If you want to know anything about running a college newspaper ask me on Sunday afternoon and I'm sure I'll know. Curt and Versha and I spent about 12 hours getting here but we're in the nation's capitol making with the newspaper love.
The (second) best part of the day (after being in Washington D.C.) was having to stand up for the national anthem at noon in the Shreveport airport. That was colorful. As was the house long delay.
The worst part of the day was when the hydrolic system in our plane failed and we spent two hours parked in Detroit for them to fix it. Ah, small price to pay.
Our Hotel not only has a rooftop pool, it's also a beautiful 4 blocks from the Washington monument and it's not a bad place to spend a weekend, overall.
Wish you were here.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Friday, July 21, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Juicing: Not just for professional athletes
So.... my Jack LeLanne Power Juicer (as seen on TV) came today–a birthday gift from my Dad–and it is truly second-to-none as far as kitchen appliances go. It came with four books about juicing and it is centerfugal. How many other appliances can claim to be centerfugal? (shut up washing machines, clothes driers and the blender...)
In other news, Tim, Carrie and I went to a Bastille Party at my French Prof.'s cabin on the lake, and celebrated french culture by eating barbequed American food and paddling around in the canoe. In true french fashion, we were going to play badminton but we were le tired.
Even though all my newpaper staffers always say "I'm not doing anything, call me anytime to work," Tim and I ended up shampooing the carpet in the Conglomerate office alone. It wouldn't have been so bad if the carpet had been cleaned anytime in the past, oh, say, ever. The first run with the carpet cleaner seemed really awesome because the dirty water looked like watered-down Hershey's syrup... however after 18 passes over the carpet and 8.5 hours later the water still looked like the exxon spill of '89... sans helpless seals.
Anyway, I feel like I haven't really seen either of my roommates in about 17 years and it's kind of making me wish that school would start again so we could hang out. I'm also ready for school to start again so that I can stop making my own schedule, which might sound nice, but in fact results in many hours of hitting the snooze button. I'm still fitting 9 hours of work in on a good day, but you know you've gone mad when you work 9 hours and think you had a good day.
Tomorrow is Chris Parham's birthday. I'm supposed to find him a hot, rich girl who's not mean or crazy, so if you know anyone like that, let me know.
Oh yeah, and we're about to start pulling books in the bookstore so send in your damn schedule. Unless you graduated and then, I hate you, have fun getting a job.
And another thing: Tim and I have been together for two and half years today, which is a little more than 1/10 of my life. And we still give eachother goosebumps and like to hang out. You can't ask for much more.
In other news, Tim, Carrie and I went to a Bastille Party at my French Prof.'s cabin on the lake, and celebrated french culture by eating barbequed American food and paddling around in the canoe. In true french fashion, we were going to play badminton but we were le tired.
Even though all my newpaper staffers always say "I'm not doing anything, call me anytime to work," Tim and I ended up shampooing the carpet in the Conglomerate office alone. It wouldn't have been so bad if the carpet had been cleaned anytime in the past, oh, say, ever. The first run with the carpet cleaner seemed really awesome because the dirty water looked like watered-down Hershey's syrup... however after 18 passes over the carpet and 8.5 hours later the water still looked like the exxon spill of '89... sans helpless seals.
Anyway, I feel like I haven't really seen either of my roommates in about 17 years and it's kind of making me wish that school would start again so we could hang out. I'm also ready for school to start again so that I can stop making my own schedule, which might sound nice, but in fact results in many hours of hitting the snooze button. I'm still fitting 9 hours of work in on a good day, but you know you've gone mad when you work 9 hours and think you had a good day.
Tomorrow is Chris Parham's birthday. I'm supposed to find him a hot, rich girl who's not mean or crazy, so if you know anyone like that, let me know.
Oh yeah, and we're about to start pulling books in the bookstore so send in your damn schedule. Unless you graduated and then, I hate you, have fun getting a job.
And another thing: Tim and I have been together for two and half years today, which is a little more than 1/10 of my life. And we still give eachother goosebumps and like to hang out. You can't ask for much more.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Make me an offer I can't resist...
