Multicollinearity: Holiday Music for Nerds

Here is the 2008 holiday mix.

Bye Bye Bye- Plants and Animals
Some Kinda Love- The Velvet Underground
Don't Think Twice, It's All Right- Bob Dylan
Sun Down- Nik Freitas
Everyone I Know Is Listening to Crunk- Lightspeed Champion
I Wanna Be Like You- The Morning Benders
You Have to Be Joking- The Flaming Lips
Teenage Kicks- Nouvelle Vague
Yeah Sapphire- The Hold Steady
Geography- Thao
Trouble In Mind- Sister Rosetta Tharpe
My Only Offer- Mates of State
Calling and Not Calling My Ex- Okkervil River
The Worm In the Apple- Ezra Furman and the Harpoons
I've Been Loving You Too Long- Otis Redding


I've also posted a link to the iMix in case you'd like to find the songs online or you forgot to thank me sometime in the last 5 years.

Oh, regression- you are the bane of my existence.

The last two weeks and the next 5 days of my life have been and will be possibly the most difficult of my academic career. I'm not sure if I forgot what it was like to be in school or perhaps now that I'm climbing the floors of the ivory tower- but fuck, every single day adds another dimension of anxiety and tension. It is final exam week around here. Between two final exams in my statistics class, I've been chaotically writing two 15 to 30 page papers.

My ability to juggle and think efficiently has increased ten-fold. I realized you can actually type a paper while eating, at least if you like handheld food and can type pretty quickly with one hand. It is also possible to write out (hopefully semi-coherent) Christmas cards while watching Top Chef. I'm half surprised I haven't figured out a way to drink, smoke, and read- all while in the shower.

To be honest though, I thought I was on top of it. I felt like I was making progress toward a final goal of freedom which will arrive on Tuesday when I turn in my final paper. I thought this- at least until today, when it all felt like it came crashing down. Horribly melodramatic, I know, but it wasn't until my statistics final today that I felt like drinking a bottle of whiskey- and this time without trying to do any other work.

So, what happened? Fuck if I know. I know this though, sometime around 3:45 (about 45 minutes into the exam), I hit a brick wall. For the next hour and a half, I kept trying to find a way around the wall, but as the anxious minutes quickly ticked past- there seemed to be no way around it.

And I hate to say this more than anything, but I actually felt bad about it. Believe it or not. I'm a pretty flippant person, particularly about grades and school work. I go with it. I throw in the towel when I'm done- and usually don't look back. But for the first time in my entire academic career, I actually shed a tear. I know, I hate to even write it, but it happened.

It just felt so overwhelming. So disappointing. All that work and all that time seemed to be in vain. Now I realize (after a couple of beers and hours) it isn't. And after hearing endless attempts at reassurance..."I'm sure you really did great." I still feel pretty bummed about it. I suppose it might because for the first time I really care about how I did. And I sucked.

Farewell, Professor...

When I first started watching baseball, I immediately fell in love with Greg Maddux. Are you kidding me, check out the picture below- how could you not? No, really. How could you? Maddux looked completely out of sorts while pitching, with that tongue and all. But I loved him. I loved him because it is Maddux that made me realize how fascinating the game of baseball is. It wasn't until I watched Maddux take a hitter all the way up in the count that I saw the true essence of the struggle. So, when people would say to me, "Oh, baseball games, I don't watch those on television. They are so slow and boring." I always knew they either hadn't seen Maddux pitch or they were hopeless fools that were never going to get it anyways.

It always seemed like each pitch for Maddux was intentional. It was the best pitch he had in him. And it felt like he was fucking with the hitter a little bit. Rocking them back and forth on the plate, a ball, a strike, a change-up, you just couldn't count on knowing exactly what was coming out of that arm. I can remember back around the late 1990s watching Maddux pitch for the Braves and recognizing that each pitch meant something. This was the game.

"And it is with bittersweet emotions" that I bid you farewell and happy retirement, Maddux.


And here is a quote from an article on ESPN.com

"There's really not a lot you can do to improve it," Maddux said. "The game of baseball is almost perfect the way it is."

Hey, he should know.

Turkey Day?

Thanksgiving is a weird time for me for numerous reasons. This year it is awkward because it is almost the teaser before the end of the semester. Instead of being able to lay on my mother's couch after eating too much food, I'll be tearing through several books that I need to read to be able to write my many, many papers that are due in merely two weeks.

Beyond that, I'm pretty sure that Thanksgiving is a holiday that I disagree with on a number of human rights and animal rights issues. Luckily, I've been a vegetarian long enough now that people have stopped asking me in absolute disbelief about what I'll eat for the hedonistic holiday.

And even further than that, I have some pretty horrible memories attached to Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the time in Boone in Cabin #4 with my family and an old friend. And Thanksgiving always reminds me of the last time I saw my dad. Most of you probably know that my dad passed away on December 1, 2000. We didn't have the best relationship and years had passed since I had seen him- when I received "the call." He had been living with MS for several years and it had finally beat him. I got the call with the old cliched narrative, "He's asking for you."

So, on the Monday after Thanksgiving, my mom and I got into a car and drove to see him. The whole trip down I kept thinking about my carefree Thanksgiving. How I was eating with my family, laughing and talking- never realizing what was waiting for me at the end of the weekend. What I always remember the most about the trip was my mom and I listening to an album by The Good Life. In particular, this song always resonates about that time.

A Golden Exit

I can see the chill in the air between us.
I can feel the winter coming, we're frozen in our stares.
And we know there's a world outside of these insults and injuries.
Maybe we're just too, afraid to be one.
The autumn sets a golden exit, the winter is waxing.
The cold sun will shed no more warmth into our living rooms.
Where we dream our dreams, where we wait for sleep.
Maybe we'll wake up with golden wings,
and fly over the city screaming, take me.

I woke up this morning to the silence of falling snow.
These graces of beauty have left me so cold.
I once had a heart, but hearts are like snowflakes,
and snowflakes, one warm touch and they melt away.
Maybe we'll get wings. Maybe anything.
Just anything to set us free. Maybe we'll wake up.
A golden exit.
Must we always wait for sleep?

We are the Champions!

Congratulations Obama and Biden!

I never knew I felt patriotic. Not until tonight.

Catastrophically Getting Older

I was reading an interview with Woody Allen that a good friend passed on to me...

DM (Douglas McGrath the interviewer): What's the worst thing about getting older?

WA: Well, your body breaks down and you're closer to death. So that's an unbeatable combination.

DM: Is there anything good about it?

WA: There's nothing good about getting older. Absolutely nothing. The amount of wisdom and experience you gain is negligible compared to what you lose. You do gain a couple of things- a little bittersweet and sour wisdom from your heartbreaks and failures. But what you lose is so catastrophic in every other way.

DM: Not a good trade.

WA: No. And, consequently, the whole thrust of science and the medical profession is to try and prevent it- to try to prolong life, to keep you from dying, to keep you from getting older, to rejuvenate you. I mean, that's everybody's wish. The fountain of youth is everybody's sought-after thing.

DM: You've written a lot about death over the years. Have your feelings about it changed at all?

WA: No. Death is a no-win proposition. Because you know what happens? You die. I'm not a religious person, so you die, and then you disintegrate in one way or another- and you're gone. That's it. There's no other at bat. It's one strike, and you're out.


But what you lose is so catastrophic in every other way. Indeed.

My civic duty...

