tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20519477124132297162024-03-13T02:25:21.413-04:00Welcome to Wild, Wonderful West VirginiaIn May 2011, I moved to West Virginia. These are my adventures.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-20885945671207019822012-03-02T12:06:00.002-05:002012-03-02T18:11:45.033-05:00Franco part 2, Revenge of the Awkward Ticket GirlSo after shooting the carnival scene, there were fireworks. Not just for the hell of it, but as a part of the carnival scene. And again we had to shoot that 3 or four times. So we had to stand around all awkwardly "ooh"ing and "aah"ing at all the pretty colors. Then was the firework finale that lasted entirely too long, but in all honesty, can you have too many fireworks. Hint: the answer is no. After the magical fireworks, they announced that it was a wrap. All extras were free to go. We should go back to the base, get changed, eat some food, and get on our ways. At this point, it was closing in on midnight, and after having stood in the near freezing cold since dark, I was thinking maybe I should go home. Or at least to the pub. Then they made a second announcement. There would be one more scene of the carnival and extras that were willing to stay were welcome to. Well what's a girl to do? Put on warm clothes, go to the pub and have a nice cold brew, and then go home to bed at a reasonable hour? Oh pish posh. Imma stay and film the next scene in the freezing cold until 2 AM and then go to a party afterwards and hang out til 5. duh. <br />
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I hadn't completely decided on staying when the local casting guy walked by with a clip board toting intern. He pointed at me, said "her," and conferred with the kid. Did Franco call for another awkward encounter with the ticket girl? Were they mad that I stashed a couple of oranges in my purse? Were they hand picking me to be in the next scene? Ding ding ding! Correct! They asked if I was willing to stay for the next scene and I answered with a polite and composed "Hell yeah!" (Honestly, you can't take me anywhere.) So as people were slowing finishing their meals and changing back into their everyday clothes, I sat there reading a book, waiting to be called to go back down to the set. Franco had chosen to eat at the table behind me and everyone was going up to him to get pictures and autographs. One lady was so desperate for an autograph that she handed him a paper plate to sign. Oh mountain people, you never cease to amaze me in all the ways that you don't understand how to interact with society. For awhile, I contemplated the idea of going up to Franco and introducing myself, so that he could put a real name with the face of the ticket girl. But I didn't want to be that kinda of girl. I mean, I've met celebrities before. Jimmy Carter....that guy from Bizarre Foods....the singer from some Athens band.... Okay, I didn't <i>actually</i> meet the guys from Bizarre Foods, but I sold him a tshirt. Good enough. With Franco, I knew I was just gonna stammer and say something stupid, and as much as I wanted a picture with him, I decided to play it cool. I'd talk to him after the scene.<br />
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After about an hour to waiting around, they finally called us back to the set. This scene was of the main character at a shooting gallery at the carnival, showing off how good he is at shooting things. They needed background actors to hang out and make it look like people actually went to rural hicktown carnivals. As we're setting up the shot, I catch Franco <i>again</i> staring at me. Well I told myself, I wasn't going to act like an idiot this time! As I'm standing there shivering in my thin dress and tiny cardigan, with Franco in a beanie and warm jacket looking like he's "cold," I ask him all nonchalantly "Ya cold?" He pauses, "Yep." For some reason, I have this idea in my head that I'm funny. I think that I can make people laugh or at least smile sometimes. And for some reason, this notion popped into my head right at this moment. So I responded by saying "At least you're not in a dress." Crickets. Now it may have been my imagination but I believe a hush fell over the production crew and all of their heads slowly turned to face me. I swear even one guy was shaking his head and looking down at his feet as if I had just insulted the pope. Franco just stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time before turning around and doing whatever a director does. I'm not sure if what I said was offensive to him in some way. I later googled his stint as Oscar host last year and found out he had worn a dress at one point:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He does not make a pretty lady. Thankfully, he makes up for that by being extremely handsome. </td></tr>
</tbody></table> But I sure as hell knew that what I said was not in any way funny. We shot the scene a couple more times and then they asked all the background people to go. They had to film some close ups of the main character shooting, so there was no need for extras anymore. That was it. I could go home. No meeting Franco. No trying to make up for two really weird encounters. No introducing myself, or shaking his hand, or getting a picture. Nothing. It was 2am. 35 degrees. They let me keep the balloons that I carried in the scene. But I didn't get to keep my dignity. Instead Franco will probably never remember me, and if he does, I'll be that weird ticket girl that had a mild stroke when he tried to talk to me and that offended him with a comment about a dress.<br />
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Whatever. First impressions are overrated anyways.<br />
For some behind the scenes pictures and videos of the movie, <a href="http://www.jamesfrancotv.com/photos/138912">check this out.</a> It's Franco's website and he takes all these "artsy" photos and whatnot. After sifting through some of the silly hipster crap he does, there's actually some cool things on there. Enjoy!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-2443457077559319442012-02-22T09:23:00.004-05:002012-03-02T12:44:49.678-05:00the Franco sightingFRAAAANCOOOO <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m in his movie. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">That’s right folks. I’m a movie star now. I’ll be sending out my head shot and autograph as my next Christmas card, you know, because I’m so famous now. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">But seriously, right after I wrote my last post about not being in the movie, I got an email from the casting director. They wanted to know if I would be available Saturday night to film the carnival scene. I had made plans to go to Helvetia, West Virginia for the Fasnacht festival, but when I heard that Franco needed me, I immediately canceled my plans. Fasnacht happens every year. Franco is a once in a lifetime experience. The email gave me all the info I needed: call time, location, wardrobe, security measures (direct quote: “if star-struck teenage girls mount the fences around the fairgrounds and sneak there way into a ‘hot set,’ the production will get nothing done.”) My call time was 4 PM, and filming wouldn’t start until after dark. As it turns out, a couple of my friends were also invited to be extras, including two guys to be included in the bluegrass band to play during the carnival. The assistant director took us out to the set so we could be placed. Everyone got a spot, either working a booth, wandering around the carnival, or dancing in front of the band. Well, everyone got places, except for me. Isn’t that the way it always is? So I told the assistant director that I was the last to be placed and she told me that she would worry about me later, when we were ready to start filming. There was no way in hell that I was gonna let her forget about me. But I let it slide until after we got into wardrobe. Which took a good 2, 3 hours. In the email, the requested that if we had any clothing that might look like the 1950s that we should bring it. When I got to wardrobe, I showed them what I had and they loved two of my dresses. One of them, a dress that I had worn to graduation, needed a slip, so that was out. But the other one, one that had purchased for a grand total of 25 cents, was perfect.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please ignore my uncomfortably wide child bearing hips.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Heading down to the set, I knew I wasn’t going to let the assistant director forget that I didn’t have a place yet. I was also craning my neck to find Franco. The four hours I had been there, there had been no sight of him. Everyone went to their places and finally the assistant director puts me at the beginning of the fair scene – I’m selling tickets. I meet the couple that I will be selling tickets to and we laugh about excited and nervous we are about the whole thing. And then ACTION! I sell my tickets and wait for the next group to arrive. Then I realize where the film crew is coming from. They’re gonna walk right past me. I’m the first carnival person the main character sees. I look at him and smile; he does the same. He’s followed by a cameraman, boom guy, Franco, the assistant director, and like 4 other people. FRANCO. Oh man. He looks exactly like he does in movies except a bit grungier, as if he hadn’t showered in a few days, aka he looks perfect. When they cut, the crew stands around for a bit trying to figure out where to shoot next. I’m just hanging out at my little ticket counter when I turn around and there’s Franco, 25 feet away, looking at me. He says “what’s up. selling tickets?” In my head, I’m thinking “HOOOOOLLLLLY CRAPPPP I might pee myself!!!!” What I said was something like “Yeah, I’m trying to. I’m doing great at it. This is fun. Mumble mumble mumble. Don’t mind me because I’m an idiot.” Have a cute guy talk to me? I usually say something dumb. Have a cute celebrity talk to me? I’ll say something really dumb. Have <i>James freaking Franco</i> talk to me? Apparently I become a mega doofus. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We shoot the scene again and this time when I see the main character, I say “Hi how are you?” He again responds with a smile. We shoot the scene yet again and I say “Hi how are you?” He says “Good how are you” and I say “good how are you?” Cue face palm. Like I said, I’ll say something really dumb. Every shot after that, the main character walked past me so that I wouldn’t talk to him. I expected that. We shot the carnival scene for a good two hours. The same thing over and over again, just shot at different angles. It was really interesting seeing the filming process, because you never really think about those things when you’re watching a movie.<br />
