My Peripatetic Friend

Oh, Jill. I do not have another friend with more stamps in her passport, who goes through more flights in one month, or who makes friends more easily in any situation (maybe dad can beat her in that one). Jill and I met while working as au pairs (yeah, be jealous) in Switzerland (ok, you can really be jealous about that one). We met early in the year and have been insta-friends ever since.

After leaving the glamorous world of child care Jill went on to take a job as a…well, actually every time I asked her what she did I could never fully remember (sorry!). I think it had something to do with marketing, sales, advertising, China, and Europe. And this job allowed her to scan the globe hip-hopping around countries almost at her leisure. I use the past tense, because as you will find out this job is no longer a part of her life. She is on the move again, in one of my very favorite cities in the whole world. Hopefully she will also find her way back to the States soon and enjoy being amongst the company of her friends and family. So, for today’s post, I will pass along the reigns to someone who knows far more than I do about being a broad abroad. Furthermore, I trust that she will also become a broad at home, like yrstrly, in the near future.

You are my friend, you are my friend... Jill and I at ZuriFest last year.

Kristina’s return to school has brought to mind a number of emotions for me. I think she’s brave for making a life in a new place (I think it’s infinitely more difficult to start over in a new place in the U.S. over a place abroad—seriously!), I think it’s wonderful that she’s pursuing something she really wants to do and is interested in, and I’m jealous as heck that she gets a fresh start.

Despite the turning of the actual calendar year in January, there’s a renewed energy in September. The idea of a fresh start, a chance to make a new change, is really appealing to me. Don’t even get me started on new clothes and school supplies (in September I have to fight the serious urge to purchase notebooks, folders, pens, glue sticks, even protractors, because I love the start of school and fresh supplies so much—and no, I’m not going to be a teacher, I’m not nearly saintly enough for that profession). Back to the point, I love fall because it’s a chance for something—anything, a new experience, a new wardrobe, new opportunities.

Although I finished school over two years ago (please do not remind me) I still think of my life in semesters. It’s a weird habit, but I can’t stop quantifying my experiences into “first semester,” “second semester,” or “summer vacation.” Perhaps it’s because my life still seemed to revolve around the school calendar; the year after I graduated from school I was an au pair and my schedule was created by the school calendar, the following fall I started a new job in a new place. My life seemed destined for change every autumn and I liked it that way.

This fall, being my third outside the confines of a classroom, was actually going to be a bit more repetitive. I moved back to Oslo, a place I had previously lived for my job during January-April, a place that was comfortable, familiar but a place I was actually excited to live in once again. Perhaps it was my subconscious need for change—well that and a multitude of other factors—that led me astray from my plan. In [very] short, I quit my job and moved to Paris.

So here I am, starting anew in the City of Light. Maybe finding a job, maybe just walking around eating croissants all day—all I know is that this fresh start will probably be my last abroad. I’m gearing up to finally locate myself in the United States in January. Maybe that switch will finally kick my “semester” habit and I’ll be able to think of years as calendar years.

Despite the wintertime change, I’m not counting on the January-move to rid me of my desire for new school supplies. A new set of pens and pencils every September is too great an urge to deny.

Jill, go here!

New Kicks

Look at these fancy new shoes I have!

Do you love how I "posed" my shoes?

 

First came the tennis shoes. My hip problems have not gone away entirely despite my almost-four week hiatus from running(!!!). When I look at people running on the street I am 100% jealous. If you would have told me that I would have any emotion related to jealousy in regard to running oh, about 5 years ago, I would say, You’s crazy! But I taught myself to run and made it an important part of my fitness life and now I can’t do it. Because it hurts. And this makes me sad (emoticon).

In response to my body’s rapidly-increasing dilapidation I have taken up more yoga, but of course you already knew that. I thought, however, that beyond stretching more and getting my body better toned, I needed to get new running shoes. The ones I bought a little over two months ago were wrong when I bought them, but I did it anyway. I thought I would allow them to conform to my feet, rather than feel super from the start. Hello! Amateur hour! Have I never done this before?! Stupid mistake. And now I have a sore (entire) leg, most markedly my hip and I am out an extra hundred bucks. BUT, I have a new pair of snazzy trainers (yes, that’s British, move past it).