I voted yesterday. What does this picture have to do with it? Tim and I are holding up our voting cards. I would have documented the actual process, but that seemed like overkill. I do have to say this though- I got misty-eyed looking at the ballot and seeing Obama's name there. I'm feeling overwhelmed by the sheer historic moment of all of this. And I feel nervous. I'll probably have trouble sleeping on Monday night, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

Photos of Apartment and Neighborhood

I know I've totally been slack about getting some photos up for my long lost friends in various parts of the world- so here you go.

I call this chapter "getting perspective"...

Despite the fact that my calendar is filled with numerous appointments, classes, meetings, and homework, I'm trying to learn how to gain perspective in my life. I've been sleeping less than normal lately, trying to catch up on school work and actually manage to maintain a normal life. A life that contains not only an academic training, but also a social life. I desire to ask everyone who has gone through this same experience, is it possible? Particularly the first semester.

Instead of questioning it, the first few weeks, I've surrendered to the life of school from 6 in the morning until midnight. I barely make time for anything else. Tonight, I decide to make some time for socializing, which I incredibly enjoyed. I needed it.

On my way home from the evening, I realized I'm starting to feel at home in Nashville. I saw this one particular sign which always indicates to me I'm almost home and it felt like that...home. This is good. I'm happy about this.

But after arriving home and checking my (school) email, I was informed that one of my students received a call this morning that her brother was killed in a car accident. It was forwarded to me from the professor I'm working for with the message, "awful"...and it is. It caught me off guard. I was expecting some information about school. I was expecting some instruction for the following week. And it was then, I realized my priorities have been all out of wack. I've given into the pressures of graduate school and carelessly forgotten EVERYTHING else.

And it was then I thought, I need some perspective. I need to remember my real priorities. I mean, school is school. There are expectations, but there are other things in my life that are far more important than a document citing the papers I've read, written, contributed to...and it was then I felt guilty. Guilty because I'm not sure how to re-prioritize and still enable myself to be successful in all the ways I hope. Though, I'm certainly realizing that I need to think about what is important. Finishing my paper and my presentation and my research is certainly important within a certain world. But this isn't the only world. This isn't all that there is...so I'm hoping to in the next week find a careful balance between expectations and my desires, all the while remembering the things that are most important to me.

There will be a lot of explaining to do...

I agree. There is a lot of explaining. Where the hell have I been for the last month? I have simply one answer. School. Yes, It is kicking my ass. This time around the experience is kicking my ass in numerous ways. I have some mornings where I wake up and think I could possibly skip town with my loan money, but then I question if the department would still pay me? Some mornings I'm ready to conquer the world and revolutionize the world of sociology (Is it possible, Colin?)Most mornings, I'm just tired, exhausted, running on about 6 hours of sleep, while still trying to read one last article, write one last word, conquer one last statistics problem.

I'm learning many valuable things. Most of these have to do with just learning essential ways to navigate the world. I'm learning about friendships. There is nothing like 20-odd new acquaintances and friends to teach on a mass level what it is like to have friends, keep friends, and maintain friends. I'm learning to prioritize. I've already had to give up my drunken life that I so dearly loved before. I've actually had to decide to skip the Ezra Furman show (last week) and the Conor Oberst/Jenny Lewis show (this weekend)- not to mention numerous parties. I find myself saying things like, "I'd rather clean my house and run problem set 3 instead of get rip roaring drunk and feel bad the next day." If that isn't maturity and responsibility, then I'm out. I have no idea.

This is drastically different from my last program. In that, I think there was maybe one or two weeks that I wasn't drunk, hungover, thinking about drinking, or out drinking. I'm over exaggerating the past for effect (I've also learned how to bullshit more too), but I'm having a very different experience from last time.

All of that being said, I'm having a great time. I feel a tiny bit like a lab rat, but I'm getting use to it. I spend at least 97% (approximately 2 standard deviations) of my time in either the sociology department or sitting at my work table...all the while reading or making stupid jokes about school (see above).

Beyond that...the obvious. I'm dealing with other experiences that I wasn't quite prepared for. I wasn't quite prepared for the identity ambivalence that I feel. Yes, I have a word now to discuss the distinct feeling of transition and confusion that I'm going through. Also, I know...what a whiner, right? I'm going to a top 20 school and I'm totally funded..and I'm bitching. I just can't help myself though. Besides, what good is a blog if I can't bitch from time to time.

So, yes, me...I'm at an elite institution. There are norms, rules, regulations, bureaucracies. There are things like networking and appearances. There are times I have to feign interest when really I'm planning my grocery list for the week. And a majority of the time, I spend walking around on the campus or sitting through class feeling like a total fraud. I'm nervous that one day next week or perhaps later in the semester that there will be some huge discovery that I don't belong here. I'm from the trailer park. I'm from the country. How dare I think I would belong? Right?

Now, I know....and please spare me any of the compassion (if that really exists) and the psychological analysis...but I think I've carried that feeling with me around for years. I've always felt slightly outside of the norm, just by a small amount. Not enough for others to notice, but just enough for me to notice.

And I know it probably isn't quite "disaster plus time" yet, but I mentioned this the other night to Tim and he immediately found a passage in David Foster Wallace's book of stories oblivion...and he read it to me. It resonated. It is from the story "Good Old Neon."

"My whole life I've been a fraud. I'm not exaggerating. Pretty much all I've ever done all the time is try to create a certain impression of me in other people. Mostly to be liked or admired. It's a little more complicated than that, maybe. But when you come right down to it it's to be liked, loved. Admired, approved of, applauded, whatever. You get the idea. I did well in school, but deep down the whole thing's motive wasn't to learn or improve myself but just to do well, to get good grades and make sports teams and perform well. To have a good transcript or varsity letters to show people. I didn't enjoy it much because I was always scared I wouldn't do well enough. The fear made me work really hard, so I'd always do well and end up getting what I wanted. But then, once I got the best grade or made All City or got Angela Mead to let me put my hand on her breast, I wouldn't feel much of anything except maybe fear that I wouldn't be able to get it again. The next time or next thing I wanted..."

There is more, but like he wrote, you get the idea. I'm not saying this is exactly what I feel, but given the circumstances, it seemed like a good idea to quote it.

Now onwards...

I came home from an all day required grant writing workshop today (yes, on Saturday) and I had a reading to complete for a class. The chapter is from John Dewey and I realized this is what I'm suppose to be thinking...and it felt good. It felt right.

"Life itself consists of phases in which the organism falls out of step with the march of surrounding things and then recovers unison with it- either through effort or by some happy chance. And, in a growing life, the recovery is never mere return to a prior state, for it is enriched by the state of disparity and resistance through which it has successfully passed. If the gap between organism and environment is too wide, the creature dies. If its activity is not enhanced by the temporary alienation, it merely subsists. Life grows when a temporary falling out is a transition to a more extensive balance of the energies of the organism with those of the condition under which it lives."

There is more -again. Though I think for one blog, this is plenty. I'm learning to navigate and negotiate. I'm trying to figure out who I'm going to be when this all seeps in and I start to change into something else. I'm scared. Who wouldn't be, right? And it is isolating.

I mean who really wants to hear me talk about regression lines.

So, why the bird picture? Last night I had a dream that feels completely indicative of the experience I'm having. I dreamt there was a butterfly in my house...that turned into a bird. It was flying all around trying to find the outside. It seems obvious. Metamorphosis and trying to make it to the outside.

