Home is home. I've been spending about 90% of my time in Edgewood with my mom. I'm kind of feeling the pressure of constant hangout-ness. While the people I've seen over the past few days bring me nothing but comfort, I'm still missing a little bit of solitude. I miss just hanging out in my room, on the internet, and listening to music. OH. Those were the days.
I get a bit of that with my mom, as I do have "a room" there. But this room is piled high with boxes and bags, all my earthy possesions are split between that room and my boyfriend's closet. So, it's wierd, to sit on my actual bed, which is stacked on top of another bed, and just look at all your "stuff". Your life. In a box.
I'm currently perched atop the Golden West Saloon, watching a band load out. I've been doing some work here, playing catch-up on some office stuff. It's been okay, even the slightest hint of work sends anxiety up my spine. Oh, how I am enjoying my time off.
A big part of me feels like I never left. Well, I guess it wasn't that long. But, minus the whole carting my life around in a few bags thing, everything's about the same, I'm in my little Burque groove. Not bad, not good, just there and repetative. It's a little mudane, but in that, also comforting.
Tonight, I went to see Revolting Drag Queens at the Vortex. Burque peeps, if you find yourself with nothing to do on a weekend night, please, please, PLEASE go. It was the funnest theater experience I've had in a while. Safe to say, the ladies of The Dolls, have won my vote for the second best performance troupe in Albuquerque. :)
Sadly, all this climate change and lack of money has left my face pretty broken out. To the point of being painful. You know, acne's not supossed to last forever.
Hopefully, I head out for California after the 4th, if money allows. I'm excited to spend time by the ocean.
6.26.2007
Making change is haaaaaard!
NEWSFLASH: Holy God, there is a Taco Bueno on San Mateo now. I almost wrecked my car when I saw it.
BLOG: Last night, me and Kenneth decided to go to Macs Steak in the Ruf for dinner, an old standby for us. We get there, we order. Our total is $19.03. So, we get out a 20 dollar bill and 3 pennies, $20.03. Simple enough.
As we’re waiting, we see these two high school cholas get into a car any say, “What a dumb bitch!” in unison.
The girl comes out with our food on a shiny new red tray. After searching the rather basic receipt for at least 30 seconds, she says, “Your total is $19.03.”
“Okay,” says I, handing her the $20.03.
She immediately deposits 97 cents in my hand. I look at her a little bit perplexed.
“Is that right?” she says.
“Actually, I gave you $20.03, so I should get a dollar back,” I say, handing her the change.
She takes it back, stares at it, and says, “So, wait, what?”
“Well, the total was $19.03, so I gave you $20.03. I should get a dollar for change.” (Keep in mind this whole time me and Kenneth were planning on giving her the dollar.)
It takes her a second to react. “Um, I don’t get it,” she says, still staring at the change.
“I just need a dollar back. Not the 97 cents, I gave you three pennies to make up for it.”
No response, still staring at the change.
“Okay. I’m gonna go inside and get you some… straws,” she says. She scurries off.
Kenneth and me sit there for about 3 minutes, waiting for straws. They never come. Clearly, this girl is not coming back and she had NO idea what just happened.
“I don’t think she’s coming back,” I say.
“Wanna steal their tray?” Kenneth says.
“Sure.”
So, I guess we paid a dollar for a nice, new serving tray, which we are actively searching out uses for, other than hitting one another with.
BLOG: Last night, me and Kenneth decided to go to Macs Steak in the Ruf for dinner, an old standby for us. We get there, we order. Our total is $19.03. So, we get out a 20 dollar bill and 3 pennies, $20.03. Simple enough.
As we’re waiting, we see these two high school cholas get into a car any say, “What a dumb bitch!” in unison.
The girl comes out with our food on a shiny new red tray. After searching the rather basic receipt for at least 30 seconds, she says, “Your total is $19.03.”
“Okay,” says I, handing her the $20.03.
She immediately deposits 97 cents in my hand. I look at her a little bit perplexed.
“Is that right?” she says.
“Actually, I gave you $20.03, so I should get a dollar back,” I say, handing her the change.
She takes it back, stares at it, and says, “So, wait, what?”
“Well, the total was $19.03, so I gave you $20.03. I should get a dollar for change.” (Keep in mind this whole time me and Kenneth were planning on giving her the dollar.)
It takes her a second to react. “Um, I don’t get it,” she says, still staring at the change.
“I just need a dollar back. Not the 97 cents, I gave you three pennies to make up for it.”
No response, still staring at the change.
“Okay. I’m gonna go inside and get you some… straws,” she says. She scurries off.
Kenneth and me sit there for about 3 minutes, waiting for straws. They never come. Clearly, this girl is not coming back and she had NO idea what just happened.
“I don’t think she’s coming back,” I say.
“Wanna steal their tray?” Kenneth says.
“Sure.”
So, I guess we paid a dollar for a nice, new serving tray, which we are actively searching out uses for, other than hitting one another with.
6.24.2007
Satellite WiFi Killer.
First and foremost, I need to congratulate Matt and Melanie on having their son, Caden Jakob, last week.
Oh, Matthew, how far we've come from dying our hair in motel bathrooms and taking way too much No Doze at 4am. Now, we're.... adults? Well, probably not quite. But still, I'm sure both of them are going to kick the crap out of parenting.
