

Also included is a picture of our 2/62nd birthdays because we’re just so darn cute.

I’m laughing because I said that this was going to be a short post in the beginning and it is most certainly not short.

Making Up for Lost Time

My friend and I are housesitting for our high school band director while his family is on vacation. They have a 6 month old husky named Harley and she is the weirdest dog ever. She lays around all day minus a few random minutes when she tries to eat us. We have been watching the new season of Orange is the New Black and laying around and catching up. She graduated high school with my brother a week ago and so I haven’t seen her in about a year. One thing that I realized during last year is that the friends that truly want to be my friends will make an effort to see me, and if I truly want to stay friends with someone, I will make an effort to see them.

Spending time with Erin after almost a year is weird, because it’s like that year never happened. Like, we talk about it and she tells me about how much the school changed since I left and I tell her about my experiences in college, but it’s not weird. Not the, well we have spent like two minutes together in the past year and I don’t really know if you’ve changed so this will be fun, weird, but more like we’ve lived together all of our lives and we have fallen back into old habits. It’s fantastic.

She’s probably 1 of like 3 friends that I’ve stayed friends with since they’ve/I’ve graduated high school. One of them being my future sister-in-law.