Corruption, Consistency, and Safe Mode

After an entire week of introductions and orientations, I had a pleasant Saturday planned for myself. There would be a flea market. There would be a farmers market. There would be the ever slightest reading of school work. There would be some movie watching. There would even be some socializing and drinking at the end of this well experienced day. I had plenty to do and I'm awful glad I woke up early enough to make all of it happen.

I figured I would do some work on my internet classes I'm teaching this semester, while listening to some various podcasts. It was delightful- and usually grading isn't. I listened to some of the new Okkervil River album, which I am now anxiously anticipating the release of. I thought I'd take a quick break for some breakfast and newspaper reading after printing out a few things. As I set my computer down to plug in the printer...it froze up. Oh, no problem, right? Just restart. Upon the restart- my computer gave me some crazy error message about not being able to show the "native images." What the fuck is a native image? There are tons of funny "I was about to..." going through my head right now, but I'll save you from it. The next two hours involved me doing things like crashing and restarting my computer over and over again. Then, I dabbled in starting it in safe mode. Then I had the disk checked for consistency a handful of times.

I flipped through the manual. And I came to the conclusion how utterly dependent on a machine I am that I haven't the slightest clue how to fix it. I've never been the kind of person who has a computer screw up on them. I'm the person that always thinks "Oh, computer virus...it is a culture of fear out there! It'll never happen to me." I suppose I better get some identity protection now, since that is also somethingI have thrown around as part of the culture of fear.

Regardless, 6 hours later...one phone call to Dell...and a few crying fits...I gave into the inevitable. I had to restore my computer to the factory basics. It was tragic. I was going to lose all my music on my Itunes and my photos. But, wait, what is that you ask? Did I back-up recently? Yes, I backed up some stuff. I hadn't backed up my Itunes- Who the hell has time for that? And I hadn't backed up any pictures since May. It took merely 7 minutes for my entire computer to be wiped clean. I don't think I moved an inch while I watched the bar inch further and further over indicating that more and more of my work and memories were being erased. Ha! How melodramatic, right?

I'm over it today. I've already started rebuilding my Itunes library. I'm up to C and D today. My mom yesterday tried to convince me to see the positive. And when I was in my hour of darkness and she called, I had to smile. I had my head in my hands, I was surrounded by old cds and start-up repair cds...and when she called, I felt silly. Why? My ring on my cell phone is part of the Hold Steady's song "Stay Positive." And it was just all put into perspective. In the scheme of it all, not that important.

Besides, did I tell you I'm seeing The Hold Steady on Halloween? See, there are happier days around the corner.

This traumatic Saturday did make me think about the way we capture memories though. I remember the whole situation that Ben Bridwell of Band of Horses experienced when he hollered at a fan for taking video on her cell phone. He wanted to know what ever happened to people going to an event and just experiencing it. To just keeping the memories in their head- without the pictures to prove. And the thing I was most upset about losing were my pictures. So, I tried to remind myself that I still have the memories.

And hell, after all, I've got my blog to remind me if I forget.

The Week of Rock and Sounds

I swear I'm not planning on providing you weekly with a play-by-play of my time in Nashville, but in particular- the first weeks seem important. They seem pivotal. They seem to be the experiences which I hope will repeat themselves week-in and week-out. I'm also not going to go into too much about the shows I saw, as I'll save that for the other blog, you know the one about music- www.musicismemory.com

Wait, did I just give my own other blog a shout out?

So, Friday of last week, Tim and I were to see our first real rock show since venturing to Nashville. We had tickets to see Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band at Mercy Lounge. Besides this, we also planned to stop by his in-store performance at Grimey's. The in-store was a bust, the rock show was incredible, including the moment I drunkenly stumbled my way up to the front of the stage for the encore. Sometimes, it is nice to be drunk and irresponsible.

Surprise, surprise, Saturday was a day I did not feel in tip-top shape. That being said, we had already planned a visit to East Nashville's Tomato Art Festival. We pulled ourselves together around 4pm and made a trip over. The festival was fun, except there wasn't as much to do as I hoped. We drank slushies, watched some of a fashion show, and walked up and down the blocks. Apparently, when you go to the Tomato Art Fest, you should be prepared to drink. I was not.

So, instead, we left and decided to attend Game One of a Nashville Sounds doubleheader. I was so excited to see my new local team. I already knew they were coming in last place, but hey, I love the underdog. Upon walking in, I discovered just how old this stadium is- but don't get me wrong, it isn't old in like a cool, antique, historical way....it is old in the way that they built the shit and never touched it again. We walked along creaky boards to find our seats. Some of the seats were cracked. Some were bolted in, some weren't. Essentially, if you were sitting in the aisle seat (which our lovely booking agent at the window sold us on), you have to completely get up and out of your seat to let the other folks in. This is not enjoyable if you are trying to drink your expensive ballpark beer. Don't get me wrong- I loved it. I loved every minute of it...and yes, with that one ballpark beer, I felt the Conor-Oberst-hangover quickly dissipate.

Sunday entailed rest, though with quick trips to Grimey's and the Farmer's Market.













On Monday, Tim and I were to attend our second rock show of the week. We had tickets to see AA Bondy and Bon Iver at The Exit/In. Before we made it to the show, we met up some friends at a nearby bar. We were meeting up with our new pals, Colin and Sarah...but also a couple of folks that are already in/graduated from the program at school. As you can imagine, the evening was mostly spent thinking/worrying/becoming anxious and freaked out about our first day of orientation on Saturday. Afterwards, Tim and I made our way across the street- just in time to see Bon Iver take stage. Excellent show. Beautiful.

On Tuesday, Tim and I were to attend our third rock show of the week. Are we getting exhausted? You bet. I never knew I'd feel exhausted by going to rock shows. I never thought I'd complain that I need a night at home. When I woke up on Wednesday, I knew there was absolutely no way my body was able to leave the house. Regardless, on Tuesday, we were scheduled to see Prabir and the Substitutes open for The Silver Beats. If I was collecting my top ten memories in Nashville during the 3-5 years when I finish with school, there is no doubt- this night will always find a place secured in the list. Since it was primarily a musical evening...I'm saving it for the other blog.

I've been resting since then. Week 3 is all about school. Orientation after orientation after orientation. Given the fact that most of these events start in the morning, I think our week will be far less exciting and far more anxiety producing.

Oh, Nashville...

One week into my residency at Nashville...And I finally exhaled. I finally have put away everything (almost). This past week has possibly been one of the most trying weeks of my life. I suppose that life changes always bring about this type of joy, frustration, excitement, terror, and confusion. I have never moved this far away before. Moving somewhere that was 4 hours away (Myrtle Beach) was tough, but moving somewhere 10 hours away was sheer hell. Why you may ask? One important life lesson I learned, take as little as possible when moving this distance.

For the move, Tim and I decided to rent a pod-like box for the shipping of the majority of our furniture and books. This ended up being far more complicated, stressful, and destructive than originally planned. For one, not everything fit. There were causalities. We lost our dining room chairs, due to a lack of space. We lost a couple of bookcases, due to a lack of careful planning in the packing. Note: It is not a good idea to put 30 boxes of books in the back of the pod, with cheap furniture in the front. In transit, the books came cascading down, crashing the furniture and breaking about 2 boxes of my favorite dishes and coffee mugs. Besides the obvious errors in packing, using a pod meant that we also packed the crap we own about 4 times.