In addition to my super fly kicks (again, just go with it) I picked up a pair of TOMS yesterday. I have been debating about these shoes for a while. Naturally, the purchase of a pair goes to a great cause, but I almost felt like a sell-out because every person in Charleston wears them. And I didn’t want to look like everyone else (is that so wrong?). But, then I got my head on straight and said, “Self, you have been thinking about these dogs for like two months. It’s a good cause. Get to the store. Right meow.” Seriously, that’s what my internal dialogue sounds like. You’re welcome.

Now I have two great pairs of shoes that I plan on scooting all over town in. Methinks my feet have never been so happy.

Like many people I like to read before falling asleep. Most of the time this is great because it helps me unwind and relax. Plus it helps get all the television gadgets out of my head so I can sleep well through the night (have you heard of this?).

Photo courtesy of americanthings.wordpress.com

Last week I finished The Road, which was a book I read primarily before going to bed since I don’t have much time during the day to read anymore (blasted school–not really, though). Now that I have had time to let it marinate and digest I conclude that The Road is seriously a great book. Not one that I would normally pick up, but definitely excellent. Reading it before bedtime, however, is perchance not the best idea. A couple of nights I was riddled with anxiety as scenes of “bad guys” hiding out amongst the trees and the man and the boy being forced to defend themselves danced through my mind. Cormac McCarthy’s images of dead people (specifically those hiding underneath certain floorboards in the kitchen) were especially disturbing and not exactly what I want in my brain-head before slumber.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm above (and small spoiler–entshuldigung) I would highly recommend The Road. It stands out not only for its unique style but also for the thought-provoking questions it raised (at least for me). A man and his son are left wondering years after the Earth’s apocalyptic demise. They walk along the road heading east to find the ocean…and then what? They aren’t sure either. Who knows what they will find when (or if) they will get there. They keep constant watch for people not carrying the light like themselves and always have to be on guard.

Now, I know this is getting morbid, but if I were in the same situation I’m not sure I would make it that long. Honestly. I know it’s terrible and seems rather lame, but the sense of hopelessness and defeat would surely be so overwhelming, I don’t know if I could take uncertainty and destruction for so long. There were a couple of tough emotions I was wrassling with come the conclusion of the book.

Photo Courtesy of uniqueyenmei.blogspot.com

Next up on the list is The Surrendered by Chang-Rae Lee. This novel chronicles the lives of two people deeply affected by the Korean War. The images of refugees fleeing and sometimes taken hostage, the painful and seemingly emotionless torture, and both accidental and intentional deaths are just a little much for me at bedtime so far. I’m about 100 pages in and totally hooked, but think I might need to squeeze in some extra time during the day for this one.

Morge!

 

I woke up this morning with this song in my head, particularly the line, “Oh man, what I used to be. Oh man, oh my, oh me. Similarly to Ryan Adams I have had a hard time catching on to Fleet Foxes. I first heard them several years ago by a friend (the same friend who introduced me to Ryan Adams, as it is) and I couldn’t get on the bandwagon. Finally, last year I indulged the FF and listened to “Mykonos.” I listened to that one song for a year and now with the release of Helplessness Blues methinks Fleet Foxes and I may have the beginnings of what looks like a relationship.

I had intentions of sharing this second tune anyway because of how superb it is. So I it appears to be a two’fer day. Huzzah!

 

 

I hope today is one of the best days of your life.

 

 

I’ll Miss You, Moby

Today we wrapped up Moby Dick in my 1850s literature class. We spent two weeks on this masterpiece and each day for the past 14 days I have spent an hour or

Aghh, my back!!

two reading it. Now, I feel like a small part of me is missing (or rather a big part since that whale is a massive monster).

Last night as Adam and I were cooking dinner he asked me an interesting question: Academic lens aside, did I like Moby Dick? I tried to answer objectively, but unfortunately found myself unable to do so. I liked the book, truly. But part of me is convinced that I liked the book because it was a challenging book and I understood it and I completed it. That made me like it. I would not have picked up this book otherwise, of that I am mostly sure. In tonight’s class, however, I found myself believing that I liked the book because it was a discovery for Melville while writing it, Ishmael (the quasi-narrator) was discovering while on the exploration, and I was doing some discovering on my own whilst reading it. So, from a further perspective, now that I have (sadly?) put the book to rest, I think I can deduce that yes, I liked Moby Dick.

