A couple of pictures

Ok - I stole a couple of pictures from Ryan and from Anna.




Monica and the Irish boys - Adam and Karl, respectively.



Erika in her stunning dress and awesome hair.




Erika and Timmy at the altar, promising to love each other and stuff.



Jessica, me, and Kaitlin, watching proudly.



And my kickass dress and curly hair.

Wonderful Week

Hello loyal reader(s)

I've had a fucking fantastic week, and I'd like to tell you all about it.

On Monday morning I was sitting at my parents' kitchen table, eating a banana and doing something really idiotic like looking at lolcats, when I realized I had an email. I started reading it and gasped, which scared my parents, who were in the room because there is no privacy around here. The email said that they had awarded me a full graduate assistantship! With paid tuition, a stipend, health insurance, and rainbows and unicorns and guaranteed happiness. I believe they'll even provide a boyfriend. I still can't believe how wonderful this is. I was worried for a while that I had no future, but now I have the best possible future.

So I'll be moving to the ATL in August. I'm currently apartment hunting (with the help of the newly minted Mr. and Mrs. DePalma) and trying to figure out when to go see the apartments in person.

This means that for the month of July I'm remaining a giant free-loader and traveler. I don't know precisely what this month holds - I had planned on being in Charleston for a few weeks, but I need to go to Atlanta, too. And at the end of the month I'll be in Denver. So...yeah. If you need me, call me, I'll probably be in America.

So anyway. That was Monday morning, and on Monday night the Irish arrived. This whole week I got to host two handsome and charming Irish men, which was pretty much like having drunk pets. They weren't interested in making their own decisions or being any trouble, so no matter what I suggested, they were totally down. I kept trying to come up with hilarious southern things to do, which mostly involved eating. We had grits, fried chicken, chicken and dumplings, pecan pie, Mexican food, biscuits, and iced tea. We saw the General Lee, went to a Civil War site, canoed down the Harpeth, sat on porches and drank, had a cookout, and went to two different malls. It was, to borrow their term, fucking savage.

They were in town because Erika got married this weekend. They used to live in the same apartment in Galway, where Erika was studying abroad. Anyway. Erika had her ceremony in Bon Aqua, which was roughly an hour from everything. Seriously - no matter where you started, you had a journey ahead of you. But it was beautiful out there - especially after we finished decorating according to Erika's standards. She did virtually everything herself - the invitations, the place cards, the menus, our hair decorations, the place settings, the table decorations, the jewelry she gave us bridesmaids for presents, etc. - and it was all amazing. I can't even imagine how she did it.

The ceremony was beautiful, the reception was fun, and the afterparty was drunken. I'm pretty sure that's all you can ask from a wedding. Oh, and I got to spend some quality time with a very funny and charming man. Oh, and my dress was dead sexy and my hair was flapper-inspired. I'll try to remember to post pictures soon.


Everyone left town today, and I guess I'll go back to being lonely. I'll need a least a few days to recover from a long week of partying, but damn - what a good week.

And then camel camel just laid down

Last week my parents got tired of me moping around the house and decided to send me to Phoenix with to see my brother. Essentially my dad said "Hey, do you want to go to Phoenix and stay in a luxury resort?" and I said "Yeah, I'm not busy".

So here I am, at the Camelback Inn. Yesterday I spent the whole day at the pool, gazing up at the mountain and being waited on by incessantly cheerful and tan young men. They seemed so eager to do something that I took to asking them whatever I happened to be thinking about at the time - things like "where can I get some Fritos" (tragically: no where) and "how onion-heavy is the salsa, on a scale of one to ten". They seemed REALLY happy to find answers for me. Like house elfs. (I've been reading Harry Potter again). Today I'm going to meet my brother's fiance's parents and then we're going to work on a new recipe for homebrewing.

Arizona creeps me out. Everything that's not brown is a slightly lighter shade of brown. There's no trees, and no water. Phoenix is very flat, and then there are big jagged mountains encircling it, but the mountains don't have any trees or shrubs. I do, however, like the cacti. I really like them. I keep stopping to examine different ones and physically restraining myself from touching them. I can't believe there are so many kinds. In my mind, cacti only exist as joke props for Wiley Coyote to land on, so seeing them just casually hanging out next to the sidewalk, as if they were some sort of normal plant, is really surprising. I also like Camelback Mountain itself, because it also looks unnatural.




What you can see in this picture (taken from my porch) is his hump and the back of his head. For a long time I thought he had two humps and a big rock at the front was his head, but it turns out he's a dromedary camel and the hump on the right is his giant head. It's like he just laid down to take a nap and turned into stone. I like looking at the Camelback at random times during the day to see if it's changed. It's best at sunset because it turns all red.

So anyway. While I do enjoy the lap of luxury (seriously, they make the beds while you're not looking and then come back and turn them down and then come back and make them), I'll be glad to get back to trees and river and especially the baby Phineas. Walking in the front door and not being greeted is not as much fun.

Time to go check on the mountain and do some high-quality reading of crime novels. Until next time, loyal readers.

Moments of authenticity

Earlier today I was striding through the airport, dodging all the slow people and whizzing past the confused ones, and I thought about how much I love airports. And especially how much I love walking through airports in a purposeful manner while dragging my rolling suitcase and carrying my tote. It's even better if I'm talking on the phone at the same time.

And this got me thinking about moments of authenticity in my own life. I feel alive and happy and purposeful in airports, but there are other moments in which I feel that I am totally myself. Such as walking to class, with a cup of coffee in my hand and my favorite vintage Coach briefcase slung over my shoulder. Or bringing a horse back into the barn after riding while teasing Phineas with my whip. Or standing knee deep in a river. Or reading on the porch (any porch) with a cup of coffee.

And now I'm wondering about your moments of authenticity, dear readers. Or possibly reader, singular. I don't have a fancy tracker to know if anyone reads this besides people who talk to me about it later.

Hmm. Someone just called me from what seems to be Roanoke, VA, but then didn't talk. Was that you, Julie?

Also - when did they start planting crops in circles? While flying over some otherwise boring parts of the country today I noticed that instead of the normal squares and rectangles, there were lots of circles.

Also - how much do I wish I could stick my head out the window of an airplane? THIS MUCH. Because I bonk my forehead on the window every time while trying to get a better view of whatever I'm looking at on the ground.

In which Dorothy and Toto go on the lam

My facebook status says "Goodbye, Knoxville" because today I moved out.

I left my Market Square apartment, I quit my job, I said good bye to a few key people, and I skipped town. I left like a thief in the ... mid-morning. Which is pretty much the middle of the night to most people I know, anyway. If I'd tried to leave at midnight, I would have seen everyone I know on the way out.

I left for several reasons. I was going to go at the end of June anyway, because I was just waiting for Sundown (read as: the Sundown money) to be over. But work had gotten progressively more lame and non-profitable because no shows are being booked because the owner has given up on the place and run all the managers off. Last Friday I made $18. $18. On a Friday night. At a bar.

And then, last weekend, my dog bit someone. He's an asshole, he's always trying to bite people, but this time he actually managed to - which was entirely my fault and for which I feel incredibly guilty. The person he bit stated repeatedly that she didn't want to press charges, but just in case, I thought Phin better go into hiding. His location is currently undisclosed.

In addition to all that, I got into the PhD program I wanted the most! I'm headed to the ATL. Coming on the heels of all the other changes, I haven't had time to relish that and celebrate.

So I was done with Knoxville. I'll miss it, but it was time.

Goodbye, Knoxville.