This has been the epitome of awesome weeks. New Orleans has proven to be the perfect home for half of those people who graduated, even though I told them not to. Jared and Debbie have a great townhouse apartment just off of Magazine Street and a short walk from (ahhhhh...) Whole Foods. Everyone else lives around town and we all gathered at Debbie's house in Slidell for the fourth. This is a picture of Jared and me fishing in Debbie's back yard. I'm not joking. I can't even tell you how amazing it was to spend the day on the canal, tubing, canoeing, drinking, fishing, eating, boating, eating, swimming, and eating. And Kakie is a photographer in the making, as well as a fine fisher(wo?)man. She, Jared and I almost got killed by a six-foot allegator gar. We lived, but with no fish to show for it.Because of this whole adventure I missed three days of work, but honestly, I can't say I really missed them. It seems like I've worked a lot in the past four days to make up for it, but I've still managed to see Pirates of the Caribbean, part deux, buy a spectacular bridesmaid dress for Kristin's wedding, have a taco salad party, fix my bike tires, nearly finish fixing the Conglomerate office and help Amy rearrange the living room.
And yesterday the boys who live over on Dudley St. had a Meat Festival, which featured 12 different kinds of meat. Normally, I would be at least a little opposed to that, for gastronomical reasons, if not just moral one, but it was irresistable. Darren, Ryan and Paul have turned grilling into a fine art. Les beaux arts de la viande.
This summer has gone so fast, it's almost unbelievable. Le bel art de l'été.
Oh yes, and here are my prize-winning grandparents, as well as Tim getting attacked by floozies in the parade (more of my relatives) at Pioneer Days.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Pardon Me, Do You Have Any Grey Poupon?
I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes
-And-
I certainly haven't been spreading myself around.
I still only travel by foot and by foot it's a slow climb,
But I'm good at being uncomfortable, so I can't stop changing all the time.
-F. Apple
----------------------------------
Oh, first summer away from Colorado, how weird thou art. I've been discovering all sorts of things about the nature of my own character since school let out and the summer of a million jobs commenced. Even Dr. Kim said to me today, "Speaking of Advisor stuff–I think you're working to much this summer." And it's true. After four years off the parental payroll, I've learned the one thing that I'm patently obsessed with, and distracted by, is getting paid. It's not that I'm addicted to gambling or robbing old ladies, it's just that I'm terrified of poverty and all of its traits.
Living without heat in the house sucked. Eating ramen everyday sucks. Not being able to spring for a movie ticket sucks. Not being able to afford a plane ticket home, that sucks more than anything. And I have no desire to ever live that way again (let alone now). Meanwhile I'm working myself into a froth and I still can't ever pay off that last bit of debt from Europe and this Computer. (Oh Mac, I love you and the financial ruin into which you threw me.) A lady doesn't talk about her finances, I'm sure, but you've probably already noticed that if you call and ask where I am at any given time I'll say, "At work," or "In bed–I have work tomorrow."
Bo-ring.
With financial aid cut back by $2,500 each semester this year, (no love for the fifth-year student), if you know anyone in the market for a kidney, I've got one (part of a set, lightly used).
Paying rent and electric and the phone bill is nice, and all that, but I've also learned this summer that what I really don't want to lose is my pantry. Being poor and eating nothing but hotdogs (no offence to the noble foodstuff) and canned soup is about the fastest way to make me miserable and cranky. I love looking at all of the random ingredients on that pantry shelf and knowing that, oh yes, one day I will have eaten them all. And it will have been glorious.
I lament that my (girly) roommates (which includes Kristin, even though she doesn't live here and has her own people to cook for) and I only cook together about once every six months, but I suppose they're in the same boat I am, as far as working and being a slave to the paycheck. Digital cable is expensive. But on the bright side, I'm also fortunate enough to live with people who are busy doing interesting, exciting things (like working at Red River Radio, coaching a kids' swim team, and writing a paper about the Iraqi voting system) in their "spare" time rather than scratching themselves and watching Kung Fu 24-7.
Shameless overachievers, the lot of them. (Though if you could scratch yourself and watch Kung Fu for a solid week, that should be considered an achievement as well.)
Please, if you have any exciting plans for Sunday, let me know. It's my only day off this two weeks and for God's sake I want to do something utterly pointless. Give me a call.
-And-
I certainly haven't been spreading myself around.
I still only travel by foot and by foot it's a slow climb,
But I'm good at being uncomfortable, so I can't stop changing all the time.
-F. Apple
----------------------------------
Oh, first summer away from Colorado, how weird thou art. I've been discovering all sorts of things about the nature of my own character since school let out and the summer of a million jobs commenced. Even Dr. Kim said to me today, "Speaking of Advisor stuff–I think you're working to much this summer." And it's true. After four years off the parental payroll, I've learned the one thing that I'm patently obsessed with, and distracted by, is getting paid. It's not that I'm addicted to gambling or robbing old ladies, it's just that I'm terrified of poverty and all of its traits.