After packing a pod, we drove a good bit of "stuff" with us...including the cats. Driving 10 hours with cats is not as much fun as you might imagine. Sabine apparently did not appreciate the fact that my truck is unable to run the a/c constantly. She yelped and screamed every time I turned off the air.

We arrived in Nashville on Wednesday night around 9:00pm. As we started to unpack the truck and car, it started to pour down rain. One of our friendly new neighbors informed us this was good luck. Now, how is that again? The first night here, Sabine was also so freaked out (she takes after me, apparently) that she didn't sleep at all. This also meant I didn't sleep at all.

Our first day here was spent with the fella from the cable company. Then picking up the rest of our crap from the pod people. Thursday was not a fun day. Friday was spent unpacking and jumping over boxes. Friday was not a fun day.

Finally, on Saturday, we decided to venture out into the joys of Nashville. In particular the one place we wanted to visit first was the Nashville Farmers' Market. The market is within walking distance from our new home and was incredible. The picture above shows our first purchase from the market. While living in Myrtle Beach, we often would frequent the weekly flea market, which also had a couple of folks set up with some vegetables. No comparison. The market here is overwhelming. I couldn't even fathom what type of vegetables I wanted. There were too many choices. We are actually still eating from the vegetables we purchased. The butter beans were excellent. Absolutely mind-blowing. Saturday was a good day.

Sunday was our record store day. We decided to visit one of the many record stores in town. The record store is Grimey's. Part of our reason for going to the record store was to get rid of some cds...to make some money for trade, but also to free up some space. Grimey's is excellent. Very cool. Very hip. I found a couple of albums there. Another note: I refuse to buy any more albums that do not come on vinyl with the cd/mp3 download. We also ventured down what is called Charlotte Avenue/Pike. There are a hell of a lot of thrift stores, not to mention the Target/Wal-mart/Lowe's.

Monday was one of those days spent unpacking books. Tim has an insane amount of books. Ever since we decided to move, I have been thinking about how to find a way to store all of the books. In Myrtle Beach, the books filled one of our rooms- mostly on the floor, going 3 to 4 rows out. This was not efficient. It was also hell for Tim if he ever hoped to find any particular book. So, we wanted to do something different. After researching numerous shelving options (and having been told by our real estate folks that we are not allowed to make permanent changes to the apartment), Tim mentioned the idea of the old college stand-by. Plywood and cinder blocks. And when we purchased 20 cinder blocks, the folks at the hardware store did not bat an eye. The shelves are up now. They look fantastic.

Monday night, we decided to venture out into what is often referred to as the "tourist" area of Nashville. Perhaps we missed the lights and neon and tourists of Myrtle Beach. We ventured down to Broadway. We had a few drinks at a bar called Robert's Western World and listened to a western swing band. We then crossed the street and had a beer at a bar called The Wheel. At The Wheel, there was a band playing covers...though, I think most of them were Bob Seger covers. Though Broadway seems a little "over-the-top", we are incredibly close to this area- and for the sheer excitement and people-watching, I think we'll spend a good deal of time down there.

Tuesday was the day we spent money. Anyone that has cats and blinds in their home know that cats love to break/bend/tear apart blinds. To avoid this, the cat-owners must seek out curtains to create a barrier. So, we went out spent an obnoxious amount of money on my new credit card to find the appropriate curtains, rods, and other necessities to start to decorate our new home. After the decorating is finished, I hope not to step foot in a Wal-mart or Target again for months.

Tuesday night was quite enjoyable. During the summer, I got to know some of the other incoming graduate students in my program. I always think day one of a graduate program can be pretty nerve shattering- so I thought getting to know some of the other newbies would be a good way to feel more comfortable with the program. In particular, I exchanged numerous emails with a fella named Colin. We discovered pretty early on that we had plenty in common. We both are coming in with our MA. We both love music. We both have cats. So, finally, on Tuesday night, Tim and I were scheduled to meet up with Colin and his girlfriend, Sarah. (I hope Sarah is spelled correctly.)

Meeting up with folks you have talked to over email, but have never seen in person is pretty funny. Mostly because you have no idea if the conversations you have had over email will translate to in person. You have no idea what they look like. It was sort of like a blind date for Tim and I with a couple. We met them at a place called The Gold Rush, which was pretty rad. We had a great time. And yes, the conversations and interests all translated. We all got along famously. I do believe this bodes well for our time in Nashville. After our drinks at The Gold Rush, we crossed the street to The Exit/In, which is a club where Tim and I will be seeing Bon Iver and AA Bondy next week.

Wednesday was a bit less interesting. It was another day of unpacking. We did venture down Charlotte Pike again to another used bookstore/records/dvds called McKays. We decided to take a couple of boxes of cds and books to trade. When our trade was processed, I walked up to the counter and the young lady working told me that we were given 209 in trade. I thought 2.09 sucked for all I brought in, until I realized she meant two hundred and nine dollars. Fuck yeah. So, now we have a credit that will keep us in free books and cds and dvds for at least another couple of months.

And finally today...we have officially been here one week. I have all the windows covered with curtains. I have unpacked my desk and set it up for the ultimate school experience. The last thing left to do in the house is to hang our paintings and pictures. I hope to finish this tomorrow. And it will all be completed. We will be moved in.

The week ahead brings promise. Tomorrow, we'll be visiting an in-store performance by Conor Oberst and his new Mystic Valley Band for free at Grimey's. We will also attend his performance at Mercy Lounge. Saturday, we'll be spending our time at the Tomato Art Festival in East Nashville...and hopefully, seeing my friend, Heather. Sunday, I swear I'm seeing the Nashville Sounds. When I finally make it to my first rock show and first baseball game, I think I'll feel like I really live here. In Nashville.

I ain't missing you at all....

When I thought about Myrtle Beach today, which was fairly easy considering the daily paper here in Nashville featured a story about Myrtle for their main travel piece...I thought of this song by John Waite.

Every time I think of you
I always catch my breath
And I'm still standing here
And you're miles away
And I'm wondering why you left
And there's a storm that's raging
Through my frozen heart tonight
I hear your name in certain circles
And it always makes me smile
I spend my time
Thinking about you
And its almost driving me wild
And there's a heart that's breaking
Down this long distance line tonight
I ain't missing you at all...

Here are some pictures of how we spent our last few days. One night was undoubtedly spent at Rockefellers. We had plans to meet some folks up there for our last Saturday night. When Jaime and Mikey arrived, we discovered that Mikey had visited a beach store to dress up for us. I think the idea was to laugh about tourists and to remind us of what we'd be missing. As the night wore on, there were tons of drinks, some tears, some dancing, some hot peppers, lots of photography, and some freak of nature feats. We had a great time. And it was then, while I drunkenly walked to the bathroom that it hit me how many friends we had at the beach, but also how much I would miss them. After all the outpouring of emotion, I mentioned to Tim that we should have said we were leaving much earlier. Particularly because it meant that after all the drinking- we only had a 3 dollar bar tab. A record, for sure.

We also spent our last couple of days moving. It essentially went like this...we packed a truck with our stuff, drove it to Dillon, packed a pod-like structure, drove back from Dillon, finished packing, barely cleaned the apartment, slept, woke up the next morning and packed the car. In the middle of all of this hell-like experience, we did stop to have our last supper with our neighbor Patrick. During this last supper, he managed to eat the largest plate of food I've ever seen.

