Vanderbilt, All Hail!

Remember that last post when I gushed about how great Ben was on our trip?  Care to guess how he's been now that we're home?  Yeah, not awesome.  There hasn't been a lot of sleeping in our house this week.  I've uttered the phrase "I'm glad you're cute" many times.  So to remind myself just how cute he is -- and to document one more item crossed off my 30 Before 30 list -- I give you pictures of Ben by pretty things at my alma mater.

 

Here we have the lovely, oft-photographed Kirkland Hall.

These are some pretty, growing things outside Furman Hall (I had to look at a campus map to remember what the name of that white building was).

And this is a statue of some lady in the Branscomb family reading a book.  Behind Ben is my sweet friend Melissa, who kindly kept my boy from falling to the ground.

These next pictures don't exactly qualify as pretty things, but they are places on campus that have sentimental and/or comedic value to me:

Kissam Kissam.  This is the building where I lived my freshman year and where Daniel lived his freshman year.  It looks a little like old-style housing projects.  But check out those fine ladies surrounding Ben.  Thanks to Mackenzie, Susanna, and Melissa for making our 24 hours in Nashville so much fun and for running around in the 1000-degree heat to take these pictures!

Baseball Glove Lounge.  Perhaps you can see why this room would have that name.

BCM building.  This is perhaps the ugliest building of all time, but I spent many important hours of my life here.  And I met some of my dearest friends and my husband because of the Baptist Collegiate Ministries.  So, yay! (Also, notice how Ben won't put his leg down in the grass.)

I really loved being back on that campus with Ben.  My life would be very different without Vanderbilt, and my life would certainly be very different without Ben -- so it was fun to bring those two important parts of my life together for a couple of hours.  Almost makes me feel guilty for throwing away all those alumni support letters we get in the mail.