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I'll leave this as a cliffhanger for now, as there is much much more to the story. Tune in soon for part 2 of Franco.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-16564156888831960232012-02-16T11:55:00.000-05:002012-02-16T11:55:15.399-05:00I could join the circus...oh and James Franco<div class="MsoNormal">Most of my experiences in West Virginia have been about immersing myself into the Appalachian culture.<span> </span>Recently, I’ve been trying something different. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lewisburg is the big town of the area.<span> </span>People literally say they’re “going to town” when they talk about traveling to Lewisburg.<span> </span>It also helps that it is a huge cultural mecca for art of all kinds.<span> </span>There are countless art galleries, Carnegie Hall, handmade jewelry shops, you name it.<span> </span>The culture that is highlighted in Lewisburg isn’t quite the Appalachian culture, but rather that of an urban setting.<span> </span>It’s hard to describe to people who haven’t been here.<span> </span>Anyways, like I said I wanted to try some new things.<span> </span>There’s a yoga studio downtown and I know people who taken classes there.<span> </span>Let me just start by saying I am not a yoga fan.<span> </span>I’ve tried it before and I just couldn’t handle it.<span> </span>Focus on my breathing?<span> </span>Mind, body, soul merged together?<span> </span>Sounds stupid.<span> </span>I just want some kind of exercise that will make me feel good by the end of it.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">EmNewt, the Emily that took my rock climbing, suggested I come to a yoga class with her.<span> </span>My rock climbing experience with her was nothing short of magical.<span> </span>It was something I never thought I would do, let alone really like.<span> </span>I was forced to trust her with my life, and it’s really changed the dynamic of our friendship.<span> </span>So when she said I should go to this class with her, I had to trust her and just go.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It happened to be an acrobatic yoga class.<span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Did I mention that EmNewt went to clown school instead of college?<span> </span>No joke.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>If you’re like 99.7% of the world and you don’t know what acroyoga is, let me explain before you watch the video.<span> </span>Partner yoga + trapeze artists + a bit of ballet = what the hell does that even mean.<span> </span>Let me show you:<br />
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Prepare to have you mind <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zzJs-SUiHw">blown.</a><br />
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Next mind blowing subject:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://collider.com/wp-content/uploads/James-Franco-image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://collider.com/wp-content/uploads/James-Franco-image.jpg" width="218" /></a></div><br />
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Everybody knows who James Franco is. He's in like every movie and every tv show ever. He's an actor/director/student/performing arts loving hipster dude. You know how most actors <i>start</i> in soap operas? He's in one right now and he's at the top of his career. This dude does whatever he wants. Including filming a movie in Lewisburg West Virginia. But not just any movie. One that focuses on necrophilia and pedophilia. It's called <a href="http://blogs.indiewire.com/theplaylist/james-francos-child-of-god-will-hit-film-festivals-this-year-aiming-for-2013-release">Child of God</a> and it's based on a Cormac McCarthy novel. For those of you unfamiliar with that author, he wrote other books that have turned into movies: The Road and No Country for Old Men. <br />
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So Franco's in town. They need extras for the movie. I email them a bunch over the course of the last month. Nothing. No response. No Franco sightings. I would love to spot the elusive Franco in his natural habitat. But alas, it's not to be. Apparently he doesn't drink, smoke, or leave his room ever. He sits around reading all the time. Don't get me wrong, I love a good book. But I also love a good beer and being an active member of society. <br />
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So I didn't get to meet Franco. I didn't even get to see him. I think the film crew is only in town for another week or so and then it'll all be over. It'll all be over and still the only celebrity I've ever met is Jimmy Carter. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-58982918769265835212012-01-05T10:54:00.000-05:002012-01-05T10:54:49.758-05:00A new yearWelcome to 2012. <br />
It's been two months since I last posted an entry on my blog and that's because time has run off on me. I've been unbelievably busy these last few months. I've been working for AmeriCorps for 3 1/2 months now and I've been living in West Virginia for over seven. <br />
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My job has been wonderful. I can't believe that I'm actually doing something with my history degree. How many people can say that? Right out of college and I'm actually in the career field that I want to be in. At the museum, I've been doing everything from giving tours to decorating for Christmas to washing lace from 1830. I think I fit in really well with the people there and they like me a lot. It's so different than my internship at Pearl Buck. There's an actual staff at the North House and committees for each area of the historical society. There's an archives and a collections room. There are changing exhibits and people actual visit on a regular basis. It's like Pearl Buck was t-bee and the North House is little league, or maybe even middle school baseball.<br />
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At City Hall, we've been making some head way on new walking tour brochure. I'm really excited to be working on this project because the old on is, well, ....crappy. And I'm gonna make the new one totally kick ass. Other projects I got going on are a photo exhibit of Lewisburg through the years to be on display in City Hall, rerouting a Civil War path to the Confederate Cemetery, and developing signs to be places around the historic district of downtown Lewisburg as well as directional signs for pedestrians navigating downtown. <br />
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So that's what I've been up to. My professional life is soaring and so, because I believe in karma and balance, my social life is crap. That's how it's always been, but I'm fine with it. I never thought I would be doing such wonderful historical projects. I love my job. Every so often I'll get a little down in the dumps that my best friend is cable TV, but really it's not that terrible. How I Met Your Mother is a great show. And every time I get a little downer than normal, I walk around Lewisburg and I fall in love with the town all over again. It's adorable and quaint and lively and busy all at the same time. It's America's Coolest Small Town! <br />
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I haven't gotten into any crazy adventures down here. It's a bustling metropolis: no swimming in the river or living in tents for these people. It doesn't make as interesting a blog topic as my past WV living arrangement. But those mountain people are just a little too removed from society for me. (Although I do love the fact that I don't have internet at my house.) In November and December, I left town just about every other weekend. I went to Athens for a weekend and took Emily and Sonya, some non-native WV buddies, with me. It's pretty entertaining to watch people as they experience Athens on a home game day for the first time. I went to Ohio for Thanksgiving: had dinner with my grandpa and cousin, went to some bars in downtown Cleveland, hung out with my brothers in Columbus, saw a bad ass Irish band called <a href="http://www.myspace.com/drowsylads">The Drowsy Lads</a>. In December, another non-native WV buddy, Eva and I met Billy and Bethanne in the Smokies for a 5k called the Santa Hustle. Everyone was dressed up as Santa Claus. And it was every bit as ridiculous as you think it was.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, Eva, and Bethanne. I didn't take the beard off for the rest of the day. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Massive amount of Santas</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did I mention that we saw bears? 5 bears. Yes, Dad, there was a bear.</td></tr>
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Then I went back to GA for Christmas. I stopped in Athens on the way down, hung out in Leesburg for about a week, got to see some wonderful people, stopped in Athens and Greenville, SC on the way back up, and finally got back to WV on New Year's Eve. Unfortunately, I woke up Christmas Eve with tonsilitis, but it went away when momma loaded me up with pills, but I was stupid and forgot them at my parents' house. So on New Year's Eve, I woke up with my throat almost completely closed up. It hurt to talk, to eat, to drink, to breathe. I would have cried, but that hurt too. And I had to drive 5 1/2 hours back to WV like that. So my NYE was spent in bed from 3pm to 10am. I spent the next two days recovering, and even now I still don't feel 100%, but no pain no gain. <div><br />
</div><div>So the new year started out pretty crappy. But when I think about it, 2011 started out pretty crappy, but ended up being one of the best years of my life. So I'll take it. Comes in like a lion, our like a lamb kinda thing, right? Or is that March? The Ides of March? Now I've gone and confused myself. Anyways, that's the update on my life. I'm still alive and well, sorta. I may be updating the blog more often now because I've decided to leave the soul-sucking monster also known as Facebook. Maybe people will be more likely to actually call me and have a conversation rather than use the convenience of a network that claims to connect people when all it really does it alienate them. That's my rant for today. They'll prolly be another one soon. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Until then, Happy New Year. I wish you and yours a safe, happy, and healthy year. <br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-11328558074550443912011-11-04T13:35:00.000-04:002011-11-04T13:35:21.122-04:00I'm popularJust fyi, my blog is famous around the world.<br />
These countries have viewed my blog:<br />
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<tr><td align="left" style="vertical-align: top;"><div class="gwt-HTML"><div class="GKFKIV-HU GKFKIV-IU">Saint Kitts and Nevis</div></div></td><td align="right" style="vertical-align: middle;"><br />
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<tr><td align="left" style="vertical-align: top;"><div class="gwt-HTML"><div class="GKFKIV-HU GKFKIV-IU">Zambia</div><div class="GKFKIV-HU GKFKIV-IU">Hope all you non Americans are enjoying my nonsense. </div></div></td></tr>
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</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-85382712537046273572011-11-04T12:05:00.000-04:002011-11-04T12:05:17.413-04:00hula hoops and dance classThe results are in - 87% of you want me to keep the blog, and the other 13% wants me to only write interesting things. Well sorry 13%, but I'm going to write about boring monotonous things just because you voted incorrectly.<br />
Since getting back from the hurricane in Florida, I've been non stop busy. It's really November? Seriously? bleh I'm getting old....<br />
When I flew back to WV from Florida, I got to the Charleston airport around 9. As it was, I had tobe in Charleston the next two days for AmeriCorps training and swearing-in. I wasn't about to drive two hours back to Lewisburg just to drive back in the morning. So what did I do? What would anyone do in this situation? I drove to the nearest rest stop and slept in my car of course. And that my friends is why you should own a van or station wagon. Camrys are not conducive to a restful night's sleep. (And yes Mom, I lied to you about where I was sleeping because I knew you'd worry and freak out. Oh well. Get over it.)<br />
<br />
The next two days were a blur of silly training exercises and so called inspirational speakers. "Alright everybody, get into groups of people you don't know and stand in a circle of ten people. Here's a hula hoop. Everybody point your two index fingers straight out in front of you. Everybody's fingers have to be touching the hula hoop at all times. Now you have to lower the hula hoop to the ground, keeping it parallel to the ground the whole time. You have to <i>work together</i> to do this. No one can move faster or slower than anyone else. <i>Communicate. Listen. Work together.</i>" What am I, in kindergarten?! Give me something to do that I can actually apply to my job. That's some real hard core "leadership" training alright. Glad I had to leave my real job to do this nonsense. But for real, I like AmeriCorps. It's great. You should join.<br />