The last morning, I took a few pictures. Because besides missing the folks at Rockefellers and Patrick, I realized how much I'll miss our "stray" cat, Gravy. Well, we named him Gravy. His real name is Batman. He adopted us. I considered taking him with us. I just couldn't imagine Gravy loving the urban life style. I have been worried about him. I continue to worry and think about him. If I think about it too much, I get a little choked up about it. It is tough when animals adopt you. And even harder, when you know you can't take them with you. It just wouldn't be right. So,I am sitting here in Nashville tonight- hoping that Gravy isn't sitting on my old porch waiting to be fed- but rather, I hope he has climbed a tree, caught a squirrel to eat, and then swaggered down Ocean Boulevard.

The End of the Bucket List

So, what happened with the bucket list? How did it all end up? Honestly, with packing and coordinating moving 10 hours away...some of the list fell away. I didn't play mini-golf. I didn't ride the pirate ship. And believe it or not, but I didn't perform karaoke. That doesn't mean I didn't rock out to some karaoke though.

What other items did I complete?














I had planned a trip to the Raw Barrrr. It was my amended #8. It shouldn't have been amended. I'm pretty sure that a meal at the taqueria would have been much more fulfilling. Tim and I did have one drink at the raw barrr. It was awful. See, the raw bar is located next door to a huge restaurant called the Giant Crab. The Giant Crab is one of those huge calabash type restaurants that generally allows tourists of all sizes and shapes to pay some astronomical price for "all-you-can-eat." Then you proceed to stuff yourself with various fried fish delights. The odd thing about these places is that they also have other items on the buffet, like chicken wings. Seeing as I don't partake in eating most of these delicacies from just about anywhere but the local area- the raw bar was no treat. It smelled of leftover fried food. The stench is apparent from pulling into the parking lot- or perhaps that is the smell of neighboring McDonalds. The bar itself is filthy. There are tons of tourists stuffing themselves around us. They sit eating crab leg after crab leg, while remarking how great it is to eat food from the nearby ocean. We made our way through one drink before leaving for a much more favorable bar, namely Rockefellers.













And yes, we did make our way to the lovely karaoke night with Cheryl Z at Pat and Mike's in Little River. Tim and I found ourselves at this establishment during our stint at the beach, while he was reviewing the restaurant. We were originally annoyed by sitting right in the middle of a huge karaoke fest, but after a couple of drinks- we were pleasantly surprised with the talent that was featured. So, I decided if I was to EVER perform karaoke- it would be this place. Our last Sunday in town, Tim, Patrick and I drove out to Little River with the hopes of performing. I had decided in advance that I wanted to perform Handle with Care by The Traveling Wilburys. I thought it featured plenty of parts for the three of us. Unfortunately, Cheryl Z did not have this number in her thousands and thousands of hits to pick from. So, I opted out. I wasn't prepared for anything else. And, I wasn't drunk enough for anything else. This left Patrick to perform, though Tim was still considering it up until the last moment.




















Patrick performed The Beatles' Ticket to Ride, which was awesome. The crowd loved it and he did a great job. I must say when he finished, I was a bit jealous and wished I had pulled it together for an impromptu performance. Though, I'm pretty sure that I made a pact with Patrick that we would perform karaoke in Nashville, when he visits.















Overall, the bucket list was a great idea. It made my last month in Myrtle Beach distracting. Perhaps I came up with the bucket list to avoid dealing with any emotion of loss or grief for leaving the place I wanted to leave for the last year. Not to mention, saving the option of mini-golf for another time just ensures that I'll make my way to the beach sometime in the near future.

Flying with Teenagers

3. Take a ride in a beach helicopter. Or perhaps go parasailing over the ocean.

So, I'll admit, parasailing may have been ultimately more exciting, but after my up close and personal experience with the ocean on the casino boat- and due to some financial restraints- a quick ride in a helicopter seemed to fit. I don't know if lots of people have been in helicopters. I never have. I was curious about what it'd feel like to ride over the ocean in one of the 'choppers. So I did. Today.

Since I was going alone, I had to wait to until some other folks came in- as each helicopter requires 3 folks. Finally, my turn had arrived. I was to ride the helicopter with two young men from West Virginia. Then the receptionist said we need to figure out our seating arrangement as based on our weights. The heaviest would be sitting in the back, opposite the pilot to balance the helicopter. Now, I know that most women would feel slightly nervous about blurting out their weight in front of a waiting room of people. Not me. And surprisingly I wasn't the heaviest.

I finally won over the two young men, when I joked about them being scared. We had bonded.

Here is the ol' helicopter now...














Here is the view from the 'chopper of North Myrtle Beach and Atlantic Beach.





























And all you could hear throughout the journey on the headphones was "AWESOME!" It really was. It was beautiful. It was also a little scary. It definately was too short. I could have spent half a day up there.

Airbrushed Turns To Tie Dye

10. Get an airbrushed t-shirt/hat/picture/jean shorts/raft of Tim and I.

As I mentioned yesterday, I decided to "opt out" of the airbrushing and "opt in" to the creative task of tie-dye. But why tie-dye? Mostly because of the following video. I'm not sure if it was the tie-dye t-shirt or those tight pants, but I watched Robert Plant's every move with a dangerous curiosity. It was then that I realized how f-ing rad tie-dye t-shirts are...and how badly I wanted my own shirt.



Apparently, they don't regularly sell RIT dye at grocery stores, so I found myself sifting through the craft section of my least favorite discount store. I do love the craft section though. So many projects. So many wall-hangings and birdhouses and scraps of fabric. Luckily, this soulless store sold a wonderful tie-dye kit. It came with the rubber bands, four colors, rubber gloves, and some dyed ties. It seemed like a good deal.

Here is is our process....






































And down below...the final products. At least two of them. as the others dry, I will continue to post.

An Update on My Bucket List

I've decided to make some changes to the bucket list...

I am changing #7. This item required my visiting the aquarium. I've always wanted to go- but in driving back from Nashville the other day, I realized that Ripley's has their aquariums all over the place. So, I felt it didn't really accurately represent a Myrtle Beach adventure. I've decided to swap out the aquarium for a visit to Broadway at the Beach. Now, Broadway isn't particular to the area- in that I can visit many of the same stores that you'd find in any mall- but this one has the nostalgia park for the pavilion...so I'll have an opportunity to ride one of the old rides from the now defunct pavilion. I have my designs set on the carousel and the pirate ship ride (per my students' request).

I am also changing #8. Now, I like the idea of eating at the taqueria- mostly because it haunts me as I walk into the post office every other day. But I started thinking about places I always wanted to go since moving here...and then I remembered a bar that Tim and I visited once during a vacation. So, I figured, I could eat a bean and cheese burrito OR I could have some drinks at a bar that advertises itself as the "raw barrrrrr." Need I say more?

Onwards to #9...Oh, Dmitri. I am saddened to say I don't think Dmitri and I are going to spend an evening sitting on my front porch trying to communicate with one another. How sad. But I did take a picture of him while he bagged groceries. I'll miss you Dmitri. Maybe next summer you'll come work on Broadway in Nashville? Please...




















And lastly, #10...the airbrushing. I did venture to an airbrushing booth- to find out I'd have to pay about 10 bucks for one license plate. It just didn't seem very efficient. So...after seeing a couple of tie dye shirts at the local Waves- and watching Robert Plant sporting one on an old live DVD- I was hell bent on making some tie dyes and then bringing them back into style. Making them hip again, not reserved for the Widespread Panic show that Tim is frequenting right now (hey, he is getting paid!) So, we made tie-dyes last night. They are in the process of drying and being washed- so prepare yourself.

