I'm a Vandy fan, and I went to bed last night without checking the final score (I mean, the game was long over by the time I went to bed, but I just didn't want to know). Then, I dreamed that we lost 357-0, and I got up this morning thinking, "Eh, plausible."

Ehhh. I love grits, grew up eating them, an my family paid to ship stone ground grits from a mill in Georgia when we briefly lived outside the Southeast. Grits are fantastic.

Please be at my house at 11 a.m. tomorrow morning with ingredients in hand. We'll have an apron ready for you (it will say "Queen of Canning" on the front, because my boyfriend is obsessed with canning vegetables).

I'm new to the asthma game, having been diagnosed with just allergy-induced asthma last year, because apparently as I get older, I am becoming allergic to EVERYTHING. I'm on a bunch of meds to handle the allergies (I also didn't know I was allergic to cats until I got three indoor cats, whoops), so I'm fine for the…

I covered sports for my college paper, and I guess as some sort of freshman writer initiation, my editor told me to interview a kicker named Greg. Earnest and enthusiastic and not yet in possession of a depth chart, I made my way to the kicker after practice and asked him a slew of prepared questions, really…

I was a bit of a jersey chaser in my youth, so I like locker room smells, sports gear, athletic prowess. MROW. My boyfriend went to college on a pitching scholarship (he's not a jock bro though), and I get so turned on listening to him talk pitching. Like the little details, whether the fingers are with or against the…

I'd hit it. And that is not my type.

I loved that article! I also fondly remember Moe's horrific tampon saga.

Same. I remember being super bummed way back when Moe left.

My boyfriend has been trying to get me to read more Vice, convinced it's up my alley. If you're headed that way, looks like he was right. Fare thee well, and I look forward to reading you over there.

That's a really good idea. One of my cats is such a water cup bandit, we've taken to using mason jars with small openings that she can't get her head through, though god help her, she tries.

He also ad-libbed "It's like wiping a marker," which is one of my favorite lines from anything ever of all time.

I'm not sure I've eaten a Georgia peach, and I'm born and raised here. My sister lives in California now, and when she comes back to visit, she mandates that we make a drive to the mountains and get boiled peanuts at a road-side stop.

Oh, I just mean that there's a WaHo around every corner slinging grits because us Georgians love them so much. I like stats enough to know the menu wouldn't be counted more than once :)

It might be the best dream I've ever had. Well, except maybe the sexy ones with really hot dudes.

OF COURSE Georgia is grits. You can't throw a rock around here without hitting a menu with grits on it, from the state's 472,000 Waffle Houses to our hottest Midtown restaurants.

So, like, a Trojan Madonna?

I only tell my friends about my dreams if they did something really crazy or awesome in them. Like, my best friend and I still reminisce about my dream where she, Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, and I shared several bottles of wine and amazing conversation at the lovely eat-in kitchen in my awesome dream house as if it…

I think flash mobs are the worst. I'm a grinch, too.

That myth has been debunked many, many times by people better educated on the topic than myself.