Unfortunately because of this training, I was unable to make it to a good friend's wedding in Atlanta. I'm sure Elyse was a beautiful bride and I wish her and her husband Nathan all the happiness that life can offer. <br />
<br />
I had a full week of work after having the week off for rain and leadership. But I had something to look forward to - Halloween weekend. Carnegie Hall showed The Rockey Horror Picture Show, the community came out in drag, and the audience participation was top notch. If you haven't seen this movie in a theater, I highly recommend it. Unless you're freaked out my dudes in lace panties and platform heels, in which case you probably shouldn't watch Rocky Horror anyways. <br />
Saturday night, Pretty Penny in Hillsboro was having a Thriller themed Halloween party. I could have gone as a zombie, but I had already decided on my costume: Liz Lemon. If you don't know who that is, it's the greatest TV character of all time. It's Tina Fey on 30 Rock. It's also Tina Fey in real life. It's also me in real life. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/Liz90Lemon?blend=21&ob=5">I could watch these videos all day.</a><br />
this is what my costume consisted of: jeans, tennis shoes, sweater, eating a lot, being awkward around people I don't know, being awkward around people I do know, making fun of everything around me, being mean to people and not even realizing it, eating, dancing awkwardly, eating, and eating. <br />
Nobody knew who I was. Partly because no one around here has basic cable and partly because they thought I was just being myself. Basically it was the best Halloween costume of all time. Slutty nurse? psh Slutty witch? psh Slutty anything? psh Imma be Liz Lemon always and forever.<br />
<br />
So Halloween came and went, but it was time to get back to reality. In my reality, I went to my first Hip Hop class. And I freakin rocked it. It was so much fun and I didn't look too terribly awkward, but only because there were some middle aged women in there that kinda took over in the awkward department. But you know what, props to them for getting out there and shaking what their mother's gave them. (I sincerely hope you read that in the whitest voice you could think of.)<br />
Not only did I join a hip hop class, but I finally, finally FINALLY joined a ballet class. I haven't taken a ballet class in four and a half years, until last night. And oh my goodness it was amazing. I felt terrible and unbalanced and unflexible, but it was the most amazing feeling to get back into ballet after being gone for so long. This class is considered the adult ballet class, but I'm the oldest person in the class. The rest are all in high school, and some of them just started learning ballet this year, after having just had modern classes. So it's not quite what I expected, and I know it will never challenge my technique, but I think it's better this way. It's taking me back to the basics. I need to sort of start over and ease myself back into it. Ballet is tough on your body and your mind, so I should focus on taking it slow. The kids kind of marveled at my turns (which, I'm not gonna lie, I'm freaking awesome at), but I told them practice makes perfect and you'll get there and I've been dancing longer than you've been alive. Ugh I'm old. Seriously - a decade and a half of dancing. SO OLD.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-36300363479698492672011-10-28T15:38:00.000-04:002011-10-28T15:38:55.712-04:00Florida vacation + rain = still better than not being on vacationSo I've lived in Lewisburg for about a month now. Things have definitely settled down compared to my life in Pocahontas. But I'll sum up the last couple weeks for you.<br />
My best friend, Bethanne, came for a visit. We had a lovely time. TOOT (Taste of our Town) was on Saturday and they shut down the main road in Lburg and all the restaurants had samplings of their food. First Friday was also that weekend. Tent City boys don't know how to function without some form of drama, but they performed as Casasanta again and it was pretty good. We also went hiking along the Scenic Highway and saw the Honeycomb Rocks and ate at the Pretty Penny. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIAk6No9bGfaKwYWUVBMUZ-f4sAC6zFLIIlohTeGUEWn4RhR6JRHAnMccJAm_MjXrN4Ruw6u_gXPhvFrapbEsfS-4hrplvf0Nr6SzblE-4onqGFTzTe6wh9ygJthsQgtY09EPU1ra-9gn/s1600/Picture+105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIAk6No9bGfaKwYWUVBMUZ-f4sAC6zFLIIlohTeGUEWn4RhR6JRHAnMccJAm_MjXrN4Ruw6u_gXPhvFrapbEsfS-4hrplvf0Nr6SzblE-4onqGFTzTe6wh9ygJthsQgtY09EPU1ra-9gn/s320/Picture+105.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My landlord went out of two a couple days after I moved in. She went on a three week safari in South Africa. Oh, to be rich. So I had the house to myself for a bit. It was nice except for her cat....this cat is 17 years old and the loudest thing on the planet. I think that it's vocal cords don't work anymore so instead of meowing like an animal, it scream like a banshee. MMMMMRRRRUUUUUWWANKNSACINEA. Yep. That's what it sounds like. And she doesn't do it once or twice. But ALL THE TIME. She'll just sit in the middle of the living room and think to herself, "Hmm. I'm bored. And I haven't done anything stupid in awhile. What should I do? .....MMMMMRRRRRUWWWANNANAREAJIFNAEVSE. MMMMRRRAIWNICFMIERNSIVRSG. MMMRMWAIISNICASIRVBNRSIHBD."<br />
<br />
I miss Cody.<br />
<br />
Nothing of great importance happened in the three weeks my landlord was gone. I went to the bar like twice, but because I didn't want to be the weirdo who goes to the bar by herself, I decided to stop doing that. It also doesn't help that I hate meeting new people. If I was a normal person, I might go somewhere by myself and casually strike up a conversation with someone. But me? Aw hell no. I think I scare people. The normal look on my face is a snarl because I hate mankind and everything in society, so people try to avoid me. Also, I've realized I'm an acquired taste. New people don't quite know how to handle me. When I swear like a sailor, drink like a fish, and make fun of everything around me, new people tend to think I'm a "bitch" or "mean" or a "sociopath." When in reality, I'm just a big fucking ray of sunshine!<br />
<br />
The last two years, my family has taken vacations. That's a huge freaking deal because we've never done that before. The last two years, we found awesome mountain cabins in the weeks before Christmas. And both years, there has been some disastrous snowstorm/shitstorm. So my bro and sis-in-law decided to hell with the mountains, we need to go somewhere warm. How bout the Keys? Great idea! lol good one. <br />
record breaking 15 inches of rain in 5 days. Seriously. Mother Nature hates the Ramsey family. That is not an opinion. That is a fact.<br />
<br />
Also, don't ever go to the Yeager Airport in Charleston West Virginia. They hold you hostage. As in, my flight was supposed to leave WV at 630 AM. I didn't leave WV til 11 AM. So yeah that sucks, but in a legitimate airport, you can eat food, go to the bar, shop, people watch. In the Yeager airport, you can sit on a chair, sit on the floor, stand up.....umm...go back out of security three times to change your flight and then come back through security three times and then everyone in security knows your name, where you're going, your life story, your hopes and dreams. Welcome to my hell. Welcome to my reality. <br />
I'm thinking Yeager airport, that'll be great. Maybe they'll have some jager. Nope. No airport bar. In fact there was only one restaurant: Biscuit World. What is that?! By the time I got hungry enough to actually consider purchasing "food" from Biscuit World, I realized I would not have enough time to go out of security again, buy some food, come back through security and make it to my flight. For the love of God, I never want to fly again.<br />
<br />
Finally I get to Florida. But not to the Keys. Just to Miami. And I know what you're thinking: Miami is at the tip of Florida. It can't be that far. Miami is practically in the Keys. No. Wrong. False. Miami is forever hours away from the Keys. Advice: If you ever want to go to the Keys, pay the extra money and fly into Key West. I promise you it's worth it.<br />
<br />
We make it to Florida! WOOO! Let's get our vacation on! <br />
Oh wait. It's raining. And it never stops. <br />
Thankfully, inside the house, it was raining wine. And it never stopped. After two and a half days, we had downed 13 bottles. And then we lost track. <br />
<br />
Here's some highlights of the trip. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MpugG5XgyYA2NhQTfOnjem6GGGCvkaf-Kf5ePQWcRP4JvffEpRbYhvISLtJ_c3tqv9kdtCwNIVW2X8OuX-uwwXVxoszXf5N72TVsR9CgV6oqcISI-u44v4JF_lmgejsTF5kaKYnqser4/s1600/Picture+157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2MpugG5XgyYA2NhQTfOnjem6GGGCvkaf-Kf5ePQWcRP4JvffEpRbYhvISLtJ_c3tqv9kdtCwNIVW2X8OuX-uwwXVxoszXf5N72TVsR9CgV6oqcISI-u44v4JF_lmgejsTF5kaKYnqser4/s320/Picture+157.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Z looking doofy. Not a highlight, just a normal thing for him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_S6tk_CK_IEBQd1rxJSJNPPFiF_PNCyra-d09YIRQQIo6Vzh72lLuCOCfEAYKixtLy9JHaZ1SFQI0fOTfxo3VMlktTsNTt4r5C0MpsR98OLQT90niR0K3aIpra-0Zntu9d269lT_QTHAR/s1600/Picture+156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_S6tk_CK_IEBQd1rxJSJNPPFiF_PNCyra-d09YIRQQIo6Vzh72lLuCOCfEAYKixtLy9JHaZ1SFQI0fOTfxo3VMlktTsNTt4r5C0MpsR98OLQT90niR0K3aIpra-0Zntu9d269lT_QTHAR/s320/Picture+156.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crazy ass wind.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKfFMn7DkHtAcUNjMLtBYpcz_Dy9kCQjibWfwrXO2NVJPg3wwHwU9jkVAbh5Cp1wiXfj0NIvFCCXJemTw7NChdXjDvbaISdoBovTkfSioyCCLy0fu5uHJQz-OYaELAplOvCABrHUrNe9Q/s1600/Picture+163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcKfFMn7DkHtAcUNjMLtBYpcz_Dy9kCQjibWfwrXO2NVJPg3wwHwU9jkVAbh5Cp1wiXfj0NIvFCCXJemTw7NChdXjDvbaISdoBovTkfSioyCCLy0fu5uHJQz-OYaELAplOvCABrHUrNe9Q/s400/Picture+163.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ominous skies</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0nij8llOam-NPNHw7sQPpweNW_7xEaK3lMIgTZQG9-7o7m-Wu-a1Y8pXdb5CsuSkxR7J82rZc-a9i7enVxZr21JvZpxkOMt9BOgrvZ0U7IL3nYWnL1hWEhgVC92x32z9TQFCygORtenX/s1600/Picture+170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0nij8llOam-NPNHw7sQPpweNW_7xEaK3lMIgTZQG9-7o7m-Wu-a1Y8pXdb5CsuSkxR7J82rZc-a9i7enVxZr21JvZpxkOMt9BOgrvZ0U7IL3nYWnL1hWEhgVC92x32z9TQFCygORtenX/s400/Picture+170.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sea shell tree</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcds5ooekV0AYtMwGvAN1-lcyDFICcM3D5fTI_z3qFZazSJ48YvxNTPxYAshLYUXhEkthhyphenhyphenK-LLUk4weOAPSpkmTHR97pFSkHxDAuuUYErRc3mm-8_85JarWzc2jvTJMVH4T8rS_UnLag/s1600/Picture+182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcds5ooekV0AYtMwGvAN1-lcyDFICcM3D5fTI_z3qFZazSJ48YvxNTPxYAshLYUXhEkthhyphenhyphenK-LLUk4weOAPSpkmTHR97pFSkHxDAuuUYErRc3mm-8_85JarWzc2jvTJMVH4T8rS_UnLag/s320/Picture+182.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yeah we should totally climb that during a storm. what a good idea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSbB3CW13ZzKVUJuwiWc4RiLi5b8plqfelXd6fEO7-H2Oni5DLdtTjWWvSRjnIxZ7dkGidywwq8BfskoY5SR-Tb8dV9ZU4j6btIYVzjIcsiYdN_AwEpY67iUQFsdNiyGKzKfouR4c03-OD/s1600/Picture+180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSbB3CW13ZzKVUJuwiWc4RiLi5b8plqfelXd6fEO7-H2Oni5DLdtTjWWvSRjnIxZ7dkGidywwq8BfskoY5SR-Tb8dV9ZU4j6btIYVzjIcsiYdN_AwEpY67iUQFsdNiyGKzKfouR4c03-OD/s400/Picture+180.