Tomorrow, I'm off to my helicopter ride. There is no predicted storm. I've already checked.

Casino Boat Cruise From Hell: The Perfect Storm

2. Gamble on a casino boat.

I'm not sure why I wanted this item to be on my bucket list. Before I placed it on the list, it seemed like a damn fine idea, given my financial circumstances. I had never gambled before (unless you consider the occasional lottery ticket) and I had never been on a cruise before. So, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do. It also seemed more intriguing because I had passes that meant I only had to pay $10 bucks and I could board, eat, drink...all for free. It seemed perfect.

When I mentioned my bucket list to Jennie Ann, this was the one item that she seemed ultimately thrilled about helping out with. So, with her visit this weekend- we decided to saddle up and take our cruise on Saturday. Upon waking on Saturday, I noticed it was extremely cloudy outside. I looked on the weather site and discovered a small tropical storm was headed toward our coast. I quickly phoned the cruise line (which due to any number of possible lawsuits- I will leave the name anonymous). They informed me that the boat would still be setting sail at the normal time. I figured this must mean it was safe. My mistake.

Upon boarding, the first thing I noticed was there was no instruction, no direction. Hell, I had no idea where the food was, where the slot machines were, how I was to get change, and where the hell the boat was even located. A few wrong turns and we found ourselves being run through metal detectors and walking onto the boat. Hell, I was excited. I do believe the evening before I even dreamed that I won a couple of thousand dollars. Now, that would have been too perfect.

Jennie Ann and I figured that we'd grab a bite to eat before the boat took off. They had a buffet line, which featured a number of unfavorable veggies and some even scarier looking meat. I grabbed some green beans, some potatoes, a doughnut, and a muffin. And oh yeah, a sprite. There was something about this boat I already knew would make my stomach feel unsettled. The following picture I think communicates very well the exact glory and just how delicious the food was.













After eating, we noticed that people were already setting up at slot machines and tables. Apparently, you are suppose to locate the machine you'd like to start with- then place a piece of paper in the slot to indicate to all other gamblers you had reserved this machine. This was the fun part. We found a couple of .25 cent machines, which we then proceeded to try to interpret. Luckily, we made friends with an older gentleman that sat nearby. He informed us about how to use the machines, but also gave us hints about how to "win." We sat talking with him, while the boat began to motor up and pass down the waterway. It was beautiful really, as we started to pull into the ocean (into what are "international waters"). I was excited. See below.
















As we got further out in the ocean, we ran right into the storm. The waves started getting bigger. The boat was bouncing upon each wave. I started feeling a little uneasy. Luckily we asked our older friend to tell us interesting stories, which were about gambling, his Navy career, and some weird story about falling in love with one woman- then marrying another. As distracting as these stories became, I noticed something distinctly odd about my stomach. I knew that at any moment, they'd turn the machines on and I'd be a millionaire. But I also noticed that I had started to perspire a bit on my forehead. I started feeling sort of odd. So, I stumbled my way to the bathroom to throw some cold water on my face. While in there, I heard the speaker inform us that it was time. We could now gamble- and have free drinks.


Now, I'm normally a big fan of free drinks. Jennie Ann and I laughed about possibly having to call a cab home. But about $5.00 dollars into my gambling- when the waitress came waltzing over- all I could think about was that I wanted a sprite. And I needed one, now. We kept gambling. I won $30 bucks, which was helpful and distracting- but at the end of my first $10 dollars- I felt like I needed a little fresh air. The picture below communicates the dizziness and the unease I was starting to feel stuck on this casino boat, as it rocked back and forth.

















We walked around the boat for a while. We thought some fresh air might make us both feel better, so we headed for the sun deck. I'm sure the sun deck is excellent when there happens to be sun. Instead the waves were crashing all about, the rain was coming in sideways, and I swear I imagined myself slipping and becoming the woman overboard. So, we found a small table in the bar area to take a rest. As I sat down, the most bizarre feeling came over me. I was utterly and completely- seasick. I realized never having been on a boat quite that far out in the ocean...I didn't realize I might be one of those people. I became consumed with overcoming this fault of mine. Jennie Ann got me a sprite (yes, this would be the second among 15 of them) and a dramamine. As the moments passed, I felt exponentially sick.

I told Jennie Ann to go off and gamble and let me get my sea legs and before long I'd be back in action. I glanced down at my watch, it was 1:30. I glanced out at the crashing waves. I thought to myself how I had no idea how I would make it for the next 4 hours. I also started noticing that I wasn't the only one sick. There were several others.

Around 2pm, I found myself locked in a bathroom stall. I didn't think I was so seasick that I was going to physically be sick (like that), but upon entering the bathroom and finding that I wasn't the only one in there who was sick- everything got worse. I am speculating that I spent about a half hour, walking back and forth from the bathroom. During this half hour, I noticed that the number of people getting sick increased. It increased fast. I started to believe this was the worst idea that I have ever had.

I heard people in the bathroom talking. Someone was discussing how many cruises they have been on and how they had never been sick. Someone else informed their friend that this was the first cruise they had been on...and now, the last cruise. I concur. I also heard one of the medic folks in the bathroom discussing why some folks get sick and others don't. Her highly trained medical opinion is that those folks that get seasick are inherently afraid of drowning. So, "we" are afraid and this makes us sick. What the fuck? No. I was hoping we would drown. It felt like at that moment, it was the ONLY thing that would stop this horrible rocking.

That is the thing about bucket lists- sometimes there are ideas you have. Sometimes these ideas are horrible. They are bad ideas. What was I thinking? A tropical storm. A rocking boat. A casino with loud sounds and bright, blinking lights. People were smoking constantly. I had no idea that people still smoked. I thought I was the only one left. But this cruise told me that I'm in the minority because I don't smoke 5 packs a day. I started to feel like the moment in Knocked Up when the character Ben says, "The mushrooms are turning on me!"

Around 2:30 pm or so, I stumbled out of the bathroom. I needed a place to lay down. There were a couple of couches filled with other sick folks. I noticed a couple sitting close by. They were laid back and there was a small space near them. I stumbled over, looking all fucked up, and pleaded that they share the couch with me. They were happy to help. The fella informed me to put my feet up in the chair, sit back, and close my eyes. And you know what, it worked. Now, I wasn't completely cured. Far from it, but I felt slightly better. I did continue to cling my "motion sickness bag" in hand, just in case. After sitting there in the peace and quiet, Jennie Ann found me. She informed me that I might feel better on the bottom floor, closer to the destruction of those evil waves. I told her to find me a place I could sit back and relax and I'd try to make it down. This was the last time I saw Jennie Ann until we were re-entering the waterway.

For the rest of the trip, I sat on this couch. I didn't get any cell phone service- or I swear I would have called my mom and pleaded with her to phone someone to get me off this horrible, horrible boat. I looked around, even more people were sick. They were everywhere. Little white bags in hand. And that same look on their face that said, "Fuck this."

Around 3:00pm, I noticed that a fella wearing a black shirt, black jeans, and black cowboy boots started setting up his microphone and guitar right below where I was sitting. I generally love music, but every strum of that guitar...I started to question if I would be able to make it back to the bathroom. The totally obnoxious, real full of himself entertainer proceeded to make jokes about all the sick people. Apparently it was funny. I also noticed how many people walked into the bar and either laughed or looked annoyed that we were taking up all the space. I wanted to yell out to them that this wasn't exactly how I planned to spend my day. But I just didn't have the energy. So, in my normal passive aggressive way, I just burned holes through them and wished this same sickness upon them.