Well, true story, I'm in Albuquerque. Kinda didn't want to make a big deal about it, since I've only been gone a few weeks. But, I got offered a bartending gig and a couple other opportunities to make money presented themselves. So, here I be. Mass apologies to BN for not being in attendance last night. I've bee fighting off a cold all week and it seems that yesterday, after a full night of bartending, I was dead. I actually managed to fall asleep in the Golden West while there was a show going on. I was impressed with myself. I think the cold managed to drain itself into my brain and I was dizzy and discombobulated all day yesterday. Not exactly the state I needed to be in at the Launchpad. But, I did have every intention of showing up, and once again, I apologize I wasn't there. I was pretty sad about it.
I left Norman on Thursday. I was actually a little sad about it. I'm thinking of ways I might be able to make money there, spend a little bit more time there, etc. We shall see. I stayed Thursday night in Pampa emmereffing Texas, where my dad lives/used to work. No one was at his house, we was in Tucumcari, his wife was on a religious retreat, and her kids in Washington. So, I got the nice, little house all to myself, something very welcoming. The thing about traveling is that I'm with someone almost 24/7. For the most part, I'm a solitary primate, I like my space. So, just being able to lay around on the couch and watch all the cable TV I could fit into my brain, was great.
I told my dad, "Pampa Texas isn't the middle of no where, but you can see it from there." My dad's family has lots of roots in the Texas panhandle and my dad took the Chamber of Commerce job there for a few years. I spent some Christmas's there, with my uncle and extended family. Also, when I went overseas when I was 16, the tour group I went with was based out of Pampa. It's pretty typical small town America; local sports are god, everyone hangs out at the Sonic, and I'm pretty sure firin' guns off is good fun. But, relaxation is very possible.
I drove to Tucumcari the next day to have lunch with my dad. He's working there now, doing economic development. He made sure to scold me for being vulgur on my blog. What a good dad. :) However, my poor dad is stuck living in a motel room because, needless to say, there's not of real estate options in Tucumcari. Oddly enough, my great grandfather was ordained an elder in Tucumcari in 1917. You're never far from home.
After getting into Albuquerque, I went straight to bartending, which could probably explain my exhaustion. I'm looking forward to some hardcore relaxing while I'm in the Burk, as well as making some cash. If anyone has any opportunities for money, lemme know. I'll mow your damn lawn, slave away in a fireworks stand, whatever. I don't really care.
I missed you, desert heat. Thanks for getting me with such a warm reception. Jesus Christ.
Oh, Matthew, how far we've come from dying our hair in motel bathrooms and taking way too much No Doze at 4am. Now, we're.... adults? Well, probably not quite. But still, I'm sure both of them are going to kick the crap out of parenting.
Well, true story, I'm in Albuquerque. Kinda didn't want to make a big deal about it, since I've only been gone a few weeks. But, I got offered a bartending gig and a couple other opportunities to make money presented themselves. So, here I be. Mass apologies to BN for not being in attendance last night. I've bee fighting off a cold all week and it seems that yesterday, after a full night of bartending, I was dead. I actually managed to fall asleep in the Golden West while there was a show going on. I was impressed with myself. I think the cold managed to drain itself into my brain and I was dizzy and discombobulated all day yesterday. Not exactly the state I needed to be in at the Launchpad. But, I did have every intention of showing up, and once again, I apologize I wasn't there. I was pretty sad about it.
I left Norman on Thursday. I was actually a little sad about it. I'm thinking of ways I might be able to make money there, spend a little bit more time there, etc. We shall see. I stayed Thursday night in Pampa emmereffing Texas, where my dad lives/used to work. No one was at his house, we was in Tucumcari, his wife was on a religious retreat, and her kids in Washington. So, I got the nice, little house all to myself, something very welcoming. The thing about traveling is that I'm with someone almost 24/7. For the most part, I'm a solitary primate, I like my space. So, just being able to lay around on the couch and watch all the cable TV I could fit into my brain, was great.
I told my dad, "Pampa Texas isn't the middle of no where, but you can see it from there." My dad's family has lots of roots in the Texas panhandle and my dad took the Chamber of Commerce job there for a few years. I spent some Christmas's there, with my uncle and extended family. Also, when I went overseas when I was 16, the tour group I went with was based out of Pampa. It's pretty typical small town America; local sports are god, everyone hangs out at the Sonic, and I'm pretty sure firin' guns off is good fun. But, relaxation is very possible.
I drove to Tucumcari the next day to have lunch with my dad. He's working there now, doing economic development. He made sure to scold me for being vulgur on my blog. What a good dad. :) However, my poor dad is stuck living in a motel room because, needless to say, there's not of real estate options in Tucumcari. Oddly enough, my great grandfather was ordained an elder in Tucumcari in 1917. You're never far from home.
After getting into Albuquerque, I went straight to bartending, which could probably explain my exhaustion. I'm looking forward to some hardcore relaxing while I'm in the Burk, as well as making some cash. If anyone has any opportunities for money, lemme know. I'll mow your damn lawn, slave away in a fireworks stand, whatever. I don't really care.
I missed you, desert heat. Thanks for getting me with such a warm reception. Jesus Christ.
6.21.2007
Pure magic.
And why?
Finally, finally, finally... I got to go here:
Yay!
Me and Matt got up early after bingo night and left Norman by 8:30, Arlington-bound. It was a pretty uneventful. Upon arriving in Texas, things just, you know, got a little more Texan. There can not be a giant American flag, unless there's a giant Texas one right next to it. We also drove past the Texas Motor Speedway, on Dale Earnhardt Way. That's nice. Six Flags is located on the road titled, "Road to Six Flags". I was amazed, Texas is just as creative as Kansas in naming. We also were on the "Tom Landry Memorial Highway" for a while. There was a picture of a fedora on the actual highway signage.
