A couple weekends ago Adam and I were lucky enough to find time to escape to Asheville, North Carolina. I was even luckier to write about it for the magazine. I’d love it if you’d check it out over here: The Local Palate Blog.
Mostly, because I’m not really going to recount it here, since I already wrote about it there. See what I’m doing here? Pushing more of my writing onto you, only through a different avenue? Clever.
What a weekend! It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a tailgate, and I re-entered the arena in a grand fashion–by attending one of the largest tailgates in the world. Each year around 75,000 patrons grace the lovely lands of Camden, SC for a day of horse-racing. I heard it described as a giant cocktail party. And, that’s pretty much what it was. Food+Drink+Sunshine+Horses+Friends= Six and a half hours of Crazy.
Classy Lassy
Bettin' Man
While waiting in line for a prestigious Port-a-Potty, a young lady told me through a voice slurred with happiness that she was “so glad that I came today.” I couldn’t have agreed more. I am so glad to add the Carolina Cup to my Southern exposure.
Yes! I am in Charleston! I have an apartment and it has a new roommate, some of her things, some of my things, and ME! Mom, Dad and Courtney just left moments ago to head to Boston to do the same move-in process for her (how do they do it?!) and I am now alone to enjoy this new place I will call home for (at least) two years. I still have some things to do (I have absolutely no groceries to call my own, unless you count wine) but I am very excited to feel a little more settled in.
Um, it’s beautiful here. And it’s hot. Hot HOT HOTT. I actually might think it’s hotter here than in Thailand. Whoa. But, I will get used to it. Or I will suffer through it and then snigger at everyone at home when it’s negative whatever there and barely getting down to forty here. That will be nice.
I’m about to meet with one of my professors to discuss my graduate assistanship. I can’t remember if I told you that I earned an assistantship, so if this is a repeat, bear with me. For roughly ten hours a week I will help edit and publish an international literary magazine that has recently found its home here. The magazine has been in publication for over 25 years and has had its fair share of important literary contributors. After my meeting I will know more about the magazine and my duties so I will fill you in as we go, but I am very excited to be working on a project like this. As of now, editing and publishing are areas I hope to explore with my fancy degree (counting my chickens before they’ve hatched), and I think this will be the perfect introduction.
This is all very scattered because I can’t seem to wrangle my brain and let it just sit for a while. My mind has been moving like a maniac over the last few days and I am looking forward to a semi-relaxing afternoon.
This past weekend I headed toward the aptly named “Manhappenin'” with Stephanie and Beth to do some quality control at the university and make sure everything was still running smoothly. I hadn’t been back to K-State since my reign ended there one year ago. With a big basketball game on Saturday afternoon and nothing but time to kill and buddies to hang out with, good times were certainly upon us.
For fear of ruining my reputation and shaming myself into seclusion, I will refrain from sharing the grisly details. But, it was a spectacular time that involved an extraordinary amount of laughs and reminiscing. Over lunch, at my all-time favorite burger joint, So Long Saloon, Beth, Stephanie, Elizabeth, and I rehashed some of the best times we had while living together our senior year. We commented on what it would be like to zap back to those years when concerns drifted toward essays, tests, potential date party suitors (commence eye rolling), and how we could fit in all our shows on a week night. Besides this past year living in Switzerland, I can say with full confidence that those were the best years thus far.
I’ll leave you with this gem from Tom Petty,
“You have four years to be irresponsible here. Relax. Work is for people with jobs. You’ll never remember class time, but you’ll remember time you wasted hanging out with your friends. So, stay out late. Go out on a Tuesday with your friends when you have a paper due Wednesday. Spend money you don’t have. Drink ’til sunrise. The work never ends, but college does…”
On the Griswoldian adventure home yesterday we passed a car with Kansas vanity plates reading:
M8NDUSA
After living in Switzerland, where a lower number on your license plate equates to a higher social status, it’s funny to see these kinds of plates. I almost forgot about all that ‘Merican pride out there.
As for the road trip, seven (eight, if you count the two hours Matt was in the car with us) people crammed into a morbidly overstuffed Suburban to make the trip back to Kansas. We set out early to avoid a snow storm that we ended up riding in for a significant chunk of the time. Kansans, all the snow that has covered your lawn and streets came in on our heels.
The twelve hour journey passed by (oh, how I wish I could say “quickly”) with the aid of movies, books, thoughtful magazine literature, ipods galore, and a 6-pound bag of pretzels. We finally rolled home around 8:30 and it could not have been soon enough.
This song is for my dad and “bros.” They couldn’t get enough of this lyrical genius all trip.
Here are a few photos from the last few days. I never said skiing was glamorous…
Dudes about to hit the slopes
Dad, Matt, and Rick. Ah, memories.
Myself, Matt, Rick, Dad, and Courtney about to destory Schoolmarm.
I love this one.
I am a super-skier!
Pops and the girls.
At the base of my least-favorite part of Spring Dipper. I conquered you!!