In the middle of the casino boat rockstar's set, he had to take a break. Mostly because he could barely stand on stage. I started to worry that maybe the boat might not make it back to shore. The waves were incredible and they were pounding on the sides of the boat. I saw an older fella, who looked like someone who had previously served some time in the military, jump up and head to the back of the boat to inspect. This made me very nervous. I felt like he knew something I didn't. And the whole time I wondered if Jennie Ann had won a million for us yet.

Finally, the casino boat captain decided we needed to head back. They made an announcement that we shouldn't move, because the boat had to change course and head back and they would try their best to get us "safely" back to shore. See my concern? The boat motor started, making a horrible, scary sound. After about 10 minutes of a potential capsize situation, they announced we were free to move around again. Right.

I don't know if it was the fact I knew we were heading back or if the waves started to die down, but I started slowly feeling better. It was now 3:30 and I was wondering if I would have a chance to gamble away the rest of my savings (the other $10). It was around this time that a mean lady informed all of us sick folks that she needed to clean the room and that we'd have to move into another area. I swear...and I never think thoughts like this, but I thought, what a see-you-next-tuesday. The couple next to me looked at me in disbelief and asked, "Do we really have to move?"

I stumbled out into the casino. The smoking. The lights. The people. The sound. The music. I couldn't find a solo slot machine to make my home for the rest fo the ride. I couldn't find Jennie Ann. I thought that if I distracted myself, I might could make it without using that little white bag. And that is just what I did. I gambled for the next 30 minutes. Finally, I had service on my phone again and found out that Jennie Ann herself became sick shortly after venturing to find a place downstairs for me. She was sitting on the first floor, at the bar, with her head down, hood on the sweatshirt over her head, trying not to be sick.

I finally made my way down to her. And that damn entertainer was still going. And then the most hilarious thing happened, everyone started feeling better. You could tell. He was playing some Motown song and you noticed people laughing again. They were tapping their feet. We had survived. And mile by mile, I felt the nausea subside. Of course when I saw an extremely large man order a cheeseburger, I felt a little sick again. As we finished the ride, the entertainer got out his "dummy" and started performing his ventriloquist skills. Uh-oh, was I going to be sick again?

But we made it. I broke even on many different levels. Jennie Ann and I stood right outside the door, anxiously awaiting to set foot on the ground. The more we thought about it and talked, we realized it was almost like surviving some type of natural disaster. And I felt fucking exhausted. It was horrible. Absolutely horrible.

The picture below, which is totally and completely unflattering portrays the sheer hell that we endured on that boat.














After leaving the area and driving back to my safe neighborhood in Windy Hill, Jennie Ann and I realized we had a hankering for hangover food. And that is when we realized that the experience of being seasick was ultimately like having a hangover. The worst hangover possible. And here was the worst part- we didn't even get to drink and have a wild, rambunctious time to lead up to a hangover. At times, hangovers can be okay. Because you feel terrible, but you can sort of revel in all the weird things you did the night before. We didn't have that. All I had was the same $20 that I boarded the ship with (hell I had even paid 10 dollars for this wonderful experience)...but all the repercussions of the hangover were there.

I'm pretty sure we didn't talk about anything else for the rest of the night. I'm not sure I'll be able to talk about anything else for a few days. It was traumatic. It was horrible. And I am pretty sure that I'll never set foot on another boat again.

I'm moving on to my other bucket items. I've just got to wipe the slate clean.

Baseball and The Bowery

Bucket List #4

4. Play the baseball game at the Fun Plaza (yes, again and beat Tim again) and have a cold budweiser at The Bowery.















the fun plaza. three rooms full of games. tim and i cashed in $5.00 and spent an hour or so playing. i spent most of my time playing the baseball game, which i adore so. i also played some pac-man and skee-ball. a lovely way to spend an afternoon. as much as i hate it, i didn't win- but tim did. see the photo album for a picture of tim with his winnings.

though i didn't intend- tim and i also thought it would be a good idea to stop by the gay dolphin for one last shopping trip.




















for those of you that haven't stopped by the gay dolphin, it is a great place to sort through old junk and new junk. in the past, i found some awesome michael jackson pins. this time, i settled on some vintage postcards, particularly some windy hill postcards (our neighborhood). i also decided this would be a good time to purchase a tennessee magnet for our refrigerator.





















and lastly...the bowery. the bowery in myrtle beach is one of the most famous bars in the area, if not the most famous. the bowery is not only famous on its own right, but is quite a famous bar for my family. now, i do have a disclaimer- i don't typically like to support places that are covered in confederate flags, but i felt that for once- i needed to stop in for a drink. one beer.

i remember hearing stories about the bowery growing up. my mom once told me a story about going to the bowery when she was little. my grandmother took her and the other kids with her to go out for the night. my mom remembers sitting under a table at the bowery, while the shenanigans took place. i can only imagine the images she saw...as feet shuffled around through the bar and loud music played from the stage.

as terrifying at the bowery seems to me, i felt it was necessary to stop in. we made our visit around 4:30 on thursday. the "real" bowery was not yet open, but the smaller bar next door was- the actual bar that serves the bowery. tim and i saddled up to the bar for our one drink. the fella running the bar joked with us and informed us there would be a two drink minimum. funny thing is- we ended up having another. at which time, he informed us there was a 3 drink minimum. then after ordering another, he informed about the 5 drink minimum. you get the point. we ended up staying for several drinks. when he asked where we were from and we informed him we live in windy hill, he asked quite plainly, "then, why are you here?" he was charming. he served us what he called "the bowery buffet", which was a bowl of popcorn. honestly, after the drinks, the bowery buffet was absolutely delicious. as the hours passed, the music got louder. i imagine that around 1:00am, the place was absolutely insane.

if you'd like to see more pictures of the event, click on the photo album below.

What Can I Find In The Fridge?

i think i've already explained the financial situation of my summer. i've actually gone through my closet a second time looking for items to ebay. i'm starting to lose all sense of sentimentality. if i think it might sell, i'm listing it.

this also means i have to be careful with my food supply in the house. being careful also equals being creative. i cook about a pound of dry beans a week. i buy cheap bread. i make use of all leftovers.

today, i wondered about what was left in the fridge for dinner. i opened the door and looked around.

there were a couple of avocados leftover from the 4th of july cookout. now, avocados are expensive. super expensive in comparison to what i usually allow myself to spend on fresh fruits and vegetables. besides that i think some people argue just which category the avocado would fall in.

what else was there?
some leftover tofu that needed to be used immediately.

so, i thought "what can i make for dinner with an avocado and tofu?" i quickly typed these two ingredients into google search. the second item that came up was this link

but...i don't have any yogurt. and i don't have brown rice. no black-eyed peas. no chili powder. man, this isn't going to work.

the thing about being frugal is that you can't give up too quickly. you have to think on your feet. hmm. i had some vegan sour cream that could fill in for the yogurt. i have white rice. i have some leftover black beans that were slow cooked with cumin and bay leaves. and hell, paprika and cayenne pepper will always help fill in the blank for the chili powder. i also threw on some leftover diced jalapeno peppers and green onions.

it was absolutely delicious. the kind of delicious that you count the hours until you get to enjoy the leftovers. i've only got to wait 16 hours.