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">spongebob creeperman</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhOgXc7UwX6bqSOW_ljZY8p044usNWeY-zi9ZxxoCCU_PbKr2OwVzNdA89SlIoLyRNU2rtw3z29pL6VMzPablFXE0GFJvQ9nDqT0NN7EeYUbwV_YoiZM9rsC4qwHh-fPhl1ECLW58HmQV/s1600/Picture+192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPhOgXc7UwX6bqSOW_ljZY8p044usNWeY-zi9ZxxoCCU_PbKr2OwVzNdA89SlIoLyRNU2rtw3z29pL6VMzPablFXE0GFJvQ9nDqT0NN7EeYUbwV_YoiZM9rsC4qwHh-fPhl1ECLW58HmQV/s400/Picture+192.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hemingway's writing studio - everything original, except the most important thing - the typewriter</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1o8AAOwLtkYHDUzCJMgnCIElojSiST7KyWe1wPJjpcbgGUpa3ShnwaJe3L9nHafOF3AxlG9H-vsASaux0M30L6jo4BN-az_8cspns117YoqPUh-UMeVfIlKvZ9ZFXCAIvyYCY97U6lYF/s1600/Picture+190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1o8AAOwLtkYHDUzCJMgnCIElojSiST7KyWe1wPJjpcbgGUpa3ShnwaJe3L9nHafOF3AxlG9H-vsASaux0M30L6jo4BN-az_8cspns117YoqPUh-UMeVfIlKvZ9ZFXCAIvyYCY97U6lYF/s320/Picture+190.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tour guide feeding the 6 toed cats</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPtJmpI7pk1W7aC8x3JIr5sXKjDdWmkHh4qZzbwmZaGqIvhpLxo0PEtum7VDWdTDT__xGeAdylJGG4L7HJkO_hvoggSldRd5HjCxsXzC5zjFYHDDkRlx1hFU5PAPW9gHKBCfdAGyBACN8/s1600/Picture+191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPtJmpI7pk1W7aC8x3JIr5sXKjDdWmkHh4qZzbwmZaGqIvhpLxo0PEtum7VDWdTDT__xGeAdylJGG4L7HJkO_hvoggSldRd5HjCxsXzC5zjFYHDDkRlx1hFU5PAPW9gHKBCfdAGyBACN8/s400/Picture+191.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">giant feet!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAT9p1xNP7gReGA9jDwjpgbmnXbiNhJkKVfR0qg9R2mX3abPgCFb2o240kJpLmfbjpLhaZOlIrJdu_JFXSYMp637F9xl7dtGYBigsWMRUlqgwrpUpUPGTo7tIJs4DFG9iPIoDpLt_gFjL/s1600/Picture+197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTAT9p1xNP7gReGA9jDwjpgbmnXbiNhJkKVfR0qg9R2mX3abPgCFb2o240kJpLmfbjpLhaZOlIrJdu_JFXSYMp637F9xl7dtGYBigsWMRUlqgwrpUpUPGTo7tIJs4DFG9iPIoDpLt_gFjL/s400/Picture+197.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turtle race! Mine won!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nShvdyN4v6C7W7KRqqSXh-6PbUUYX5SFmvdIXHg7Byke6sPVT2Gnt01vahttIm1KSunxhv6WM_h-cgf4kKLgUcAvKh_S-vVzfoIZjwBtmorxmmNYlN9ztzBYR8dZx_ORApy9XkBFYCfB/s1600/Picture+194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nShvdyN4v6C7W7KRqqSXh-6PbUUYX5SFmvdIXHg7Byke6sPVT2Gnt01vahttIm1KSunxhv6WM_h-cgf4kKLgUcAvKh_S-vVzfoIZjwBtmorxmmNYlN9ztzBYR8dZx_ORApy9XkBFYCfB/s320/Picture+194.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of the line</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nzrdogFhMXYIMnKeTDY4pxGCdsc0geXxtHT4olCHybbFCWbTXtjd3n8gN-erut2YRgqqnHr2vY0ZZHWvj_5p6XbaxtbC2EzAqargXvyBF6h7ryfJyV7ZM7kQ5i4cVVzREeS0Az_1LfVD/s1600/Picture+201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7nzrdogFhMXYIMnKeTDY4pxGCdsc0geXxtHT4olCHybbFCWbTXtjd3n8gN-erut2YRgqqnHr2vY0ZZHWvj_5p6XbaxtbC2EzAqargXvyBF6h7ryfJyV7ZM7kQ5i4cVVzREeS0Az_1LfVD/s400/Picture+201.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dats right errbody - that got Terrapin beer in Key West!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTUTPcJJI81KlbS0130m30HvR1T-6kV-Q5kDfFgfBoXEu9j-XkzoIws-8e11Y9QPAil4Mgq8JHmd6xB25cF9uFMb2hIhShL9qAnc1fOYaKffAoNxU6hJAvDY5k7kKBiFP_sD90LWfiU9d/s1600/Picture+213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYTUTPcJJI81KlbS0130m30HvR1T-6kV-Q5kDfFgfBoXEu9j-XkzoIws-8e11Y9QPAil4Mgq8JHmd6xB25cF9uFMb2hIhShL9qAnc1fOYaKffAoNxU6hJAvDY5k7kKBiFP_sD90LWfiU9d/s320/Picture+213.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">me and momma looking sloppy at Sloppy Joe's</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4Y1gCYZRNg20OtAk1FMq27kNbKwqGFxhp3t_cUb_9cIVn9PV8F5wLWW4q74vFiK5xNFCOSfhzafp-AMNPmCxx7cXBTZGxse2Z6dTsyphir4j6jrAqVjDjM8sCDr1_dX7nvWZQZqJcDDn/s1600/Picture+208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4Y1gCYZRNg20OtAk1FMq27kNbKwqGFxhp3t_cUb_9cIVn9PV8F5wLWW4q74vFiK5xNFCOSfhzafp-AMNPmCxx7cXBTZGxse2Z6dTsyphir4j6jrAqVjDjM8sCDr1_dX7nvWZQZqJcDDn/s320/Picture+208.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sloppy Joe from Sloppy Joe's</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmmTe_MflS1J8ZER7khMVKw10eKjX2lGDOpWe7Hc_TsHluWHYVNWinna__DiyLSlytY3afjuA1rnJKTNHdU7RiX_GR8QJm6zvYbyTND-fRHdLPkZItikWI8j5LpX6cMoFkX0qYnunaHSV/s1600/Picture+207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmmTe_MflS1J8ZER7khMVKw10eKjX2lGDOpWe7Hc_TsHluWHYVNWinna__DiyLSlytY3afjuA1rnJKTNHdU7RiX_GR8QJm6zvYbyTND-fRHdLPkZItikWI8j5LpX6cMoFkX0qYnunaHSV/s320/Picture+207.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of the line!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-44270987961453932842011-10-13T13:11:00.001-04:002011-10-13T13:14:37.888-04:00eating roadkill? just another day in WVa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDLahny3eBg8m95uMd8tY_asbPD7NdlyyQfVjaqLDABarlfJUAMGlCJy9Vf2PrePh2rsBjdOBzPnPVH62vzxqkjW8kxo-insiby_ZeIGJeKR1Wes2VBwya9R0I1Mcu0-RAMUXdgJByDAY/s1600/Picture+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfDLahny3eBg8m95uMd8tY_asbPD7NdlyyQfVjaqLDABarlfJUAMGlCJy9Vf2PrePh2rsBjdOBzPnPVH62vzxqkjW8kxo-insiby_ZeIGJeKR1Wes2VBwya9R0I1Mcu0-RAMUXdgJByDAY/s320/Picture+045.jpg" width="179" /></a></div><br />
The Roadkill Cookoff. Something I've been looking forward to for months. The Possum Trot 5k. Something I've been training for for months. This was finally it. I register for the race, drink the rest of my coffee, throw on a vest, and head to the start line. OH YEAH! PUMPED! Not as many people signed up for the race as I would have thought. Only about 20. And I didn't know anyone, but I figured that was better. I'd only embarass myself in front of people I didn't know.<br />
Runners on your mark.<br />
Get set.<br />
GO!<br />
fast forward 20 minutes. The race was an out and back, not a loop. So once you got to a certain spot, you would turn around, thus being able to see who was behind you. But guess what....that's right....nobody was behind me. Nobody. You know what that means, LAST PLACE BITCHES!<br />
pause story. Now had been training for this all summer. Not hard core so I knew I would be bad. I figured the average runner has about a ten minute mile. 5ks are just over 3 miles. So to give myself some room for error, I wanted to finish my first 5k in under 40 minutes. Totally doable. Then I thought to myself, wouldn't it be really funny if I got last place? Of course, I wouldn't <i>try</i> to get last place, but it would be funny if it ended up that way. <br />
return to story. I have a watch on and I know that my time is good. I'm gonna finish before I want to. Even though I'm the last person to cross the finish, I am freaking stoked. People cheering for me, me cheering for myself. Whatever, it's all fun and games. Then comes the time to hand out the awards. Overall winners blah blah blah. Winners from 14-19 blah blah blah (yeah that's right. a 14 year old beat me). Winners from 20-29. Megan Ramsey.<br />
wait...what?<br />
that can't be right.<br />
I was in last place!<br />
Yeah but you were the only female in your age group.<br />
wha.......HELL YEAH! HELL FREAKING YEAH!<br />
Sometimes when you lose, you win!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZeA1JQS4BsrnXGLLNmA3tUuqQtZFU6m2nC1Kp1SWTuqsI27iw5VH7km6iFX1-GkHL66k_IW-WqGcWBgSPlpamHQw8jo2Kvz-GloVI0ga5M4eHT8p1ZuRKZP38ds2IFAk9jYlvwkLpSKG/s1600/Picture+070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijZeA1JQS4BsrnXGLLNmA3tUuqQtZFU6m2nC1Kp1SWTuqsI27iw5VH7km6iFX1-GkHL66k_IW-WqGcWBgSPlpamHQw8jo2Kvz-GloVI0ga5M4eHT8p1ZuRKZP38ds2IFAk9jYlvwkLpSKG/s400/Picture+070.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my new hood ornament</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Mwuahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha....<br />
<br />
Moving right along. After a quick shower at some friends' house, and eating some of their food, I headed back to the Cookoff because, being the great humanitarian that I am, I had promised Emily that I would volunteer at the Chamber of Commerce tent. About an hour later, Andew Zimmern shows up with his film crew. For those of you who don't know Andrew Zimmern, he's on the Travel Channel and eats bizarre foods. You can read more about his show <a href="http://www.travelchannel.com/TV_Shows/Bizarre_Foods">at the travel channel website.</a><br />
He was shooting a story about the Roadkill Cookoff and he was one of the judges as well. Once Zimmern got there, people went nuts. But I didn't really care about a semi famous dude. All I cared about was food. I mean, I ran 3 miles; I felt it was time to consume weird meats. Mink, alligator, crawdads, crow, bear, rabbit - all cooked in awesome way. There was gumbo, chowder, kabobs, grilled, sauteed. I was disappointed that I couldn't find any possum or raccoon. But maybe next year.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw1YKfwSYW3cVH68GbxQ-8JQaBZBJgvZq6UuSB4vl1YAHOZ_2zSkECS8LSZoDpSKmwzPyHLELFakrE9gmyK6QLmP0Dq_FayDC84SqSKltyiyXE0kUSN9hXduqcrFA5a3AakizT05Tnz9S/s1600/Picture+048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitw1YKfwSYW3cVH68GbxQ-8JQaBZBJgvZq6UuSB4vl1YAHOZ_2zSkECS8LSZoDpSKmwzPyHLELFakrE9gmyK6QLmP0Dq_FayDC84SqSKltyiyXE0kUSN9hXduqcrFA5a3AakizT05Tnz9S/s320/Picture+048.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mink</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKgGqrVDJc9y6st1sBf9Yyfb_RJAZWOS2iVniUz2M3Mlvebad7uaU5QvBaljLtOqPgWmE7Mic5f-OD5XbAzPBdaPAel31dCd-jruzrWxE-mk4wieIlDJN8YgaOpVkWTW1sk_89BO6N3k5F/s1600/Picture+053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKgGqrVDJc9y6st1sBf9Yyfb_RJAZWOS2iVniUz2M3Mlvebad7uaU5QvBaljLtOqPgWmE7Mic5f-OD5XbAzPBdaPAel31dCd-jruzrWxE-mk4wieIlDJN8YgaOpVkWTW1sk_89BO6N3k5F/s320/Picture+053.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">your eyes are not deceiving you: it says deer poop soup</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIQKgZFb7i8vbA4-8GKHrzmFRLED7fLlZKj4x4hp2SuGctzfVSh3jIiUjtAOMtqMHf43LQDscYwyzPOuRbXPWDpXLmLvHsvmUUxzR9hmVe7PJMHc7kTeaFq1E5BhtJ2Rd6TcDB8JbL_sw/s1600/Picture+057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIQKgZFb7i8vbA4-8GKHrzmFRLED7fLlZKj4x4hp2SuGctzfVSh3jIiUjtAOMtqMHf43LQDscYwyzPOuRbXPWDpXLmLvHsvmUUxzR9hmVe7PJMHc7kTeaFq1E5BhtJ2Rd6TcDB8JbL_sw/s320/Picture+057.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
After the Cookoff, some of my Ameri Corps buddies came down from Elkins to hang out and attend the Vest Virgina Vestival. Note: I've recently become obsessed with vests. It was a grand ole time.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vests everywhere!</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKz0JwWYHETVOS_iGXZMXoqekScEVxBEmn5hPNTvyuypQ10YPUMy_ie9JN167mi27ikPE0W7XPkYwmVjXldSpS1teQdUMX0CquabHolm6C6nVWqi-caXUlAbcULuu0JV_1pup9mMFjNRL/s1600/Picture+073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKz0JwWYHETVOS_iGXZMXoqekScEVxBEmn5hPNTvyuypQ10YPUMy_ie9JN167mi27ikPE0W7XPkYwmVjXldSpS1teQdUMX0CquabHolm6C6nVWqi-caXUlAbcULuu0JV_1pup9mMFjNRL/s320/Picture+073.jpg" width="179" /></a></div><br />
Marlinton has been hosting a traveling Smithsonian exhibit called "<a href="http://www.archives.gov/exhibits/twww/">The Way We Worked</a>" and it centers around employment in America: why we work, how, where, with who. And the Pocahontas County Historical Society made a supplementary exhibit focusing on logging in our area. It's a really interesting idea and I got to be the docent for the exhibit the day after Roadkill. I got to wear a dress from the early 1900s and welcomed people into the exhibit. Super easy, and I was glad to be a part of this exhibit as Marlinton was the first place to host it. It will continue traveling around the state and will eventually make it to Lewisburg early next year. <br />
<br />