But I’m not reading it again.

Next up in that class is The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne. We read The Scarlett Letter by him a few weeks ago and I am interested to see what he has to offer in this next book.

 

Photo courtesy of livingunbound.net

Take Me To

Look! Kansas City is cool!

The “Projections” show on the side of the new Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts is not to be believed. Seriously, I did not realize it was live and in the flesh, so to speak, until the very end when the fireworks went off and I could see the trees swaying in the breeze. The few seconds of cheering crowd also tipped me off…

Nevertheless, check out this video from Vimeo, a terrific site for videos (YouTube may have a bit of a monopoly there) and allow yourself to be amazed.

 

Fool Me Once,

shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, and I’m just a damn fool.

Last night started as an unassuming evening with friends. Adam and I went to a movie with another couple. It’s one of those places where you eat dinner in the theater and enjoy the creature comforts of home, plus a big crowd and jacked-up prices. Adam’s roommate suggested the movie and it was one I had never heard of: “Drive. ” All I knew was it starred Ryan Gosling (Hunk Face) and it was a recent release. Clearly, only skeletal knowledge.

I look normal, right? WRONG.

After the first scene I thought I had the formula figured out: the Driver (Gosling) is part mechanic, part getaway driver and after the first successful evasion from police, the rest will fall into place. After the first three murders I decided that, perchance no, I don’t really know what’s going on here. What ensued was a blood-bath to the highest degree. I’m talking like, I spent the entire movie in my own armpit to try to avoid anything related to the film. Did I mention that we ate a huge meal beforehand? I’ll spare the spoilers (’cause I know you are just chomping at the bit to see it now), but needless to say it was not what I was anticipating, which in fairness, was not much.

Unfortunately, this is not the first time this has happened to me. Several years ago I went on a double date sort of thing with my sorority sister Ann. Two dudes wanted to take us out on a school night and I may or may not have pressured her into it. The guys didn’t tell us the movie until we got there: “The Departed.” Hmm, not exactly what I would call a charmer. Clearly we were just arm candy because the real focus of the night was on the movie. Of course, “The Departed” is a great movie. I suppose I would have liked to be a little more prepared for it. Just sayin’.

muahahahaha

The next time this sort of shock and awe occurred was shortly after I moved home from Switzerland. I was home for three days when my friends Elizabeth and Beth wanted to go see a movie. Not having been exposed to trailers I had no idea what was playing. My friend Elizabeth said, “Hey, do you want to see ‘Black Swan?'” And I asked, “What’s it about?” And she says, “Ballerinas.” And I’m all like, “Sure!”

So, yes, going into “Black Swan” I’m thinking it’s going to be “Center Stage’s” cousin. What I got was a much darker, scarier, twice-removed relative that no one really speaks of. Again, “Black Swan” is a terrific movie, albeit a little disturbing. But, yet again I was caught unawares.

What I can say about “Drive” is the music was fantastic. Really great eighties synth with good rhythm that had me grooving for a bit. The music is where I peaked, however. I just can’t get into the heavy gratuitous violence, which I understand is really cool for some people. No judgment.

I guess I’m a fool. I happily agree to see just about anything, unless it has the words “saw,” “bonecrusher,” “corpse,” “paranormal,” or anything along the same vein. Next time, though, I’m doing my homework.

 

 

Ryan Gosling photo courtesy of cinemovie.tv

Natalie Portman photo courtesy of fearnet.com

Things That Have Been on My Mind Today:

Writing a 1,000-1,500 word paper for my Modern British Poetry class. After typing my heading and purported titled I looked at the word count and thought, Well, only 980 more words to go. Not a good start.

 

I constantly have to sneeze, but can’t. I feel it starting behind my nose, then travel toward my eyes, causing them to water. Nothing comes of it and I have to grab a tissue to wipe away my teary eyes.

 

The song “East Harlem” by Beirut is so stinking good. For realz.