Living without heat in the house sucked. Eating ramen everyday sucks. Not being able to spring for a movie ticket sucks. Not being able to afford a plane ticket home, that sucks more than anything. And I have no desire to ever live that way again (let alone now). Meanwhile I'm working myself into a froth and I still can't ever pay off that last bit of debt from Europe and this Computer. (Oh Mac, I love you and the financial ruin into which you threw me.) A lady doesn't talk about her finances, I'm sure, but you've probably already noticed that if you call and ask where I am at any given time I'll say, "At work," or "In bed–I have work tomorrow."
Bo-ring.
With financial aid cut back by $2,500 each semester this year, (no love for the fifth-year student), if you know anyone in the market for a kidney, I've got one (part of a set, lightly used).
Paying rent and electric and the phone bill is nice, and all that, but I've also learned this summer that what I really don't want to lose is my pantry. Being poor and eating nothing but hotdogs (no offence to the noble foodstuff) and canned soup is about the fastest way to make me miserable and cranky. I love looking at all of the random ingredients on that pantry shelf and knowing that, oh yes, one day I will have eaten them all. And it will have been glorious.
I lament that my (girly) roommates (which includes Kristin, even though she doesn't live here and has her own people to cook for) and I only cook together about once every six months, but I suppose they're in the same boat I am, as far as working and being a slave to the paycheck. Digital cable is expensive. But on the bright side, I'm also fortunate enough to live with people who are busy doing interesting, exciting things (like working at Red River Radio, coaching a kids' swim team, and writing a paper about the Iraqi voting system) in their "spare" time rather than scratching themselves and watching Kung Fu 24-7.
Shameless overachievers, the lot of them. (Though if you could scratch yourself and watch Kung Fu for a solid week, that should be considered an achievement as well.)
Please, if you have any exciting plans for Sunday, let me know. It's my only day off this two weeks and for God's sake I want to do something utterly pointless. Give me a call.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Colorful Colorado
Colorado was, and remains, a majestic towering state of glory. And thanks to Tim, my dad, my mom and my grandma, I had a great birthday that lasted for a week and about 2,500 miles.
Tim and I drove all the way and listened to some 12-odd hours of Moby Dick on CD. Talk about an experience... 15 hours in the car, Tim behind the wheel (because I'm a slouch with no driver's license), 500 coke cans and candy wrappers and the greatest story ever told about a whale, told by the most boring person to ever read a book-on-tape. It was alright though, Herman Melville had a sense of humor and Tim was sensitive to my car-ride narcolepsy. I'm lucky if I can stay awake on the drive to the Library so... here's to me never getting behind the wheel.
Anyway, Colorado is tall and green and amazing all the time. We spent two days in Boulder with my Dad and my grandma, who just had hip replacement surgury. She's a trooper. Interestingly, our last day there we went to the "Body Worlds" exibit at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science where we spent two hours looking at dead human bodies that have been plastinated. Among the exibits was a pelvis with a hip replacement in it. The exibit is one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life. You forget that they're real dead people until you get to the ones that still have skin. And then the combination of not having anything to eat all day, seeing body parts everywhere and standing up for two hours combines into a lovely shade of nausiated.
We didn't see a single dead body the whole time we were at my Mom's in Crawford. We bought day fishing licenses and caught approximately not one single fish. But we did get to watch the Pioneer Days fireworks and grill at the lake. My grandparent's were king and queen of Pioneer Days (which is my town's annual festival of firetrucks. Not really.), which makes me some sort of Duchess, I believe.
I'll publish pictures soon, I mean, it only took me a week and a half to write about it all.
OH MY GOD, I almost forgot. TIM GOT ME A LEMON TREE FOR MY BIRTHDAY.
I feel like we've adopted a charming and fashionable child from Asia or Africa ala Angelina Jolie. The Tree is a Meyer (Improved) Lemon, which is specially suited to living indoors, although it's also happy outdoors. It's a three-year-old, lovingly-raised tree that will bear fruit almost all year round and I AM SO EXCITED. OH MY GOD.
Seriously, I haven't been this excited about something since, like, a week ago when we left for Colorado.
Things have been great. Life feels good. I work all the time, but it's enjoyable. My house is full and summer allows me to be more of a hippy than ever. Come visit and see Tim's penthouse upstairs...