After a busy weekend in Marlinton, it was time to think about moving. At some point, I would have to relocate to Lewisburg. Driving 45 minutes each way in the mountains to work every day was just not gonna cut it. Finally, I spent my last night in my trailer on Tuesday September 27. I had lived in Pocahontas county just over 4 months. In that small amount of time, my life changed dramatically. Now, this blog is not about my personal journey and how I've become this new person. This blog is about telling you all about my sometime ridiculous, but always entertaining adventures. Moving to Lewisburg was going to be moving back to civilization. It's a bustling town. There's several traffic lights. Options for grocery stores. I mean there's like 8 restaurants. It's huge! Life in the 'burg is gonna be different than life in PoCo.<br />
So as I've made this big move and settled back into life with cell reception, cable TV, and traffic jams, I've tried to decide whether or not to keep my blog. For the past 4 months, I've attempted to entertain you with all the wacky situations I've gotten myself into. Now that I'm back to reality, I feel as if I'm just living the same old life as everybody else.<br />
So I'm leaving it up to you, my readers, whoever you may be. Should I keep the blog? Or should I say a final goodbye to the summer of my life?<br />
If you've never commented before, or if you comment on every post, now is the time to make yourself heard.<br />
Either leave a comment, or vote in the poll on the right side of the screen. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-82512072917085445552011-09-29T12:53:00.000-04:002011-09-29T12:53:15.361-04:00new adventuresAfter a pleasant trip home, it was time to get back to work. And this time, I had a real job. I was to begin AmeriCorps training the day after I got back from GA. Training took place in Elkins, WV. Nobody really knows where that is, but they host the biggest festival in the state - the Mountain State Forest Festival, which has been attended by 3 or 4 US Prezeseses. So it's kind of a big deal. I rode with Cynthia and we had made plans to stay with a new AmeriCorps member and her boyfriend who was a new VISTA member. Lovely lovely people. We had lots of fun with those two. Big fans. Anyways, I didn't really have any idea what training would be like. It turns out "training" is another word for "paperwork." Is it just me, or when filling out tax forms do you hyperventilate and never know which number to put? "Do I list myself as 0 or 1? What if my parents put me down as a dependent but I list myself as independent? What if the IRS comes knocking on my door and I don't have the money to pay them and they take my dog away because I'm a bad citizen? What if I go to jail for tax fraud?! I can't go to jail! I won't make it! I won't be someone's bitch! I should start collecting cigarettes now to pay for things in The Big House." This runs through my head EVERY TIME I fill out any kind of tax form. It's horrifying. I'm surprised I don't have any gray hairs. <br />
<br />
Anyways, there was lots of paperwork and not much "training" per se. But the big group of us (23 I think) got along pretty well. Every night after training, there was at least a small group of us hanging out. Thursday we went to Canaan Valley, which is a pretty popular skiing destination. We had planned on camping that night. What we hadn't planned on was rain. and cold. and cold rain. Some people (the wussies) backed out and went home. But there was still about 12 of us that roughed it and camped. It reached about 35 degrees that night. But we definitely had a good time and I think it was totally worth it. Campfire stories are legendary. <br />
<br />
At this point, I hadn't seen the Tent City boys in about two weeks. Surprisingly, I was not going through withdrawals, but I figured they were because, I mean come on, I'm freaking awesome and people can't handle not hanging out with me. Anyways, I head over to Tent City only to find that no one was there. They've moved on. Sigh. And so it goes. Well, screw that - I'm moving to America's Coolest Small Town. I don't need creepy, smelly, hippie boys. I'm gonna have clean, smart, respectable School of Osteopathic Medicine boys. Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you - there's a med school in town. Quality dudes that don't smell like roadkill or don't crap in an outhouse. "Movin' on up, to the east side. To a deluxe apartment in the sky." <br />
<br />
But alas, I love those boys, so I returned the next day to find them pressing apples. Again. And they roped me into helping. Again. But I got some awesome cider out of it. Again. So I aint complaining. <br />
<br />
Then it was time to start the new job. <br />
My position with AmeriCorps is split in between two sites: North House Museum and the City of Lewisburg. I'll be half time with each site, which prolly means I'll be 3/4 time with each site, which prolly means I'm gona be busy as hell. I am perfectly fine with that! Each week I spend 3 days at one site and 2 at the other. My first week, I was at the North House for three days. My job there will be to catalog their collections. But my boss, the director of the museum, wants to wait for a professional to come in and show the two of us exactly what to do. Until that happens, I've been given odd jobs: researching food from 1820s, finding fake food on the internet, researching values of stamps, posting books on ebay. My second day on the job, the Mayor calls me. He's my other boss, sort of. He calls to inform me that I'll be attending a monument maintenance workshop in Charleston, the state capital. Everything is paid for and I'll be riding with two people from the Historic Landmarks Commission. Two days on the job and I'm already being sent away. HOLLER! So I finish my three days at the museum and I start my day at the City. I have an office. Not only do I have an office, I have an office with a view. WHAT! Awesome. Check my last posting (Norwegia) for the picture. So I come in and meet a lady from the HLC and she gives me a giant notebook full of properties located within the Historic District. She tells me, to sum it up, to organize it. And that's about it. One of my favorite things as an employee: vague directions. Not.<br />
But I didn't care because I was going to Charleston the next day. My work day on Friday was 730 AM to midnight. And I learned about how to clean stone and metal on monuments. And I got some free food. And that's about it. Worth it? Heck yeah! Because I wasn't sitting behind a desk, staring at a computer screen for 6 hours, like I've been doing for the past two days. <br />
<br />
Well that's enough for today. Tune in next time to hear about the Roadkill Cookoff and my very first 5k!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8brCyFSwdN0q8uhANGq27FnZr1nrlApmNaEESC7T5rYeZRzhoFaH2koeCLrheiaq025cZfNUA2iBL_dausMryRqdOSFkiuo4vQzAF-zkT2Ks7P2CmctsfIBZaGE2T5aAs3lEuE9ll7Ys_/s1600/Picture+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8brCyFSwdN0q8uhANGq27FnZr1nrlApmNaEESC7T5rYeZRzhoFaH2koeCLrheiaq025cZfNUA2iBL_dausMryRqdOSFkiuo4vQzAF-zkT2Ks7P2CmctsfIBZaGE2T5aAs3lEuE9ll7Ys_/s400/Picture+033.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We camped next to the river. It was so cold! but so wonderful!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-82747616504716042712011-09-22T13:37:00.000-04:002011-09-22T13:37:59.908-04:00norwegiaLots has been going on. I'm so busy, I haven't had time to breathe let alone write up a blog post. I'm even too busy right now to tell you all the things I've been doing. My birthday was awesome. Friday night was spent in Lewisburg for First Friday. Every first Friday of the month, downtown L-burg has a big party with art shows and live music and meal deals and such. I went down with some of the boys because they had a gig at a bar.<br />
That's right - they had an actual performance in front of an audience. I have some pictures that don't do justice to the experience. When I have a better internet connection, I'll post them. Through the Tent City boys, I met some girls that live in Lewisburg. And they rock. I'm so excited that when I move down there, I'll actually know people and have people to hang out with, rather than wishing I were in PoCo. <br />
<br />
<br />
Justin, Garrick, Karen, Zachary, Mandy, and Rachel all came to visit on Saturday. Before they got here, I was able to visit the Little Levels Clothing Center and I bought a crap ton of clothes. And everything was 25 cents. Okay, not <i>everything</i> was 25 cents. Everything <i>individually</i> was 25 cents. But still 25 CENTS! Ridiculous. The afternoon was kind of wasted as people slowly started coming and we had to wait for the others. But once everyone got there, we went to the Pretty Penny for dinner and it was delicious. I mean, it's normally good, but it seemed especially good on Saturday. And there was live music - Shawn Owen. - he played acoustic guitar and he rocked it. He just did covers, but he was awesome nonetheless. We had planned on going to the Pocahontas Opera House to see the Black Mountain Bluegrass Boys, but we were running late and didn't want to rush up there to hear only 30 mins of music and then have to drive all the way back to Hillsboro. So we stayed and listened to Shawn and I believe everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves. After dinner, we scooted home for some DQ ice cream (that's still in my freezer and I am so excited to get home and devour it!) and gift giving. The boys got together and got me my own mandolin! WOOT! It's not even used. Brand new. My own mandolin! Soo much better than the one I've been playing all summer. And they got me a couple of books, so I can actually teach myself things instead of just fooling around trying to figure things out. <br />
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Sunday, we cooked an awesome breakfast and geared up for a hike. We went on the High Rocks Trail, the same trail I took my parents and Billy and Bethanne on. It's a fairly simple trail with an awesome ending view of the Little Levels valley. It was pretty hot and humid, but a pretty day. It didn't look like the weather would be too bad for the pond party we were planning on going to that evening. But oh how we were wrong. We picked up some food and headed to Tent City. Just as we pull in, the boys are all pulling out - perfect timing. So we followed them over to the Pond Party. Again, perfect timing, just as we unloaded out things, it started pouring down rain. So the Pond Party became the Lodge Party. People playing pool, people jamming in the dining room, people eating bear....yep. More bear. Bear stew, bear jerky, slow cooked bear, delicious, juicy, amazingly awesome BEAR. That was prolly the highlight of the evening. That, and the giggle berries. What? You've never heard of giggle berries? Of course you haven't: you live in society and don't eat things like bear and giggle berries. The giggle berries were a gift from Corey. He was supposed to find me moonshine, but alas he could not. Instead he brought giggle berries (which is such a fun combination of words). Giggle berry (noun): A small piece a fruit, usually a grape, strawberry, or small peach, soaked for a ridiculous amount of time in moonshine. It's better than moonshine in the fact that it doesn't taste like moonshine (which tastes like rubbing alcohol), but instead tastes like the fruit with just an after taste of gasoline. <br />
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Everyone left the next morning to go home and live their lives. And I got to leave too, except I had a 7 hour drive to Greenville, SC. I stopped at Billy and Bethanne's on the way down home. 12 hours of driving just didn't seem like a good idea after a night of giggle berries. Those two kids are really awesome. And if you haven't met them, you need to. Good people. The next morning Bethanne and I went to the Goodwill Clearance Center. You read that right: Goodwill Clearance Center. America's favorite thrift store has a clearance center for all the crap they couldn't sell in their regular crappy stores. So of course I wanted to go. And it was awesome. Things didn't have prices - everything was $1.19 a pound. PER POUND. WHAT?! Goodwill just reached a new level of awesome. So I got $9 worth of stuff. You do the math.<br />