My Floppy Beach Hat

#1 on my Myrtle Beach list has been accomplished. Check. 9 more to go.

Myrtle Beach Wishes

Now that we are in our final countdown of Myrtle Beach days, I thought it would only be proper to not only evaluate the last two years here (which will be done at a later time), but rather try to ensure I do all the things in Myrtle Beach that I should have done before leaving. Here is the thing about the beach- when you live here, the things like mini-golf, the ocean, and Ripley's Believe It Or Not sort of fall away. You forget there is a beautiful ocean across the street from your house. You forget there are some awesome (world famous) mini-golf courses. And despite all of your best laid plans, you often forget you should have at least gone parasailing once.

So, what are those things I want to do? What is planned for my final 30 days, though we are closer to 27 days now. It is a bucket list for my Myrtle Beach days. I came up with the 10 items today, while on the beach. I'm not saying I'm going to achieve all these goals, but I'm damn sure going to try.

1. Buy an obnoxiously large floppy beach hat.

2. Gamble on a casino boat.

3. Take a ride in a beach helicopter. Or perhaps go parasailing over the ocean.

4. Play the baseball game at the Fun Plaza (yes, again and beat Tim again) and have a cold budweiser at The Bowery.

5. Play a round of mini-golf. (I know, I know...there is a flippin' course about 2 blocks away...and we've never played. How about that Ripley for believe it or not.)

6. Witness and/or perform karaoke at Pat and Mike's in Little River. This one requires the attendance of both Tim and Patrick.

7. Visit the aquarium. This is the one that is the least attractive item on this list- mostly due to the droves of tourists that line the walls during this time of the season.

8. Eat at the taqueria next to the post office, while enduring confusing stares from the employees when I ask for beans only.

9. Get up the nerve to ask the Eastern European visiting workers that fill every single restaurant and grocery store for the summer to come over. I hope to find out about their experiences. In particular, we already have our designs set on Dmitri.

10. Get an airbrushed t-shirt/hat/picture/jean shorts/raft of Tim and I.

Apartments and Sports Bars

It is official. We've put money down on an apartment in Nashville. We'll be spending (at least) our first nine months in Nashville living in an area of town referred to as Germantown. As I ascertain more photographs of the new living space, I'll post more. I say more pictures, because yes, we put a deposit down on an apartment, we have merely seen 5 pictures of. So, after our upcoming visit, I'll have more information for you.

On another note, the other night, Tim and I were watching Anthony Bourdain's show No Reservations. Now, I adore Bourdain. I can't quite remember what distant land he was visiting, but I do remember him making a comment about an individual from the US that had relocated to this foreign land. He commented about the fella moving to this area and how his restaurant features food from the native land that he was currently inhabiting. He offhandedly mentioned how it was good he didn't move to this new land and open a sports bar.

I thought to myself that this comment seemed odd. It almost felt like to me that someone from the US moving to open a restaurant that represents "America" would undoubtedly be a sports bar. Really? Then I started to think about how here (in the US) we enjoy when new immigrants arrive and open up a restaurant that provides food from their native land.

So, then I begin to think that perhaps the comment was more about what "American" food consists of. I think I even felt a little offended. Now, I enjoy food from all around the world. At the same time, I don't believe that all "we" have to offer is sports bar cheese fries and mini-hamburgers. It seems to me that what is great about food in the US is that it is often an amalgamation of the various folks that live here currently. Of course, the food here has been shaped by the immigrants that make our country what it is. And this is why when I watch the Ken Burns' documentaries- I actually start feeling extremely patriotic. Burns discusses how baseball and jazz became what they are because of the very nature of this country. It is a country of immigrants. It is a country of various influences.

I'm absolutely the wrong person to be getting into any details about this....as Tim is better suited for this discussion, but there was just something about the comment that made me love Bourdain just a little less.

sleeveless shirts and such

i teach an online course...and in our discussion board they were attempting to explain where their attitudes developed about gun control. it always turns into a forum of pro-gun...but a student posted this comment this morning.

"Though I generally agree with the 2nd amendment, I think some people lose the right to bare arms."

ha. so, apparently the 2nd amendment didn't speak to times of war, but rather to tank tops and sleeveless shirts. and by the way, i agree, some people do lose the right to have bare arms.

Adventures in Real Estate and Other Things...

yes, i admit it. i'm a sucker for reality cooking shows. i discovered i like shows where the participant is responsible for producing something- even with a side of drama. so, i find myself watching top chef, hell's kitchen, project runway. i don't really like shows where a tangible product is not produced (i.e. american idol, so you think you can dance, bachelor/ette). regardless, i found it interesting on the finale of top chef last week the way that the judges responded to a comment made by finalist, richard (pictured above).

richard remarked that he felt he had f-ed up his final challenge. he made these comments at the moment where the judges had asked all contestants to make their last plea for why they should stay. he was honest. right as the contestants left the room, the judges started discussing how they couldn't believe richard just said that. and i paused and thought, "really?"

it seems that failure or mediocrity is not to be mentioned. if you feel like you have not created/produced up to par, you should pretend that you excelled. you should LIE. you should get in the judges' face and in faux-confidence inform them you are the best chef in the world, even though you didn't put any seasoning on the porkbelly. perhaps that was part of your plan. and even if it wasn't, you should act like it was.

maybe it is just me, but i think it takes more strength and confidence for someone to admit when they really feel like they screwed up. if a chef can't tell when they've made a mistake- wouldn't this make them horrible? shouldn't you know good from bad? i suppose my academic training has taught me there is nothing wrong with admitting fault. when you conduct research, one of the most important and final things you do in your paper/presentation is to tell the entire academic community where you went wrong. my method was not good. my sample too small. i should have used a different data set....see, for knowledge to be produced- it is ultimately important to see the weaknesses and strengths. to point them out, but to also pave the way for others. and you know what, it makes the research stronger, as well as the members of that community. apparently in the world of top chef, you should pretend you don't know the difference.

i wish that reality television was the only thing going on in my life right now. i'm currently teaching 3 summer classes. i'm trying to figure out how to move to nashville. and i'm trying to figure out where to move to nashville. a couple of months ago, i decided to buy a house. when i realized that i've given the landlord at my current apartment about 20K over the last few years, i realized what keeps me from rising into the middle class- real estate.

buying a house isn't as easy as i thought. you need loads of paperwork and loads of money. so, i've recently encountered a setback- namely, a job. so, now i'm grappling with finding a place to live in nashville for 2 months, so i can buy a house and then move twice- while starting my first few months of a doctoral program. what fun.

seeing as how i'm living from ebay sale to ebay sale (instead of paycheck to paycheck), i've been looking for all types of ways to cut costs. in case you aren't aware, there is a major price difference for spices in your grocery store. go to the regular spice aisle- generally where you can find sugar, flour, and other cooking/baking ingredients. pick up a jar of bay leaves. when i checked the other day, bay leaves in a jar cost around 6 bucks. but then venture a couple of aisles over...to the hispanic section (which by the way, does anyone else find it odd that this aisle is named "mexican" even though there is usually a more diverse hispanic population in the area?)...anyways, go to this ethnic aisle and you'll find spices for much, much cheaper. i found bay leaves (more than what you get in the bottle) for .79 cents. and it doesn't stop there...pretty much all the spices are much cheaper. the brand is badia. so go save some money.