 

I love David Sedaris. Sometimes I wish I could write stories as well as he does. I feel like the luckiest scholar in the world because I get to read his book Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim for a presentation in my Southern Literature class.

 

I bought this goat brie cheese at the grocery store last week and it is one of the best tasting cheeses I have had in a long time. Once it’s melted down I’m pretty sure I would eat it on anything–bark included.

 

I straightened my hair today, despite the threat of a thunderstorm. This is the second time I’ve straightened it since arriving in Charleston. The last time I did my roommate said, “Whoa! You straightened your hair, oh my gosh.” Then proceeded to laugh like she was really embarrassed for me.

Thoughts?

I really want to go to back to Paris. I was reminiscing with Jill yesterday about how great it is to live in Europe. Rarely do I forget that I used to be able to jet off to a foreign country for the weekend. That was cool.

I had a small patch on my leg scraped off to get rid of a suspicious brown spot last week. Today I was examining it before putting Vaseline and a band-aid on it and was reminded how cool the human body is. The skin just regenerates like it’s no big deal. Totally neat.

Book cover photo courtesy of goodreads.com

Mid-Week

Today is Wednesday! Why not get excited?

Sunday–I finished a paper/presentation, loaded up on groceries, and started Moby Dick for school

Monday–I gave my first paper/presentation (last paper I wrote was two years ago!!) and it was a success!

Monday Evening–Charleston just got one person better–ADAM MOVED TO TOWN!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday–Sullivan’s Island beach day with Adam (we can do things like go the beach whenever we want. Still can’t get over that)

Wednesday–Today! Work on two small papers I have due on Friday, go to class, then celebrate Restaurant Week at Osteria La Bottiglia. Oh yes, and listen to this song:

Dismissed

First, before I get into the real reason for this post I need to comment about the all-encompassing perfection that is my location right now. Kudu Coffee House serves alongside its incredibly tasty coffee a whole slew of craft beers. I’m sitting on their patio with an Allagash White while a fountain burbles merrily next to me, the sky is an endless, cloudless blue and I don’t think it’s been over 82 degrees today. Yes, this is excellent.

Now, for the real story…

Two weeks ago I received two parking citations at Folly Beach within two hours of one another. This is unfortunate for several reasons, the most significant

I wish he had written the tickets, then I probably would have been fined Goldfish or crayons.

being that each ticket came with a $50 fine. Ouch. Apparently, on the stretch of road where I was parked, there is no diagonal parking. So two separate officers took it upon their (probably chunky) selves to write me a $50 ticket.

Not being ready to accept this, Adam went back to Folly Beach to investigate the area for any sort of signage explaining that no diagonal parking is allowed. He discovered that there is none in that area and went to appeal the tickets. Naturally, he encountered a road block in the form of a schedule. The woman informed him that he could come on Friday September 9 to dispute the charges. This is where I come in.

Since he wouldn’t be here today I was charged with the duty of heading to City Hall to appeal the collective $100 fine. Now, I have had one other traffic violation: a right-hand turn on red where the sign clearly marked there would be none. This happened at the intersection in front of my high school, where I went for four years. Clearly, I knew this sign was there, but somehow blew threw it. Oh yes, and did I mention this happened on Halloween?? And I looked like

My friend Melissa, left, was a Housewife.

I was a floral bouquet. I had flowers all up in my face and the police officer (missing both a costume and a sense of humor) gave me a $110 ticket, which I had to appear in court to pay (double fee to get it off my record). So I suppose I am old hat at this ticket-paying-appealing game (actually that’s not true, and I hope it never is).

I showed up this morning at City Hall and it took about thirty three seconds for me to make my claim that two tickets in two hours for $50 each was excessive and absurd and for the judge to “Dismiss” one and lower the other to $30. Major Huzzah.So now here I am, sipping beer and trying really hard not to boast for fear that it will get me into further automotive-related trouble.

This song, while unrelated to the post, is something I have wanted to share for a while because I think it is so great. It has taken me a few years to take a shining to Ryan Adams. Is he country, is he rock, is he musical? I just didn’t know. Now, I just take it song by song. And I like this one.

Photo courtesy of wondercostumes.net