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Then on to southwest Georgia. Nothing much happened in Leesburg. Same old same old. But calm down, Mom. I had a good time. Nice to be home after being on another planet for a couple months. The first night I got there, I was playing with Cody on the living room floor. Good ole Mary Lou asks "Ummm, Megan. Are you gonna....wash your hair sometime?" No Mom. Haven't you heard? I'm a mountain hippie now. Bathing is against my religion. <br />
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Before returning to the promised land of WV, I visited my second favorite place in the world: Athens.<br />
It was kind of a blur, for several reasons, so I'll just give you the highlights.<br />
Set off my old roommates home security system and drove away as fast as I could, partied at my favorite bar - Walker's and got to hang out with a hot dude that doesn't live in a tent, saw some of my favorite girls in the world, tailgated for the football game and played my mandolin for everybody.<br />
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End of the trip home. Prolly won't get back down south til Christmas. Maybe Athens in November. <br />
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PS. I forgot to mention that more family came to visit in July, or was it August? I can't even remember anymore. But we had a great time. Showed them Beartown and Cranberry Glades of course. They came and ate at Watoga while I was working and we hung out in Lewisburg a little bit. By the way, Lewisburg is definitely not America's Coolest Small Town when you are looking to eat on a Monday night. Every restaurant is closed. Stupid. Another stupid thing: my cousin Sydney thinks there is a place in the world called Norwegia. Not Norway - Norwegia. But I guess I'll let that slide. She's only 9 years old. <br />
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Tune in next time when I tell you my adventures in AmeriCorps training in Elkins, WV and starting my new job at the North House Museum and the City of Lewisburg!<br />
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And just to give you a little taste, here's a picture...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRqZHrotTPmJ67xKW1OuZKSDyBL9AOqJGlPfg5O9lfxXYTcAFqSzCZ77X8jyYTdc5DkifeH1oygF-mBQh_ul3ltHX9T-LqpDi-eNOJJg4G_69KRig9qIHnaZkLrn54UzUtQXWrEHPer1t/s1600/lewisburg+office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNRqZHrotTPmJ67xKW1OuZKSDyBL9AOqJGlPfg5O9lfxXYTcAFqSzCZ77X8jyYTdc5DkifeH1oygF-mBQh_ul3ltHX9T-LqpDi-eNOJJg4G_69KRig9qIHnaZkLrn54UzUtQXWrEHPer1t/s400/lewisburg+office.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who's got two thumbs and has not only a huge office, but one with a view?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-81784036546298717082011-09-02T15:05:00.000-04:002011-09-02T15:05:01.744-04:00September? already?All summer, PSBB has been trying to do these special tours on Sunday afternoons. No one has ever showed up. This past Sunday, we tried something new. Not a tour, but a presentation on genealogy. Some local guy who had done a lot of research on Pearl's family gave a presentation on how you can research your own family history on the internet. It was actually pretty interesting and a few people actually showed up. Not at all as terrible as it could have been. Afterward, I thought it was good weather for a swim. I decided to head up to the pond by Tent City, but before I could even get our of Hillsboro, I see a familiar truck. Andrew and Corey are sitting in the back, so I decided to pull up real close to them. Well, being boys, they decide to mess with me. And how do they accomplish this? By pelting my car with apples. Tons of apples. They had spent the day driving all over Hillsboro picking up apples to make cider. Hundreds of apples. The entire bed of the truck was filled with apples. An overwhelming amount of apples. So.many.apples. Anyways, we all head to a buddy's house to use his apple press to make the cider. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ohs.org/education/folklife/images/apple_press_at_Spires_Ranch.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.ohs.org/education/folklife/images/apple_press_at_Spires_Ranch.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>There are few things in life as amazingly delicious as freshly pressed apple cider. Freshly pressed apple cider and whiskey, maybe. We spent most of the late afternoon/early evening pressing apples, and now there are gallons and gallons of cider! EmNewt came to help and she was asking if any of the boys wanted to go rock climbing with her the next day. The next day being a Monday, they all had to work. I've never been rock climbing. I don't consider myself afraid of heights per se, but it just never really interested me before. Well, EmNewt needed a buddy to go with her, for the ropes and belay and all that jazz, so I said, as usual, why the hell not?<br />
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That's right. I went rock climbing. Not in a gym on a piece of plastic. On a rock. A cliff.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.rockclimbing.com/images/photos/assets/1/92681-largest_57920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.rockclimbing.com/images/photos/assets/1/92681-largest_57920.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>No this isn't my picture. And no I didn't go climbing out of the water, although that would have been totally bad ass. We went to Summersville Lake, which is unbelievably beautiful and a popular destination for climbers. There are probably hundreds of climbs around the lake. I didn't know much about climbing, so EmNewt explained some to me. Each climb has a rating of difficulty, 1-16, 16 being upside down and you have to be certifiably insane to climb it. EmNewt said she's comfortable on 8 and 9. So I figured, me being a newbie, she would take me on a 3, 4, even a level 5. Nope. 7. HA! yeah freaking right, EmNewt. Not gonna happen. Oh, but it did. And I kicked it's ass. It was probably one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Easily the most terrifying and the most exhilarating experience. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUFa2psebq6yL_oxsvG0hrkc-FBJ5w1Y5N30Zr9JF-SXDjHCRMqs0P2F6WQq159fNhjfLjGrjRjdntzQ7Rc81_oYwcaysC1RbVQuGQ1hVxccrsUDhK4nudSvWo6jg6ORVivymPRTjPwnJ/s1600/Picture+192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUFa2psebq6yL_oxsvG0hrkc-FBJ5w1Y5N30Zr9JF-SXDjHCRMqs0P2F6WQq159fNhjfLjGrjRjdntzQ7Rc81_oYwcaysC1RbVQuGQ1hVxccrsUDhK4nudSvWo6jg6ORVivymPRTjPwnJ/s320/Picture+192.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hmm...I think I should choose a really hard climb for Megan.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv65OqqieyGRNBvHcLHr7H8nIdlKEKNPTdINIKT-8tgvX9YUIrMTnrheoNvuIlWcIPvSQk-KPqFVVahUMvGWR5xQdnrbfum0jrF3wlPFm76KCZ4CY_KnQY-cH45jnnK2CFdQPysEQ14W2-/s1600/Picture+188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv65OqqieyGRNBvHcLHr7H8nIdlKEKNPTdINIKT-8tgvX9YUIrMTnrheoNvuIlWcIPvSQk-KPqFVVahUMvGWR5xQdnrbfum0jrF3wlPFm76KCZ4CY_KnQY-cH45jnnK2CFdQPysEQ14W2-/s320/Picture+188.jpg" width="178" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture does not do it justice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnurr78I4EyHzIYNtnC6lU6VCwlgEGnI0ns-x8Ltz5-zCe61epfsD-IappZRErirZH5I8CZ0k1qHWD1wI12Liei5y3iMJU6Z0VyxQilxw7hRPH-k2pqnKSG8nwOs_ALy8gS5U4sMIBZ7cs/s1600/Picture+190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnurr78I4EyHzIYNtnC6lU6VCwlgEGnI0ns-x8Ltz5-zCe61epfsD-IappZRErirZH5I8CZ0k1qHWD1wI12Liei5y3iMJU6Z0VyxQilxw7hRPH-k2pqnKSG8nwOs_ALy8gS5U4sMIBZ7cs/s320/Picture+190.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">how I looked during the climb</td></tr>
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So I survived the climb! Then we jumped in the lake and headed back to Pocahontas. I could barely move the next day - legs, arms, wrists, knees, hips, back, everything hurt. It's a total body workout. <br />
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Wednesday, the other Emily, EmLass, told me about a cool tunnel along the Greenbriar River Trail and suggested we ride down and see it. She said 10 miles. I assumed 5 each way. Oh how very wrong I was. 10 miles there, 10 miles back. This is two days after rock climbing. What in the world is wrong with me? Megan? Athletic? Are we talking about the same person? Around mile 5, we come across a bunch of cows on the trail that had somehow gotten loose. Totally bizarre. Finally at mile 10, a cross a bridge and get to the tunnel. Me being a moron, I left my camera at home. The tunnel was about 500 feet and scary as shit. You're biking too fast for your eyes to adjust and it seems as if someone has turned off the sun. Total and complete darkness. Of course we ride through it, which means we have to ride back through again to go home. But on the other side is an awesome swimming hole and rope swing. Water was a little low, but now we know where to go next summer. <br />
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Tent City has been under renovation. The schoolhouse is now insulated and has new windows. It's like it's an actual building now. They even put down boards in the bell tower and there's a table and chair up there. Not sure why someone would go hang out up there. I suppose if one of the boys is feeling pensive and wants to write some emo poetry, that would be the place to do it. The kitchen has expanded and the outhouse is almost ready. Everybody is really excited about the new shitter. I can't wait for my first poop at Tent City. <br />
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This weekend is my birthday, bitches! I have 7 people coming to celebrate with me: the three bros and their significant others and my cousin Rachel, who you may remember, was here a month and a half ago. I'm excited as hell. Friday night: First Friday in Lewisburg. Saturday: Pretty Penny, Black Mountain Bluegrass Boys, pig and lamb roast. Sunday: pond party and Tent City extravaganza. Then Monday (hopefully) I'll be heading down south to the land of the pine. Going home for a week to let my parents babysit Cody for a while and to drop off things I don't need in my new place and pick up the things I do. Heading to Athens next weekend. Partying there is prolly gonna seem pretty tame after the summer I've had. But I'm pumped about going to Walkers and tailgating Saturday morning for the UGA SCarolina game. Then back to WV and up to Elkins to start training for AmeriCorps. Crazy crazy busy these next two weeks. <br />
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I can't believe it's September. Summer is over. What a terrible, terrible thing. By far, this has been the best summer of my life. The last three and a half months have been the most fun, eye-opening, life changing, amazing months of my life. But all good things must come to an end.<br />
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Today is my last day as the intern at the Pearl S. Buck Birthplace.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4r9y3fFg8AdfpoLfoH5GACoVEGQqj4_6LWmdo99s_j5pLjJgSfJAwNaPOaF364GzF7vgqFNEc6NdCIqZk4LYW565ZVxXRLWhpSGEsBNqsPpcZ1zxVwSAyg_SVki9cFJzb70vwVqEkKeQI/s1600/Picture+165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4r9y3fFg8AdfpoLfoH5GACoVEGQqj4_6LWmdo99s_j5pLjJgSfJAwNaPOaF364GzF7vgqFNEc6NdCIqZk4LYW565ZVxXRLWhpSGEsBNqsPpcZ1zxVwSAyg_SVki9cFJzb70vwVqEkKeQI/s400/Picture+165.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-73121524870899064382011-08-26T12:59:00.001-04:002011-08-26T13:16:52.124-04:00woop woop woop<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">So where did I leave off? Oh yeah, pissing off tent city boys, otherwise known as friendship.<br />