And don't you forget it.
Six Flags, in general, was alot of fun (BATMOBILE!). Matt and me must have hit the Six Flags day-to-go jackpot. The longest we had to wait to ride anything was maybe half an hour. Some rides, we just walked unto. Not only that, but they ahve re-admission, which allowed for us to go to Chipotle for lunch and allowed for me to go to CVS pharmacy, squirt a gob of sunblock into my hand, and walk out. Seriously, $10? Uh, not when I can do that. Matt laughed at me as I was slathering myself in my contraband sunblock in the parking lot. We drove by a store called Condom Sense, I thought it was great, and the site for the new Cowboys Stadium. The old Cowboys stadium cost $35 Million to build in 1971 and seats around 66,000 people. The new stadium will cost ONE BILLION DOLLARS and seat 100,000. You see? Nothing in Texas is ever big enough!
But, here's the best part of big Texas:
The Texas Giant!
Oh, I've got such a soft spot in my heart for wooden rollercoasters. They're fantastic. Sure, they hurt and you feel like death is certain about 90% of the time, but they're just so romantic. I've always been far more amazed with their construction, as opposed to metal coasters. I think they just more dramatic. "To construct this monster (the Texas Giant), contractors used 900,000 board feet of lumber, poured 1,220 concrete piers, hammered 10 tons of nails and screwed in 81,370 bolts. The estimated total cost to construct the Texas Giant was five and half million dollars." Amazing! Not only all that, but it was the most fun I had all day. I was laughing and smiling the whole time. Oh, I love you, rollercoasters. But, especially you, Texas Giant.
So, we were pretty much done with Six Flags by 6:30. And it just so happened that the Cubs, Matt's favorite baseball team, were playing the Texas Rangers that night. And Six Flags just happens to be right down the road from Texas Ballpark. So, we went to the game.
Keep in mind, this was my very first professional sporting event. As soon as we walk into the ballpark, Matt hears this little girl ask her father, "Daddy is this going to be the bestest day of my life?", which was just completely precious. You cannot argue that there is a magic about baseball, all the legends, the stories, the superstitions, especially with the Cubs. Some of it is lost, thanks to steriods, salaries, and big business. But, there's still something a little bit enchanting about baseball.
And what's baseball without beer?
And bearded friends!
Well, last night's game was kind of special. Sammy Sosa was trying to hit home run #600, a pretty big deal, dontcha know? I can only assume that's what the little girl was refering to, a little piece of baseball magic for everyone there to see. Well, he did it. You should have seen that place. People were going insane, there were so many flashes going off, everyone was cheering. I wasn't even in my seat.
We'd gone to the roof so Matt could smoke. I hear Sosa's name being called to bat and I walked to the nearest seating entrance, just as he swung at the second pitch. And there it went, freakout. As I was walking back, I see this janitor, holding his broom and his trash sweap, just smiling. I told Matt, I can guarantee that man loved the Texas Rangers more than anyone else in that whole stadium. He looked very, very happy. It was, in fact, a pretty awesome moment, regardless of steriod abuse, and everything else that plagues professional sports. There is something at the heart of it, sometimes you forget it, but there's a reason it got to be so popular and it had nothing to do with corporate deals or drugs. I know it's idealist, but what part of magic isn't?
I was amazed. I managed to spend 12 whole hours in Texas and loved almost every minute of it. We go Jack in the Box on the way back and I woke up sore and hoarse this morning. The price you pay for a great day.
6.19.2007
Men are mowing lawns.
It is HOT AS SHIT here. I can handle 95 degree weather. Seriously, don't even play. That's nothing. But, add freaking 80% humidity, and I'm ready for death. I walked over to the OU Art Museum, about a 20 minute walk from where I parked (illegally. I was almost hoping for an OU parking ticket. Good thing to show the parents!) and I think I lost about 5 pounds during that freaking walk.
Never in my damn life have I seen so many people mowing lawns as I've seen today. At least 20! People actually give a crap about yardwork here, I guess. It's like the northeast heights of Burk. But no xeroscaping. I'm sure if I tried to explain to Matt's dad (JIMMY) that we put rocks on our lawn in patterns, he'd just go, "What in the hell is that?"
Speaking of Matt's parents, they're pretty much the best people in the world. They make me feel so welcome every time I'm here, always offering thier food, their house. I've hit the free-places-to-stay jackpot when I'm here.
But, my favorite part of staying here is every night, Matt's mom puts out a bowl of cereal every night for Matt's dad to eat the next morning. I think it's probably the most precious thing on the face of the planet.
I keep having crazy suspension dreams, where it's more this preformance art piece. I'm in a gallery, with lots of fabric (thanks Kate!), but I'm hung in this weird rig that lets me change poses mid-air. Almot like aereal gymnastics. And always to "Firestarter" or "Stay By My Side Tonight" but the Jimmy Eat World. I wake up facing the complete different direction. Why, oh why, can't this happen?
Hey, if you're bored, and last night I was, I majorly revamped my pictures on the space. It's intense.
Six Flags tomorrow (Finally! Don't you dare flood, Texas!). Between that, going to bingo tonight, and Matt's sunroof, I'm a happy Gata.
Never in my damn life have I seen so many people mowing lawns as I've seen today. At least 20! People actually give a crap about yardwork here, I guess. It's like the northeast heights of Burk. But no xeroscaping. I'm sure if I tried to explain to Matt's dad (JIMMY) that we put rocks on our lawn in patterns, he'd just go, "What in the hell is that?"
