would you still remember me?

Can't write much at the moment; I'm too busy doing Kentucky-ish things. Here, enjoy this pictorial essay on my trip:



I left.




In High Falls, Georgia, I stopped for gas at this store, which contained many (like thirty, I kid you not) specimens of taxidermied wildlife, including bobcats and squirrels in a glass case hanging over the ice cream cooler. It inspired me to buy. . .




. . . this beer, for the road.






Finally made it to Jasper, Georgia, where I am pretty sure I ratcheted up the fun at my buddy's 30th birthday par-tay to a whole new level.




Didn't feel so good the next morning, but thanks to CW's Breakfast of the Century and this view (from the top of Whitey's driveway, how lucky is he?), was infused with enough hope and fortitude to make the remaining six-hour drive to western Kentucky.





Apparently it actually does exist.





The area outside Chattanooga, Tennessee, is breathtakingly beautiful.





Nashville. Batman building. See it?





The folks of central Tennessee sure do know how to make some whiskey, but the pizza is a whole different story.





Entering Kentucky.




Crossing Kentucky Lake into Land Between the Lakes.





The two main crops in Kentucky are corn. . .





. . . and soy.





Almost home. Blue KY sky, just outside Murray.


=:=


That was the journey, in a nutshell. Next time, photos of my new home.

we'll eat a lot of broccoli, and drink a lot of beer

Well, it's my last day in Florida for a while, and it's also my thirty-first birthday. I guess it should be no surprise that today feels weird -- dense and chunky, and at the same time, it feels like it is going way too fast for me to grab onto.

I've never been a big birthday person -- I'm not a performer, I don't like to be the center of attention, and I generally think holidays of any sort are way more aggravation than they're worth. BUT. I think everybody needs to be shown that they're important in someone's life, and I think birthdays are when people sort of hope for that kind of reassurance the most. Secretly, way deep down, I tend to think of my birthday as the barometer by which I judge just how loved I am. And that's really stupid, considering that out of my five closest friends, only two of them even know when my birthday is, and vice versa. What's even more fucked up is that I'm terrible when it comes to remembering birthdays and buying cards and gifts and all that jazz. I can never understand why everybody isn't as excited as I am to receive books at every gift-giving holiday (what is wrong with you people?). The MOST fucked up thing about my birthday is that I always end up receiving a lot more love and attention than I ever expect, and then I feel like an idiot for those five minutes in the morning I spent feeling halfway sorry for myself. What am I, an egocentric third-grader? Why yes, yes I am.

How do you guys feel on your birthdays?

i get it from. . . yeah.

Mom and I were just discussing what to have for breakfast (I'm cooking) and I whined that I really, REALLY wanted pancakes. Now, Mom is on the Atkins diet and can't have pancakes, which means that today I don't get any, either. Mom's response to my tantalizing description of the hot, fluffy, buttery pancakes I'd make if I were in my own kitchen? "Shut UP! You have to wait until you move to bumfuck!"

This immediately following a discussion on the pros and cons of various birth control methods and why nobody, ever, should have kids. Don't forget I am having this conversation with my Mother, who it seems only very reluctantly agreed to birth me after much pleading from my Father, who, by the way, is no longer around to suffer the misery of parenthood. Mom: "Oh, you guys are great now that you've grown up and GONE AWAY. It's the first thirty years that really suck."

Sometimes I feel so loved it makes my shriveled black heart recoil in horror.

my heart it draws the line

In just a few days, I will be moving to Murray, Kentucky.

I know what you're thinking, and you're partially right (yes, I'm chasin' tail -- but it's more than that). I would never have decided to go to a small town in western Kentucky if I hadn't met The Man, but I definitely wouldn't be going if it weren't a good opportunity for me personally.

A few facts about Murray, Kentucky: The population is over 89% white (just to give you an idea, Fort Pierce = 49.5% white, 41% black, 15% hispanic). There is no shopping mall, but there are a couple of strip malls and a Wal-Mart. There's also a Huddle House, which is my new favorite restaurant thanks to the matronly waitress who calls me "honey" and the ragtag group of regulars (Hungry Bear, get in line). There are only four "bars," which are also restaurants -- they're required to earn a certain percentage of revenue from food sales -- and only stay open til midnight. It was a dry county until five or six years ago, so one still has to go to the next town to buy beer or liquor to take home (this could be good for me). The annual Kentucky Lumberjack Challenge is held in Murray, and of course I can't wait to compete. Murray is west of the mountains, but it's still slightly hilly; the weather is temperate with four distinct seasons. It was beautiful when I was there last week; 80 degrees and sunny during the day, 68-70 at night. The air feels good, it's soft and soothing and comfy. Nearby is a big national park called Land Between the Lakes, which really is situated between two huge lakes and is incredible - there are bison and elk and deer, and the lakes are breathtaking. One has to drive right through the middle of LBL to get to Murray from the east.

Murray State University is neither big nor small; enrollment is near 11,000. They're actually highly ranked in several areas (arts and athletics are big ones) and call themselves one of the "Public Ivy" institutions because of their high academic standards. I'll be living just a couple short blocks from the campus, which is great because the whole area is very bike- and pedestrian-friendly. My short-term plan is to take a job at one of the restaurants right away and then keep my eyes peeled for a position at the University; employees get to take six classes a year for free so that would be a big help if I could pull it off. I'm planning to obtain a bachelor's degree in journalism with a minor in anthropology or advertising. Right now I'm working on a few writing projects on my own, and am collaborating on a writing gig and a comedy skit/short with friends of mine. I finally feel a certain clarity and confidence about what I want to do with myself professionally and creatively, and that's such a huge relief.

Now that I've made the decision to go, I can't wait to get to Kentucky and get on with my life. I feel like this situation I'm walking into is positive and healthy and will be good for me in a lot of ways. Strangely, it doesn't feel impulsive, it just feels right. I'm thrilled and can't wait to begin. Let's get it on, hash brown.

Stay tuned.

no one answers their goddamn phones anymore.

If you haven't been through this, then you've evidently been living in a stone hut out on the moors, or else you're married, which - from what I can see - is basically the same thing.

funny girl

Amid all the backlash from that ridiculous McCain television spot (you know what I'm talking about), some wise publicist decided that it would be a good idea for Paris Hilton to make her own [mock] ad in response. "But then that wrinkly white-haired guy used me in his campaign ad, which I guess means I'm running for president."

In a weird ironic twist, Paris managed to make fun of herself, McCain and the entire campaign process, and guess who came out looking better than ever?

"I'll see you at the debates, bitches."

Here's the original article from Gawker.com, along with the hilarious video:

what t.v. used to be

Oh, hello!

Thought I'd let you folks know I just planned a trip to New York (maybe Boston too, but we'll see about that later) -- for the last two weeks in August. I will be in NYC alone from Tuesday the 19th to either Thursday or Friday (which happens to be my birthday), then out to Fire Island with Mom for the weekend, and after that we'll be back in the City for a few days -- or a week, depending on whether we are too hung-over to drive up to Boston and visit with creaky old relatives.

I will be contacting you (you know who you are) individually, but anybody who wants to take proactive measures like calling to set up an appointed drinking/eating/etc. time is welcome to do so. All in all, I'll be around for a couple weeks, but Mom will be joining me after the first few days, so the key here is to catch me early, as that's when the real fun will be happening. If you thought I was a hoot before, wait till you see me try to cram six months' worth of fun (and falafel) into two days.

Update: dates may be changing. I'll keep you posted.