My Life

American Express has been running a series of ads in magazines in which famous people answer some personal questions. It goes along with the company's slogan "My life. My card."

American Express wants to let consumers know it has a card for everyone's life. I dare say the only credit card that would fit my life would be one that didn't require me to pay back what I'd spent on credit.

But I found the ads clever and admit I paused to read the responses from people like Ellen DeGeneres and Kate Winslet.

So, I decided to answer the same questions here:

My name: Holly

Childhood ambition: fashion designer, beautician, mother of six children, being Miss America

Fondest memory: That's tough. I can think of many but one that tops the list is seeing my husband get a little tear in his eye on our wedding day.

Soundtrack: Just about anything country or the peacefulness of the woods.

Retreat: Camping with my husband and dogs or my backporch in the springtime.

Wildest dream: Winning a Pulitzer Prize

Proudest moment: Graduating with my master's degree

Biggest challenge: Cramming everything I want to do into one day; spending quality time with my God, myself, my family and friends

Alarm clock: is evil

Perfect day: Knowing there is absolutely nothing I HAVE to do

First job: Napoli's Pizza

Indulgence: Shoes, purses

Last purchase: Shoes, iPod armband, Bible

Favorite movie: Dead Poet's Society, Notting Hill, When Harry Met Sally

Inspiration: the people who love me

My life: is chaotic, loving, insane, blessed

My card: is Visa (probably not the response American Express was going for)

Rainy Days and Mondays

You know you're in for a tough week, when you get to work Monday morning and start thinking: "Is it Friday yet?"

I obviously didn't get enough sleep over the weekend. And it was rainy today -- a classic case of "the Mondays."

Professor Fisher's Debut

On Jan. 10, I embarked on an entirely new profession--college professor. I'm teaching a course at the College of Charleston as an adjunct faculty member. My course is Comm 230 - Writing for the Mass Media. It's an introductory level course for students interested in pursuing careers in mass media (print, broadcast or online journalism as well as public relations).

I spent quite a bit of time on the syllabus, determining the assignments, projects and how to test students on news writing and the AP Stylebook. The first day I was incredibly nervous and hoped the students wouldn't be able to smell my fear. I teach two mornings a week and each class has been a little easier. I know most of the students by first name and am starting to see who the more serious students are.

I'm only about 10 years older than most of the students, but they refer to me as "Professor Fisher" and sometimes "M’am," which makes me feel ancient. Despite my lofty title, I can’t help but feel inadequate. Elementary and high school teachers receive years of specialized training. Yet, I graduate with a master's degree and -- presto -- I'm ready to teach a college-level course.

So I'm drawing on my own college experiences and trying to be the kind of professor I liked: interesting, tough, fair. I'm trying to make my lectures engaging, inserting some anecdotes from my own work experience and encouraging class discussion. And I've made the coursework challenging with the hope my students will get a realistic taste of journalism.

I guess I'll see if my formula worked when students complete course evaluations at the end of the semester. In the meantime, I'll just enjoy my new status as "professor."

Back to the Grind

The first couple weeks of January are just so ... well, "blah." The excitement and energy of Christmas has passed. The living room looks empty and sad without the Christmas tree and decorations. Vacations are over. It's back to the grind with a whole year staring us in the face.

Maybe I'm being a little melodramatic, but I always find the first days of the new year a little depressing. I guess it's just tough to get back into the swing of things. On Monday, it took all my energy to drag myself out of bed. I hadn't worked a Monday -- or a full, five-day week -- in three weeks. Oh, 5:30 a.m. came so early.

I'm halfway through the work week and starting to feel a little more normal. I'm sure by the end of next week, I'll be juggling a busy schedule and cruising right along. But for the moment, I'm mourning the passing of another year, another holiday season.

Although, the retailers are already stocking Valentine's Day and Easter candy, so I'm sure Christmas will be here again before I know it.

O, Christmas Tree

Ever since I was a small child I have been fascinated by the Christmas tree. As soon as it was decorated, I wanted to turn off all the lights and just sit on the couch and gaze lovingly at the tree.

To this day, I still turn off all the lights and sit on the couch to admire the tree. In fact, I'm doing just that as I type this. Probably on Saturday, I'll take down the Christmas decorations, so I'm trying to squeeze in the last little bit of face time with the tree.

It's hard to explain why I find the tree so mesmerizing and why it makes me feel happy and sad at the same time. Christmas trees are symbols of the past, the present and the future. Decorated with a lifetime of memories, they are treasures of the past. Each ornament has a story, a history, a special meaning. As a child, I had my favorite Tweety Bird ornament and I loved pulling out the box filled with fragile Christmas bulbs that had belonged to my great-grandmother.

The ornaments on my tree these days are fairly new; most of them collected since I married five years ago. But I still enjoy thinking about what each one represents. I even started a new tradition of buying a Hallmark ornament that sort of sums up the major event of the year.

In its ornaments and decorations--and by extension, the memories they represent--the Christmas tree is like a scrapbook. Yet, at the same time, the tree represents the present, a celebration of the current holiday season and the new memories that are made.

For me, the Christmas tree pulls my thoughts ahead to future holidays. I wonder what will happen in the coming year. Will life be radically different next Christmas? Will I be missing any loved ones? Will I be living in the same house? In the same state?

Maybe that's why I like to spend time looking at the tree--it's an opportunity to capture the moment, to freeze time like a snapshot. For that moment, when it's just me and tree, all is right and good and peaceful in my world.

And that's a memory worth repeating each year.

Christmas in a World of Men

Yesterday a girlfriend and I were discussing what Christmas would be like in a world of men. It seems obvious to me many of the Christmas traditions we cherish and hold dear would be gone because there would be no women to carry them on from year to year.

* Men would give each other whatever gift they could find at the 7-Eleven on Christmas Eve. I can just hear them now:
--Man 1: Hey, man, I bought you this Snickers bar and pine-scented air freshener for your truck.
--Man 2: Thanks, dude, and here's your cup of stale coffee and a refrigerator magnet.

* The gifts definitely would not be wrapped.

* No Christmas cards would be sent.

* No decorations would be found anywhere. (Men might say they contribute to the decorating by putting up lights on the outside of the house, but they only put up those lights because women tell them to.)

* No cookies would be decorated, no pies would be made, no breads would be baked and no candies would grace the Christmas table.

* No office parties, Christmas pageants or gift exchanges would be organized.

(Note to my husband: I write this in jest, honey, none of these apply to you.)

The Newest Addition

I'm finally getting around to posting a photo of our new puppy, Isabelle Carolina. We call her Belle, for short, and she's very lovable. At about 13 weeks old, she's already pushing 30 pounds. I think she takes after me, don't you?