Speaking of Matt's parents, they're pretty much the best people in the world. They make me feel so welcome every time I'm here, always offering thier food, their house. I've hit the free-places-to-stay jackpot when I'm here.
But, my favorite part of staying here is every night, Matt's mom puts out a bowl of cereal every night for Matt's dad to eat the next morning. I think it's probably the most precious thing on the face of the planet.
I keep having crazy suspension dreams, where it's more this preformance art piece. I'm in a gallery, with lots of fabric (thanks Kate!), but I'm hung in this weird rig that lets me change poses mid-air. Almot like aereal gymnastics. And always to "Firestarter" or "Stay By My Side Tonight" but the Jimmy Eat World. I wake up facing the complete different direction. Why, oh why, can't this happen?
Hey, if you're bored, and last night I was, I majorly revamped my pictures on the space. It's intense.
Why Oklahoma ain't so bad.
Oklahoma and New Mexico are pretty similiar. Why?
One. They both hate Texas. That's a biggie.
Two. They're both home to legendary space chimps.
Three. Whenever someone says, "I'm going to Oklahoma" or "I'm going to New Mexico", they both get the exact same reaction, "Why?"
Being raised in New Mexico makes you see things differently. There's a beauty in the desert, but rarely is it the kind of beauty you just see, it has to be taught. It's a gradual appreciation. I've said it before. Learning to love home, especially New Mexico, is something you're only able to achieve over time.
New Mexico is my home and it always will be. My mom has lived in New Mexico for 31 years, and still she refers to New Jersey as her home (Jersey is also a lot like NM, but that's another post and a lot of Bruce Springsteen). New Mexico will be the same for me, I can already tell you that.
Home is healing. There's a big part of me that can not wait to come home, see my pink sandias and eat some Frontier. But, a part of me is so ready to leave it. That's what this trip is all about, seeing other people's homes and figuring out what makes them so excellent.
I took an instant liking to Oklahoma. I remember my skirt sticking to my legs and my hair poofing up instantly. Southern hair has nothing to do with Aquanet, it's all about the humidity. It just feels different here. That's the thing you'll notice driving across Texas from NM to OK, every time you get out your car, it's just a bit more humid. That's how you know you're close.
That and the sky.
Brian, the old trumpet player from Third Grade Scuffle told me once that he's never seen a bigger sky than an Oklahoma sky. I looked up and knew he was completely right. Oklahoma is open space, rolling fields. It feels so continous.
Oklahoma's got a completely different kind of history. The other day, Matt took me out to his family's farm for band practice. When I asked him about it, where it came from, and how long his family had owned it, he said, "Well, there was kind of this land run in 1889..." Something about that, knowing I was standing on a piece of land someone ran for and it's still in the same family really interested me. And yeah, I know all about how messed up the whole thing to Native Americans, but that was part of it. I've never been awed by standing on a piece of history the way that farm did.
But, what all of this has been taught to me, you see? Oklahoma is another place you must learn to love. But, once you do, it's in there.
In that, I think you can argue that every place is like that. Location is almost irrelevant, says the girl who grew up in Raton New Mexico and bitched about it almost every day. But, as I tell people now, who ask me about growing up in a small town, "Well, you can set shit on fire anywhere."
Just as much can happen to me here as anywhere else.
There are two things born into Oklahomians: hating Texas, and loving OU football. Oh, football. It's my secret reason for loving Norman, just as it was my secret reason for loving Friday nights in Raton. Sure, it's dumb. Sure, there's drug use, assholes, and probably a complete waste of time. But, here's the fact of it, something in that stupidity makes people passionate. Middle-aged men who care about nothing actually care about OU football. Even more than that, that silly little football field is a unifier for an entire state. Truth be told, that's pretty impressive.
With OU football, there happens to be this fantastic, little university (Matt told me the other day that most people in Oklahoma don't even associate OU football with a college. It's just football.). The University is almost a mirror of UNM, with nearly the same student body population (except it's a whooping 82% cacausian here). The big difference: funding. That silly, little football team, with all their ticket sales and hoodie sales rakes in millions of dollars each year. All of which must be shared with the University. And let's say it's yielded some lovely results. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful campus.
You see, it is beautiful here. Sometimes, you have to search it out and sometimes it's right in front of you.
Oklahoma makes me happy. It's not something anyone else can understand, just like most people would ever understand while such a cruel city like Albuquerque could be my comfort zone. But, a person's relation to space is completely relative, no place is universally adored. I kinda like that, having my own secret havens.
This whole thing excludes western Kansas, of course. There is nothing good about that place.
That place can suck a space chimp.
One. They both hate Texas. That's a biggie.
Two. They're both home to legendary space chimps.
Three. Whenever someone says, "I'm going to Oklahoma" or "I'm going to New Mexico", they both get the exact same reaction, "Why?"
Being raised in New Mexico makes you see things differently. There's a beauty in the desert, but rarely is it the kind of beauty you just see, it has to be taught. It's a gradual appreciation. I've said it before. Learning to love home, especially New Mexico, is something you're only able to achieve over time.
New Mexico is my home and it always will be. My mom has lived in New Mexico for 31 years, and still she refers to New Jersey as her home (Jersey is also a lot like NM, but that's another post and a lot of Bruce Springsteen). New Mexico will be the same for me, I can already tell you that.