Tim and I drove all the way and listened to some 12-odd hours of Moby Dick on CD. Talk about an experience... 15 hours in the car, Tim behind the wheel (because I'm a slouch with no driver's license), 500 coke cans and candy wrappers and the greatest story ever told about a whale, told by the most boring person to ever read a book-on-tape. It was alright though, Herman Melville had a sense of humor and Tim was sensitive to my car-ride narcolepsy. I'm lucky if I can stay awake on the drive to the Library so... here's to me never getting behind the wheel.
Anyway, Colorado is tall and green and amazing all the time. We spent two days in Boulder with my Dad and my grandma, who just had hip replacement surgury. She's a trooper. Interestingly, our last day there we went to the "Body Worlds" exibit at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science where we spent two hours looking at dead human bodies that have been plastinated. Among the exibits was a pelvis with a hip replacement in it. The exibit is one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life. You forget that they're real dead people until you get to the ones that still have skin. And then the combination of not having anything to eat all day, seeing body parts everywhere and standing up for two hours combines into a lovely shade of nausiated.We didn't see a single dead body the whole time we were at my Mom's in Crawford. We bought day fishing licenses and caught approximately not one single fish. But we did get to watch the Pioneer Days fireworks and grill at the lake. My grandparent's were king and queen of Pioneer Days (which is my town's annual festival of firetrucks. Not really.), which makes me some sort of Duchess, I believe.
I'll publish pictures soon, I mean, it only took me a week and a half to write about it all.
OH MY GOD, I almost forgot. TIM GOT ME A LEMON TREE FOR MY BIRTHDAY.
I feel like we've adopted a charming and fashionable child from Asia or Africa ala Angelina Jolie. The Tree is a Meyer (Improved) Lemon, which is specially suited to living indoors, although it's also happy outdoors. It's a three-year-old, lovingly-raised tree that will bear fruit almost all year round and I AM SO EXCITED. OH MY GOD.
Seriously, I haven't been this excited about something since, like, a week ago when we left for Colorado.
Things have been great. Life feels good. I work all the time, but it's enjoyable. My house is full and summer allows me to be more of a hippy than ever. Come visit and see Tim's penthouse upstairs...
Sunday, June 04, 2006
The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on Fire...
Well, the Pussycat Palace is now, officially, The Pussycat + Tomcat Palace. We just got finished moving all of Tim's things into the house, upstairs into the space that I consistantly think of as "the loft" even though there's nothing remotely loft-like about it, other than that it occupies the second floor. We I say "we" moved Tim's things in, I mean Tim's family moved things in while I made room in the house for it all.
I just got finished jerry-rigging, and trumping up Tim's IKEA bed and I must say, three trips to Lowe's later, that bad boy is like a battleship of dependable comfort and style (Thanks for nothing, Sweden). I can't predict at all what it's going to be like for all four of us to live her, but I'm kind of glad that we're going to Colorado first. (Oh yeah, we're going to Colorado for the whole week for my birthday. Get out of my way, Texas and New Mexico.)
That way if it turns out that I really am a heinous nit-picking know-it-all and Tim is a terrible messy slouch, then at least it won't ruin our vacation. Cheery, eh? Optimism at it's finest.
Really, I think that it should be a blast. I'm glad that he lives closer now (a lot closer), but that we're not thrown into some little, lonely apartment somewhere away from everyone. I love living with Kacie and Amy and all the pink and purple frou-frou, crazy, hectic over-achieving and dish-ignoring, roof-sun-bathing glory.
Now it will just have a twist of sports trivia, Pearl Jam, piles-o-socks, chicken fingers glory as well.
I just got finished jerry-rigging, and trumping up Tim's IKEA bed and I must say, three trips to Lowe's later, that bad boy is like a battleship of dependable comfort and style (Thanks for nothing, Sweden). I can't predict at all what it's going to be like for all four of us to live her, but I'm kind of glad that we're going to Colorado first. (Oh yeah, we're going to Colorado for the whole week for my birthday. Get out of my way, Texas and New Mexico.)
That way if it turns out that I really am a heinous nit-picking know-it-all and Tim is a terrible messy slouch, then at least it won't ruin our vacation. Cheery, eh? Optimism at it's finest.
Really, I think that it should be a blast. I'm glad that he lives closer now (a lot closer), but that we're not thrown into some little, lonely apartment somewhere away from everyone. I love living with Kacie and Amy and all the pink and purple frou-frou, crazy, hectic over-achieving and dish-ignoring, roof-sun-bathing glory.
Now it will just have a twist of sports trivia, Pearl Jam, piles-o-socks, chicken fingers glory as well.
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