Home is healing. There's a big part of me that can not wait to come home, see my pink sandias and eat some Frontier. But, a part of me is so ready to leave it. That's what this trip is all about, seeing other people's homes and figuring out what makes them so excellent.
I took an instant liking to Oklahoma. I remember my skirt sticking to my legs and my hair poofing up instantly. Southern hair has nothing to do with Aquanet, it's all about the humidity. It just feels different here. That's the thing you'll notice driving across Texas from NM to OK, every time you get out your car, it's just a bit more humid. That's how you know you're close.
That and the sky.
Brian, the old trumpet player from Third Grade Scuffle told me once that he's never seen a bigger sky than an Oklahoma sky. I looked up and knew he was completely right. Oklahoma is open space, rolling fields. It feels so continous.
Oklahoma's got a completely different kind of history. The other day, Matt took me out to his family's farm for band practice. When I asked him about it, where it came from, and how long his family had owned it, he said, "Well, there was kind of this land run in 1889..." Something about that, knowing I was standing on a piece of land someone ran for and it's still in the same family really interested me. And yeah, I know all about how messed up the whole thing to Native Americans, but that was part of it. I've never been awed by standing on a piece of history the way that farm did.
But, what all of this has been taught to me, you see? Oklahoma is another place you must learn to love. But, once you do, it's in there.
In that, I think you can argue that every place is like that. Location is almost irrelevant, says the girl who grew up in Raton New Mexico and bitched about it almost every day. But, as I tell people now, who ask me about growing up in a small town, "Well, you can set shit on fire anywhere."
Just as much can happen to me here as anywhere else.
There are two things born into Oklahomians: hating Texas, and loving OU football. Oh, football. It's my secret reason for loving Norman, just as it was my secret reason for loving Friday nights in Raton. Sure, it's dumb. Sure, there's drug use, assholes, and probably a complete waste of time. But, here's the fact of it, something in that stupidity makes people passionate. Middle-aged men who care about nothing actually care about OU football. Even more than that, that silly little football field is a unifier for an entire state. Truth be told, that's pretty impressive.
With OU football, there happens to be this fantastic, little university (Matt told me the other day that most people in Oklahoma don't even associate OU football with a college. It's just football.). The University is almost a mirror of UNM, with nearly the same student body population (except it's a whooping 82% cacausian here). The big difference: funding. That silly, little football team, with all their ticket sales and hoodie sales rakes in millions of dollars each year. All of which must be shared with the University. And let's say it's yielded some lovely results. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful campus.
You see, it is beautiful here. Sometimes, you have to search it out and sometimes it's right in front of you.
Oklahoma makes me happy. It's not something anyone else can understand, just like most people would ever understand while such a cruel city like Albuquerque could be my comfort zone. But, a person's relation to space is completely relative, no place is universally adored. I kinda like that, having my own secret havens.
This whole thing excludes western Kansas, of course. There is nothing good about that place.
That place can suck a space chimp.
6.18.2007
Well, I was going to go to Six Flags today.
But, then it decided to rain in Texas.
They're saying that towns are getting an inch of rain every 15 minutes. I-35, the inerstate from Dallas to Oklahoma City is closed at the north border of Texas.
And where's the one city in North Texas that isn't flooded? Arlington. I'll give you a guess where Six Flags is.
Sad is Cat.
But, it's for the better. I can work on a few blags and nurse a grumpy throat back to health. I probably wouldn't have been able to scream anyway.
6.17.2007
Weekend update, featurng zombies, okra, and rain.
Man, I have had some days in Norman!
Thursday: it rained. It's been raining a lot here. But, I decided, since I'm from the desert, to go take a walk in it. I took some polariods of the self-proclaimed cathedral of football,
Oklahoma Memorial Stadium.
I walked around the staduim, then the campus, which has lots of really great gardens and fantastic old brick buildings. When people ask me why I want to come Oklahoma, my number one reason is this University. Overall, I just enjoyed a lovely walk in the rain, under my black umbrella (thanks Maria! hehe) while listening to the Postal Service, but of course.
That night, Third Grade Scuffle opened up for The Aggrolites, something I was fantastically excited for. I love the Aggrolites in general, I think they're one of the most fun ska bands evah, but I heard they were recording with some dude named Tim Armstrong, I loved em even more.
I had an awesome time, dancing and whatnot. The band was super nice, which is always good. However, the turnout wasn't what I would have hoped, given the rain, and in grand Oklahoma tradition, most of the crowd hung out outside and smoked for the night. I also got to see the Rx Bandits on Wednesday, so all in all, Oklahoma music has been nice to me. (Getchoo some Aggro!)
Friday: was spent mostly at David's house, preparing to watch Zombie movies. We selected such fine titles as I Drink Your Blood, Dead and Breakfast, and the infamous Cannibal Holocaust, which we didn't get around to watching because everyone just got too drunk. Well, everyone except me. Of course. No, no, no, I got to clean up Matt vomit at about 4:30 in the morning. And spend the next hour and a half begging him to get out of the bathroom. GOOD NIGHT.
Saturday: I slept in really late, thankfully. When I get up, I called Tyler and we went to Walmart so I could get silly putty. Then, we headed over to Kidspace, a very fun city park, for a few hours. His parents invited me for dinner, which was so insanely nice, and I had steak. Yum! We spent the evening mini-golfing.
This morning, I woke up to the smell of okra being deep fried. I'm a happy Cat right now. I feel a little like I'm invading other people's father's day activities, but no one seems to mind. And there is fried okra.
I'm working on posts of more substance, but they're all incomplete. Including my Why in the hell would I want to come to Oklahoma post and something about the bombing. But, right now, all I care about is fried okra.
Thursday: it rained. It's been raining a lot here. But, I decided, since I'm from the desert, to go take a walk in it. I took some polariods of the self-proclaimed cathedral of football,
Oklahoma Memorial Stadium.
I walked around the staduim, then the campus, which has lots of really great gardens and fantastic old brick buildings. When people ask me why I want to come Oklahoma, my number one reason is this University. Overall, I just enjoyed a lovely walk in the rain, under my black umbrella (thanks Maria! hehe) while listening to the Postal Service, but of course.
That night, Third Grade Scuffle opened up for The Aggrolites, something I was fantastically excited for. I love the Aggrolites in general, I think they're one of the most fun ska bands evah, but I heard they were recording with some dude named Tim Armstrong, I loved em even more.
I had an awesome time, dancing and whatnot. The band was super nice, which is always good. However, the turnout wasn't what I would have hoped, given the rain, and in grand Oklahoma tradition, most of the crowd hung out outside and smoked for the night. I also got to see the Rx Bandits on Wednesday, so all in all, Oklahoma music has been nice to me. (Getchoo some Aggro!)
Friday: was spent mostly at David's house, preparing to watch Zombie movies. We selected such fine titles as I Drink Your Blood, Dead and Breakfast, and the infamous Cannibal Holocaust, which we didn't get around to watching because everyone just got too drunk. Well, everyone except me. Of course. No, no, no, I got to clean up Matt vomit at about 4:30 in the morning. And spend the next hour and a half begging him to get out of the bathroom. GOOD NIGHT.
Saturday: I slept in really late, thankfully. When I get up, I called Tyler and we went to Walmart so I could get silly putty. Then, we headed over to Kidspace, a very fun city park, for a few hours. His parents invited me for dinner, which was so insanely nice, and I had steak. Yum! We spent the evening mini-golfing.
This morning, I woke up to the smell of okra being deep fried. I'm a happy Cat right now. I feel a little like I'm invading other people's father's day activities, but no one seems to mind. And there is fried okra.
I'm working on posts of more substance, but they're all incomplete. Including my Why in the hell would I want to come to Oklahoma post and something about the bombing. But, right now, all I care about is fried okra.
6.14.2007
Beating up the National Guard for pants.
Stereotypes came true last night.
But, first off, let’s talk about Fat Sandwich Company. I guess it’s new to Norman and my first experience with it was also Matt’s. Lemme tell you what they consider a sandwich. Hamburger. Cheese sticks. Chicken Strips. Bacon. Mac and Chesse bites. Cheese whiz. Anything. You name it, they will put it on a sandwich. The one I really remember was the Fat Bleu, which was chicken strips, ham, cheese sticks, and honey mustard. I believe the only Matt got combined all of the ingredients I listed above. Plus an egg.
Also, it matters not what sandwich you order. All sandwiches have fries inside of them. It made me long for disaster burrito.
Also, the staff is exactly what you would think. Stoners. Who take forever to write down an order. Hey, this is COMPLICATED duuuude.
I played it safe and went with the breakfast sandwich. But, seriously, looking at the menu terrified everyone in our late night dinner posse. It was a heart attack.
Here’s my cute, little breakfast sandwich: sausage, egg, cheese and hashbrowns.
And here’s Matts. At many angles.
He finished it! His prize: near-vomit.
The thing about this place is it’s on “college corner.” So, basically, it’s surrounded by lots of trendy college bars. You can imagine their typical crowd, around the time the bars close. It’s easy, just think Frontier without the security and a little more Arian.
I went to Fat Sandwich Company with Matt and his friends Chelsey and Suzanne. We notice this complete bro walk in, shaved head, about 6 foot 5, wearing this shirt that has a gift tag on it that says “To: Women, From: God”, cut off jean shorts that were a little too tight, and some fantastic Air Jordans, circa 1992. So, let’s just say this man has no business commenting on fashion.
This woman walks in, looking a little tired, wearing camo pants. She walked up to God’s Gift to Women’s table at random and asks, very politely, not an ounce of cruelty or meanness to it, “Excuse, do you know what time it is.
As loudly as he can, God’s Gift to Women answers, “Time for you to get some new fucking pants!”
The woman handles it well. “Oh really, why? You don’t like camoflague? These are authentic army pants.”
“No, I like it. I have a pair of camo shorts. They’re the real thing too. I beat the fuck outta some pussy in the national guard for them!”
I start laughing my ass off. Mostly because I seriously cannot believe that’s even really happening. But, no this guy was serious.
“You beat up someone in the National Guard?”
“Fuck yes, I did. YEAH!”
“Why?”
“Because he was a fucking pussy and I could!”
“I’d like to see you try to beat up the man who these belonged to.”
“Bring him in here! I’ll go right now! I’ll fucking take anyone!”
He continues talking about how he beat the fuck outta this pussy and he’ll kill anyone, blah, blah, blah. The poor lady holds her ground, but just gets so frustrated at this tard, that she just walks out, without ever finding out the time. God’s Gift to Women thinks it’s amazing, high five-ing his fellow bros.
Really. I’m not kidding. I didn’t make a piece of that up. I had NO idea that people like that even existed. I am stunned. I don’t care how drunk he was, once I was done with my shock-laughter, I wanted to curb stomp him. I would have Xena-charged him, in honor of Maria (who I'm sure could have completely demolished him).
Ladies and gentleman, the worst of Oklahoma. Why would I ever consider living here? Well, that comes later.
But, first off, let’s talk about Fat Sandwich Company. I guess it’s new to Norman and my first experience with it was also Matt’s. Lemme tell you what they consider a sandwich. Hamburger. Cheese sticks. Chicken Strips. Bacon. Mac and Chesse bites. Cheese whiz. Anything. You name it, they will put it on a sandwich. The one I really remember was the Fat Bleu, which was chicken strips, ham, cheese sticks, and honey mustard. I believe the only Matt got combined all of the ingredients I listed above. Plus an egg.
Also, it matters not what sandwich you order. All sandwiches have fries inside of them. It made me long for disaster burrito.
Also, the staff is exactly what you would think. Stoners. Who take forever to write down an order. Hey, this is COMPLICATED duuuude.
I played it safe and went with the breakfast sandwich. But, seriously, looking at the menu terrified everyone in our late night dinner posse. It was a heart attack.
Here’s my cute, little breakfast sandwich: sausage, egg, cheese and hashbrowns.
And here’s Matts. At many angles.
He finished it! His prize: near-vomit.
The thing about this place is it’s on “college corner.” So, basically, it’s surrounded by lots of trendy college bars. You can imagine their typical crowd, around the time the bars close. It’s easy, just think Frontier without the security and a little more Arian.
I went to Fat Sandwich Company with Matt and his friends Chelsey and Suzanne. We notice this complete bro walk in, shaved head, about 6 foot 5, wearing this shirt that has a gift tag on it that says “To: Women, From: God”, cut off jean shorts that were a little too tight, and some fantastic Air Jordans, circa 1992. So, let’s just say this man has no business commenting on fashion.
This woman walks in, looking a little tired, wearing camo pants. She walked up to God’s Gift to Women’s table at random and asks, very politely, not an ounce of cruelty or meanness to it, “Excuse, do you know what time it is.
As loudly as he can, God’s Gift to Women answers, “Time for you to get some new fucking pants!”
The woman handles it well. “Oh really, why? You don’t like camoflague? These are authentic army pants.”
“No, I like it. I have a pair of camo shorts. They’re the real thing too. I beat the fuck outta some pussy in the national guard for them!”
I start laughing my ass off. Mostly because I seriously cannot believe that’s even really happening. But, no this guy was serious.
“You beat up someone in the National Guard?”
“Fuck yes, I did. YEAH!”
“Why?”
“Because he was a fucking pussy and I could!”
“I’d like to see you try to beat up the man who these belonged to.”
“Bring him in here! I’ll go right now! I’ll fucking take anyone!”
He continues talking about how he beat the fuck outta this pussy and he’ll kill anyone, blah, blah, blah. The poor lady holds her ground, but just gets so frustrated at this tard, that she just walks out, without ever finding out the time. God’s Gift to Women thinks it’s amazing, high five-ing his fellow bros.
Really. I’m not kidding. I didn’t make a piece of that up. I had NO idea that people like that even existed. I am stunned. I don’t care how drunk he was, once I was done with my shock-laughter, I wanted to curb stomp him. I would have Xena-charged him, in honor of Maria (who I'm sure could have completely demolished him).
Ladies and gentleman, the worst of Oklahoma. Why would I ever consider living here? Well, that comes later.
6.13.2007
OU Football?
Who: Cat and Mattlahoma.
What: A beef and cheese quesadilla from Taco Bell.
When: 3:30 am, after one too many Miller High Lifes.
Where: Driving down Lindsay St. in Norman Oklahoma.
Why: Happiness.
What: A beef and cheese quesadilla from Taco Bell.
When: 3:30 am, after one too many Miller High Lifes.
Where: Driving down Lindsay St. in Norman Oklahoma.
Why: Happiness.
6.11.2007
Bread.
I would like to begin by thanking The Lawrence Arms and the Aquabats. Without your fine music, I would not have made it across Kansas.
I was almost excited about that drive, as it was the first of my trip that I hadn't made before. In a way, I feel like this mini trip is almost a cop out, no real adventure. I've been to these places, I know these people. I don't feel that bold, that isolated, or that far away from home. So, driving through Kansas to Norman Oklahoma was appealing. (I took I-70 all the way to Salina Kansas, took a VERY EXCITING turn onto I-135, which turns into I-35 and took that all the way to Norman. In case you're curious.)
But, DAMN THAT STATE. It's almost romantic, all the wheat fields and silos and open space. But, that lasts for about an hour (if you're lucky) and then it's just painful. I mean, NOTHING. It'll make you crazy (I made some mpegs along the way of car-dancing. Those were promptly deleted.)
I had some great banter with the gas station clerk in Hays Kansas who asked me my new favorite variation: "Doesn't that hurt?"
"Nope. Not right now." He rolled his eyes and double-counted my bills. As I'm walking out the door, he says "You don't have to be so rude."
OR DO I?
But, I would like to congradulate Hays for having a mall named "The Mall" right next to a car lot named "The Car Lot". Impressive.
However, the most exciting part of my day was the random cow I saw hanging out in a pond. Yes, that's correct. EXCITING. It was hot, I don't blame him.
So, here I am in Norman Oklahoma. I'll pull the official mile count off my truck tomorrow, but I broke 1,000 today. It was an 11 hour drive.
The thing that always shocks me about Oklahoma is that it doesn't get cold when the sun sets. It's almost midnight and the temperature has dropped maybe 10 degrees since 2:00 pm. I guess I just expect that when the sun sets and the heat source goes away, things get colder. Nope. Illogical. I'm sure there's a fantastic environmental explanation as to why, but I like to think it's because people barbeque so much here.
Speaking of, I was SHOCKED to pass a billboard for Rudy's on my way into town. They must be expanding!
My last day in Denver was fun. Sarah and I tried an experiment to see if we could spend a fun-filled day in Denver without spending money. We almost suceeded, minus the $1.85 for a giant Coke from Subway. I don't think that counts. Me and Sarah spent most of the day downtown, admiring the big ol court houses and parks, as well as some nicely over-the-top public art.
Also, supremely classy of you Denver, here's little children swimming in a fountain.
Also, since Raton is the smallest town in the world, Sarah and me ran into two kids I went to high school with on the 16th Street Mall. Since I told them I was going to blog about it and they laughed, there that is.
I was almost excited about that drive, as it was the first of my trip that I hadn't made before. In a way, I feel like this mini trip is almost a cop out, no real adventure. I've been to these places, I know these people. I don't feel that bold, that isolated, or that far away from home. So, driving through Kansas to Norman Oklahoma was appealing. (I took I-70 all the way to Salina Kansas, took a VERY EXCITING turn onto I-135, which turns into I-35 and took that all the way to Norman. In case you're curious.)
But, DAMN THAT STATE. It's almost romantic, all the wheat fields and silos and open space. But, that lasts for about an hour (if you're lucky) and then it's just painful. I mean, NOTHING. It'll make you crazy (I made some mpegs along the way of car-dancing. Those were promptly deleted.)
I had some great banter with the gas station clerk in Hays Kansas who asked me my new favorite variation: "Doesn't that hurt?"
"Nope. Not right now." He rolled his eyes and double-counted my bills. As I'm walking out the door, he says "You don't have to be so rude."
OR DO I?
But, I would like to congradulate Hays for having a mall named "The Mall" right next to a car lot named "The Car Lot". Impressive.
However, the most exciting part of my day was the random cow I saw hanging out in a pond. Yes, that's correct. EXCITING. It was hot, I don't blame him.
So, here I am in Norman Oklahoma. I'll pull the official mile count off my truck tomorrow, but I broke 1,000 today. It was an 11 hour drive.
The thing that always shocks me about Oklahoma is that it doesn't get cold when the sun sets. It's almost midnight and the temperature has dropped maybe 10 degrees since 2:00 pm. I guess I just expect that when the sun sets and the heat source goes away, things get colder. Nope. Illogical. I'm sure there's a fantastic environmental explanation as to why, but I like to think it's because people barbeque so much here.
Speaking of, I was SHOCKED to pass a billboard for Rudy's on my way into town. They must be expanding!
My last day in Denver was fun. Sarah and I tried an experiment to see if we could spend a fun-filled day in Denver without spending money. We almost suceeded, minus the $1.85 for a giant Coke from Subway. I don't think that counts. Me and Sarah spent most of the day downtown, admiring the big ol court houses and parks, as well as some nicely over-the-top public art.
Also, supremely classy of you Denver, here's little children swimming in a fountain.
Also, since Raton is the smallest town in the world, Sarah and me ran into two kids I went to high school with on the 16th Street Mall. Since I told them I was going to blog about it and they laughed, there that is.
6.10.2007
WHY IS MICHAEL BUBLE PLAYING AT EVERY STARBUCKS IN THE WORLD?!?!
Sup dude.
(Photo post to follow)
Yesterday was a busy outdoor day. Sarah and I got an early start, leaving the house around 11:30. First stop was City Park, a 330+ acre park right in the middle of Denver. They advertised having paddle boats, something me and Sarah were pretty excited about. However, upon arriving at the park, a huge chunk of it was under construction, including the paddle boat pond!
However, we got a very unexpected surprise, in the form of geese.
First, there were a few, here and there. They seemed to have no hesitation about people. And then, someone broke out the bread.
HOLY SHIT. At least 200 geese came from all over. It was a little scary, I’m sure they could have tackled some poor, harmless child at any point.
Geese effing everywhere.
And a majestic fountain.
After the City Park, we went to the Botanic Gardens, probably the bargain of the city; only $5 for students in the summer ($4 in the winter). 23 acres, all covered in plants. If it would stand still, it had something growing by it. Also, it’s open til 8 on weekends in the summers.
The best part about it were these fantastic ponds, in what they called the “Monet Garden”. They really should have called the whole thing the Denver Monet Gardens, because there were ponds all over, all still, making fantastic reflections.
Also impressive was their Japanese garden. It was so tranquil. There was even a tea house which we really wanted to go into, but there was a tea ceremony in progress, dang it.
YOU WISH YOU WERE HERE.
Kissey face. I wish it was in focus. Damn camera…
But, all in all, blind photography is getting kind of interesting.
Also, Sarah and me were pretty excited about this giant ant.
YES.
We spent at least an hour just hanging out on the grass, watching one of the many weddings in progress at the park. Good day.
I’ve started a “Five Things You Might Want To Do When You’re In: …” thing, for all the cities I’ve been to. Not sure if I like it yet. I still feel very much like a tourist. I think those lists are for those who really know the city. When does tourist become resident. I wonder. I’ve been trying to avoid tourist-things, like the Denver Mint or the Coors Brewery Tour (if it was any other brewery besides Coors…) and trying to find more local activities, like the park. However, I think experiencing local Denver requires a Broncos game. Maybe in the fall.
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