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After ladies' night, I ventured back up to Elkins for around round of square dancing and absurdity at Augusta. Saturday was surprisingly more laid back than Thursday, but that was perfectly fine with me. Came back to next day and the weather was freaking beautiful. The bluest skies, the puffiest clouds. Perfect. A drive, and picnic, along the scenic highway was just lovely. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdyzLLNGN_cZCwLHitE-yJiGPlzB26mU588NCU70sjHpeiFjQPb_H-gFYcVaEv58JDnWgGDBVURHwFLM4aHt36tg1zEioc_N2Scl-rV4-XykYPMsgCopRlXUnFTsSnL6D3tniCSZW8nfK/s1600/Picture+114.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYdyzLLNGN_cZCwLHitE-yJiGPlzB26mU588NCU70sjHpeiFjQPb_H-gFYcVaEv58JDnWgGDBVURHwFLM4aHt36tg1zEioc_N2Scl-rV4-XykYPMsgCopRlXUnFTsSnL6D3tniCSZW8nfK/s640/Picture+114.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Last week I worked a crap ton at the restaurant. Bleh. Luckily, I just got a call that they are closing the restaurant until Labor Day weekend, because they're actually losing money by being open right now. For the holiday weekend though, all the cabins are booked up, so they'll get a lot of business. Lucky for me, I told them I was done on the 1st. So I only have to work one more day at the restaurant! Tuesday I made $7 in tips in 7 hours. Yeah...definitely not worth my time.<br />
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I've been running a lot recently. I'm sore as shit, but I feel awesome. On September 24, Marlinton is hosting the Roadkill Cookoff. It's gonna be AWESOME. In the morning there is a 5k called the Possum Trot, and you better believe I'm doing that shit. I cannot wait to wear that tshirt. It'll be my first 5k, so I'm a little worried since I'm painfully slow, but seriously, how can I pass up the Possum Trot? I plan on coming in last place.<br />
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It's become habit to just drive to Tent City when I'm bored. I think the newness of me has worn off, so the boys don't ever invite me to do anything anymore. You think that's gonna stop me from hanging out with them?! mwahahahah never! I just show up and they're never doing anything, so I guess it works out. I went there Friday after (gasp!) both Corey and Josh told me they were burning some couches. I don't know what is with these West Virginians, but they love to burn couches. I guess it's the hillbilly in them, who knows. They start a fire at Tent City, then realize that the couches are at the neighbors. What to do, what to do. Well we can't bring the couches over here. That would just be absurd. And starting a new fire? Idiotic. We should just carry the fire down the road to the couches! Genius! That's right. We carried a freaking fire pit down the road. And when I mean we, I mean I actually participated. Jesus, these boys have rubbed off on me too much. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIjM6GLI-cW58WTC1AByXZ0JTqbbUDLR6mJyjUfdlQqAzeLX6O_KV2GSDfB_Rinfm8MWZeFOY4Uj9WHUGz_CwBGZN6c9cA3cfRdfe4RPGfb1SoP1pB8w_RPtGavfMKaVmmESGab4gFhrQ/s1600/Picture+134.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIjM6GLI-cW58WTC1AByXZ0JTqbbUDLR6mJyjUfdlQqAzeLX6O_KV2GSDfB_Rinfm8MWZeFOY4Uj9WHUGz_CwBGZN6c9cA3cfRdfe4RPGfb1SoP1pB8w_RPtGavfMKaVmmESGab4gFhrQ/s400/Picture+134.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">coolest people I know...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Saturday night was a bit of a drag. After working at PSBB and the restaurant, I went home, had two sips of beer, and fell asleep on my living room floor. This whole being an adult, having two jobs, being a productive member of society thing is such a bummer. <br />
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Nothing much else going on. But here's some more pictures from Clifftop and other random pics from the last month.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMnTvgYxWrPjpJQr1dTu8prw5LXhGb21yRpx3TXpuu0KPl2i5s4tGj2ygN2fAJ_rd3Rkhx5lqN1No5b2CVX7tphGMg1-LkSMH7e0V84xOd4BD5X7ujZM_k1w_bI8Cva-ySDwDg3Kh2obp/s1600/Picture+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcMnTvgYxWrPjpJQr1dTu8prw5LXhGb21yRpx3TXpuu0KPl2i5s4tGj2ygN2fAJ_rd3Rkhx5lqN1No5b2CVX7tphGMg1-LkSMH7e0V84xOd4BD5X7ujZM_k1w_bI8Cva-ySDwDg3Kh2obp/s320/Picture+019.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">you can get this on an ice cream cake at DQ. I might do it for my birthday</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqB5ltSjOQwietOmxtbF3wg4fDD-DItlLGqfDW6jw7PlFAc3FRZosNcwC2laZOjdb7Vcc-iz-tYaiuw5BtozYfjDEQrAP3wfyzwOUfMkvpOP-g8MP-_t-02Gv1K2NbCc1jTF563nUVi5PM/s1600/Picture+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqB5ltSjOQwietOmxtbF3wg4fDD-DItlLGqfDW6jw7PlFAc3FRZosNcwC2laZOjdb7Vcc-iz-tYaiuw5BtozYfjDEQrAP3wfyzwOUfMkvpOP-g8MP-_t-02Gv1K2NbCc1jTF563nUVi5PM/s320/Picture+013.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">favorite things: breakfast and books</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvuYsDDSUG3VEdFhaIlXav2_b1H4ooQF_yeNGPRF7WMxoyYoqq8xX2YpVBH3-lnYiLb-CuANV3rk89dprcvH6LlAFZUTg8fOTeNQEZvR5-bSVQe4W5JJx0zw3Bs0hMOYWDqBjUNJTtyFP/s1600/Picture+047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlvuYsDDSUG3VEdFhaIlXav2_b1H4ooQF_yeNGPRF7WMxoyYoqq8xX2YpVBH3-lnYiLb-CuANV3rk89dprcvH6LlAFZUTg8fOTeNQEZvR5-bSVQe4W5JJx0zw3Bs0hMOYWDqBjUNJTtyFP/s320/Picture+047.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">typical Clifftop dweller</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZ3eMM83oe8MjnzlZ0m8-6WZkpeKsTFeIBdIhWoxxnWtl1t6OxCakbx8DlDfBP7G_UQ-Aj3N3QgO9nbhOTYkOSH4cwd4r23DWYEQbOBTF3ovYJEdD2R33L93qCgio6Py9pYurkIRjxFio/s1600/Picture+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZ3eMM83oe8MjnzlZ0m8-6WZkpeKsTFeIBdIhWoxxnWtl1t6OxCakbx8DlDfBP7G_UQ-Aj3N3QgO9nbhOTYkOSH4cwd4r23DWYEQbOBTF3ovYJEdD2R33L93qCgio6Py9pYurkIRjxFio/s320/Picture+040.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hoopin' was such a hit</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicAYthLfXujlJPHyb10M9t8fBLjSp1gJorh6Xi8crj1O46Zr2J6jD_qwlI_l0EF1GNRtl4KjkQMRbR1qOzqXUkL2YylsScvIkL5s03QmXoZa8NK-34i7ydodzTpF9dA-CHduIxiE-5eS7/s1600/Picture+060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicAYthLfXujlJPHyb10M9t8fBLjSp1gJorh6Xi8crj1O46Zr2J6jD_qwlI_l0EF1GNRtl4KjkQMRbR1qOzqXUkL2YylsScvIkL5s03QmXoZa8NK-34i7ydodzTpF9dA-CHduIxiE-5eS7/s400/Picture+060.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyUbsoicCYxya16ZyNwInPVv8KVsfUoibbqOV05aSmo9ovsx7SXdvmcxqO4oF_lQL329gNXSXL5pYUrzDGFY9lHgRacyQpvcSRfAB31xR69uJ7lCOhNk2PIvVMYWIF84X_2KW1PJwh_gl/s1600/Picture+055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyUbsoicCYxya16ZyNwInPVv8KVsfUoibbqOV05aSmo9ovsx7SXdvmcxqO4oF_lQL329gNXSXL5pYUrzDGFY9lHgRacyQpvcSRfAB31xR69uJ7lCOhNk2PIvVMYWIF84X_2KW1PJwh_gl/s320/Picture+055.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">swimming hole at clifftop. pictures don't do it justice</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSQyNjEhNW8rlpq-NGV5NlRVxSTYkz9b3JgE3WX75QFGnl_2exrs_YAE6iaN0sx0_qn-vwaejIDCYehSPqUyMeoW3PYIjIivq13gr6nT3z1GMinJH1i_OB-HcMMzNSOac-G9q5nQYvilD/s1600/Picture+107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGSQyNjEhNW8rlpq-NGV5NlRVxSTYkz9b3JgE3WX75QFGnl_2exrs_YAE6iaN0sx0_qn-vwaejIDCYehSPqUyMeoW3PYIjIivq13gr6nT3z1GMinJH1i_OB-HcMMzNSOac-G9q5nQYvilD/s400/Picture+107.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we caught a groundhog at the PSBB garden. it had a heart attack in the cage and died :(</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EeEGrpR1JWe9uy8CovWtjn_5Ss4MKRaKdX8Xs6ITR1kQY9AWaiqJK0UjHSRkzTidgh_IonMlABxmM-jJTB00MyPbAK_9AVrJJJbCQjvNb9JvmS2wVvN4O3mXDzKOxE6N2TfO0Z7BUUSs/s1600/Picture+131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2EeEGrpR1JWe9uy8CovWtjn_5Ss4MKRaKdX8Xs6ITR1kQY9AWaiqJK0UjHSRkzTidgh_IonMlABxmM-jJTB00MyPbAK_9AVrJJJbCQjvNb9JvmS2wVvN4O3mXDzKOxE6N2TfO0Z7BUUSs/s320/Picture+131.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fuck dudes. I buy this shit for myself. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQyUzMNAB72sI-V5_fYQw_alJwCEfBCaiwi7qg4EigjvhoOiHS0V3pALqSzb0fnkrHWJN9TJHaT6Q2CUHaWNSaj1dkVrR8I9mWNjA8n2KwAa-d-sRwvuQHWQ5eD6Y5fVmsHoC1Ffd6UGH/s1600/Picture+141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQyUzMNAB72sI-V5_fYQw_alJwCEfBCaiwi7qg4EigjvhoOiHS0V3pALqSzb0fnkrHWJN9TJHaT6Q2CUHaWNSaj1dkVrR8I9mWNjA8n2KwAa-d-sRwvuQHWQ5eD6Y5fVmsHoC1Ffd6UGH/s400/Picture+141.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">no, they did not pose for this picture. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-HbUlXuzotVNR4M8udgQ4g3ozaOjPul23r96Gmxk7g5RzDWkyXJlt9YV6UNn9j-xEeBi_W-UXmjBSCtPx8C3EOF1vXuH9jO8niE3OzjjsKaVVB6weNnBnUUVpkrXbEwkMEPVheHTaNTm/s1600/Picture+146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-HbUlXuzotVNR4M8udgQ4g3ozaOjPul23r96Gmxk7g5RzDWkyXJlt9YV6UNn9j-xEeBi_W-UXmjBSCtPx8C3EOF1vXuH9jO8niE3OzjjsKaVVB6weNnBnUUVpkrXbEwkMEPVheHTaNTm/s320/Picture+146.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Droop Mountain Tunnel, along the Greenbriar River Trail. It's creepy as hell.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqdEpb9kLYy31MH7Ej5Qhn2_1EInRzqMC3ekpG42p3ShdZ0gaxsXp0IpdX3DwWWtBFWk18tQRK2CZNVKtfX9d_uH-cy-169OYYCoDQ9VZ-a0g9Vm3ao9nGqRrglqGjZWflCu4VqaVqWg9/s1600/Picture+150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqdEpb9kLYy31MH7Ej5Qhn2_1EInRzqMC3ekpG42p3ShdZ0gaxsXp0IpdX3DwWWtBFWk18tQRK2CZNVKtfX9d_uH-cy-169OYYCoDQ9VZ-a0g9Vm3ao9nGqRrglqGjZWflCu4VqaVqWg9/s320/Picture+150.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">silly pup. his form of swimming is laying down in the water.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-PKUBixNnBu8_5Nmc1tC2-AHnTsAEOY3TEKdYrQIUNq-nk2VhZqBAZjpHHKLoGDvu_ro9TrAaajzL4ZYJrnP0WowEPcnf9VAf-PePPplVcDzyz-uTCY222CvSmyAIb4NfcYp2JuauNk1/s1600/Picture+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK-PKUBixNnBu8_5Nmc1tC2-AHnTsAEOY3TEKdYrQIUNq-nk2VhZqBAZjpHHKLoGDvu_ro9TrAaajzL4ZYJrnP0WowEPcnf9VAf-PePPplVcDzyz-uTCY222CvSmyAIb4NfcYp2JuauNk1/s320/Picture+012.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this crazy asshole tried to get into my house<br />
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<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I believe that I forgot to mention the greatest story of all time. Or at least of Clifftop. Saturday night. scratch that. Sunday morning. 6AM. Still haven't gone to sleep yet. People are slowly getting up and packing their things to leave. Except our group, who has been frying catfish, drinking beer, and playing music all morning. This dude with a red fiddle has been with us most of the evening. We should have known that with a red fiddle, this dude was the devil, but we were oblivious. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAQMLztc0NtKw0kqS41ZJQRfK-yMsomiPz0SuYlDWJCu1kr5ILKj4hbRMp2iH1IyVp7Tst4DmLegj-M2pJnYbfR0kpBGgYI4oO6UEvHqYVVNSwLh2pXzPbIMwGcmcFHy7-PoNt4kt5oog/s1600/Picture+097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBAQMLztc0NtKw0kqS41ZJQRfK-yMsomiPz0SuYlDWJCu1kr5ILKj4hbRMp2iH1IyVp7Tst4DmLegj-M2pJnYbfR0kpBGgYI4oO6UEvHqYVVNSwLh2pXzPbIMwGcmcFHy7-PoNt4kt5oog/s320/Picture+097.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He realizes it's Sunday morning and suggests we have a gospel preacher jam. Everyone is into it. It's funny, and ironic. Josh starts a little diddle on his guitar and Red Fiddle Devil Man starts preaching some story from the bible. Well he gets going and going and he starts getting into it and getting louder. The Holy Spirit is filling him up with the word of God! As he gets louder, Josh is forced to get louder on the guitar. He gets to yelling about some dude with eleven brothers. Clay is totally eating this up and he starts yelling too. Red Fiddle: "He had eleven brothers!" Clay: "HOW MANY BROTHAS!!" Josh jamming harder than ever. Everyone laughing. Pause. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Some dude sticks his head around the Corey Mobile. "Ummmm excuse me. It's 7 AM. People are trying to sleep and you guys have been pretty loud for a while. Maybe you could keep it down until like....9 or 10. Try to be courteous to your neighbors." (aka Shut. The fuck. Up. we've all been drinking for 36 straight hours and we're hungover and pissed as hell) Red Fiddle Devil Man responds with "You can't quiet the word of God!" or some shit but the rest of us feel bad and eventually the Devil leaves, as does everyone else because now its 730 and its time for bed. So, blog readers, if you ever get really excited about something, just yell "HOW MANY BROTHAS!" We're gonna start a trend. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(PS this story is much more effective in person when I can actually yell these things as loud as they actually were. Ask me to tell you this story next time you see me.)</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Another story I forgot. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">After Clifftop, I decided maybe I should take a break from the boys and socializing and drinking. HA! good one. The day after leaving Clifftop, there was a concert at the Schoolhouse. I usually like the bands that come through there, and they're pretty laid back so no crazy partying. I didn't know anything about the band except their name - <a href="http://www.myspace.com/thelittlecountrygiants">Little Country Giants</a>. I pull in the parking lot and there are a couple people I don't know standing around. After seeing my car, they walk over and ask who's from GA? I tell them I'm from the Albany area. "We're from GA. And we have a song about Albany."</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">No. Shit. And guess we're they're from. Athens. We got into a big discussion about the reopening of the GA Theater and talked about our favorite bars. Blah blah blah. Awesomeness. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lately I had been feeling really homesick. I didn't feel like the boys wanted me around and I was missing my college friends like no other. I also just wanted to be able to hang out on my couch and chill out with my parents. So it was a wonderful surprise to show up to the Schoolhouse and have a little dose of Georgia. It could not have been a more pleasant evening. </span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-23160009044065586372011-08-20T15:38:00.000-04:002011-08-20T15:38:38.311-04:00back in the saddleHello strangers! I haven't posted in quite awhile. I assure you, I am alive and well, just super busy. I started a couple of posts last week and the week before, but I realized that I was just bitching and ranting about random crap and that is not the purpose of the blog. Emotions and feelings and blah blah blah, whine whine whine. The purpose is to entertain you with my adventures and hopefully, possibly, maybe not make you laugh. <br />
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I've been hella busy lately. I got a second job, like other than the AmeriCorps job. I'm working at the Pretty Penny in Watoga State Park. I told Blair, the owner, the first day that I moved here that I would be willing to work for her. 3 months later she calls me up. And the restaurant closes on Labor Day, so I'm only working a couple weeks. For those of you who knew me during my Harvest Moon days, or even my UGA Food Services days, I said I would never work as a waitress or do anything in the food industry again. HA. Life's a bitch. It's not a terrible job and I'm making extra money, so all is well.<br />
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The first weekend in August was the Appalachian String Band Festival, also known as <a href="http://www.wvculture.org/stringband/">Clifftop.</a> I had heard about this music festival since I first moved here. Everyone kept saying it was the highlight of the summer. I went Friday - Sunday and slept about 6 hours. Friday night went to bed at 6 AM, Saturday 730. Needless to say, it lived up to the hype. It takes place in a state park, so everyone is camping out in tents. Of course the Coreymobile was there surrounded by tailgating tents. We had a whole compound of Pocahontas County people. Different areas of the camp had different types of music. Bluegrass, old timey, traditional, non-traditional, and my personal favorite - cajun. The cajun tent was definitely the place to be - awesome music, everyone dancing, fresh beignets. Friday night was the night of a million vests. Not really sure how it happened, but we had a festival of vests. A vestival if you will. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXf93f_G1Pf1IWMT315ug9DqUpe4oRP0Xuk6SQ513AsTFaModW2z2VC-l2qZ41mjcHSeDcllnPUSIdIdAxtTqTV3O5hgZ_lU_GT84MOAbhty0XNzsWnNfYKfglEIdG83r_Adc5ExtJpXjL/s1600/Picture+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXf93f_G1Pf1IWMT315ug9DqUpe4oRP0Xuk6SQ513AsTFaModW2z2VC-l2qZ41mjcHSeDcllnPUSIdIdAxtTqTV3O5hgZ_lU_GT84MOAbhty0XNzsWnNfYKfglEIdG83r_Adc5ExtJpXjL/s320/Picture+031.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">gasp! I'm actually smiling! Must be the vest that's making me so happy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFMFEatLpilsiRR3IZOpXy06X3A9wNpTKBP4u3KV0G5uIV6pkqN1wG3gXqH9gHF8OZz8ArgSF65PP7lxF2aQVdzyp25O2RHglk353pO32QnYt8FKLuUOKMCvrhY25TBgouG5ygo0g0bq/s1600/Picture+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPCFMFEatLpilsiRR3IZOpXy06X3A9wNpTKBP4u3KV0G5uIV6pkqN1wG3gXqH9gHF8OZz8ArgSF65PP7lxF2aQVdzyp25O2RHglk353pO32QnYt8FKLuUOKMCvrhY25TBgouG5ygo0g0bq/s320/Picture+027.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andrew and Clay were having their own leather vestival.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I got to jam on the mandolin for a couple of songs and it was totally kick ass. Everywhere you turned, there were people jamming out. People were still playing at 6AM when I went to bed. It's hard to describe the overwhelming amount of music that is played at Clifftop. To burn off all the beers we drank, we started hoopin'. And awesome pictures ensued.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHqaL9SphXZFvLp7QVwxUHQ2EarkCdzIvRHlwEU3vbR3lMHsOb66t5FYHxHLpNYOJShHNyG8HJWEGGpakLW3FHgwF_ht6sUz8h44zlw5YECwT8Mv4CNuKPZi-E76VU7f_XO0dJsLU-JnB/s1600/Picture+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPHqaL9SphXZFvLp7QVwxUHQ2EarkCdzIvRHlwEU3vbR3lMHsOb66t5FYHxHLpNYOJShHNyG8HJWEGGpakLW3FHgwF_ht6sUz8h44zlw5YECwT8Mv4CNuKPZi-E76VU7f_XO0dJsLU-JnB/s320/Picture+035.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3WRn-2LZwJHn3KoqZukrscLMzYFbczzkQEfE06BnIDv_Xxd1iFgMZiqiz6w1SQA48Md9yfHcj7dv4ChZCIm99qY8OpPjDo15j4K4WpXy551hQxaR30gZoRculNUNp36TWjcaptokyn1G/s1600/Picture+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS3WRn-2LZwJHn3KoqZukrscLMzYFbczzkQEfE06BnIDv_Xxd1iFgMZiqiz6w1SQA48Md9yfHcj7dv4ChZCIm99qY8OpPjDo15j4K4WpXy551hQxaR30gZoRculNUNp36TWjcaptokyn1G/s320/Picture+033.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Try not to look awkward in a hoopin picture. It's impossible. <br />
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Of course there was square dancing and a flat footing competition. More music. More beer. Less sleep. The festival lasts a week. I don't know how people do it. This was two weeks ago and I'm still trying to catch up on sleep. <br />
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There's another festival called Augusta that takes place in Elkins, on the campus of Davis and Elkins College. It lasts all summer and there are classes each week that focus on different types of music. <a href="http://www.augustaheritage.com/">http://www.augustaheritage.com/</a> Bluegrass week, celtic week, cajun week, swing week, dance week. Anything and everything. And last week was the big finale week. I went on Thursday night, not knowing what to expect, and I was completely blown away. Every night they have a concert and on Thursday there was a bad ass fiddler and at the very end were group of flat footers. Watch <a href="http://www.nicgareiss.com/Media.html">this guy's videos. </a> He's awesome in ways that I didn't know existed. It made me miss dance a lot. I can't wait to move to Lewisburg and talk to the dance studio down there so I can start dancing again.<br />
After the concert, I went into the chapel to see/hear/feel the crystal meditation bowls. Sounds weird as shit right? Right. Here's a video to help explain: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMWgmV-w6SE&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMWgmV-</a>w6SE&feature=related<br />
In the chapel they had about 6 different bowls and anyone could go up and use them. It was mesmerizing. I sat in the back, but the reverberation and sounds just pulled me in. I had no concept of time or space. It was totally bizarre and awesome in every way.<br />
After coming back to reality, I swung over the to square dance. Personally, I don't much like square dancing. I'm really bad at it and you have to interact with other people, which as you know really annoys me. But people don't normally let you just sit on the sidelines and watch, so I got roped into a couple dances. I think watching square dances is way more fun. <br />
<br />
Friday night, I decided to have a ladies' night at Tent City. I got wind that the boys wouldn't be there, so it was perfect timing. We went swimming in the pond, cooked up some burgers on the fire pit, drank lotsa beer, and crashed in the luxury tent (have I mentioned Josh's tent has carpet?). It was quite a lovely evening. I usually get along better with dudes, but every so often I need an injection of some estrogen. I can only take so much of the boys before I want to get some pruning shears and start cutting off some appendages. The boys heard about my little party later and they were a little less than enthused. But since one of my favorite past times is to piss people off, I just laughed in their faces. <br />
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Well, I'm tired of typing, but I still haven't caught up to present day. More to come soon. I've been informed that the Tent City boys have begun to read this. To that, I say bugger off! I will make you regret this decision! To the rest of you, I hope all is well!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-87901501492050512732011-07-30T14:23:00.000-04:002011-07-30T14:23:55.663-04:00Where is America's coolest small town?<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I believe that some people come into our lives to challenge us, or as I like to put it, piss </span>us off. <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I understand that not everyone has an true appreciation for Pearl Buck, </span>but you gotta give the lady credit: she won the Pulitzer Prize and the Nobel Prize for Christ's sake. It's kinda a big deal. Today a woman came into the museum with her two children, and I was excited to teach them about Pearl and the house and all the over crap I talk about on the tour. They had a different agenda. The kids (old enough to understand rules, but just too dumb to follow them) kept going behind barriers, opening doors they weren't supposed to, touching freaking everything. No, you can't sit on that couch. No, you can't go in the attic. No, you can't touch that dress. Bad kids? Whatever. I can handle that. I don't like kids anyways, so it doesn't bother me. I expected the mom to be of some intelligence. Wrong. I love to tell people that Pearl has three museums in her honor: the birthplace, one in PA (where she lived when she moved back to the states), and her childhood home in China. I think that's pretty cool. Pearl was such a bad ass that she has three museums! That's a big deal! This woman though was quite confused. <br />
Ignorant tourist: "Well, what did she do?" <br />
Smart, beautiful, charming tour guide: "I'm sorry. What do you mean?"<br />
Tourist: "Why three museums?"<br />
Guide: "Pearl was the first American woman to win both the Pulitzer Prize and the Nobel Prize."<br />
Tourist: "Yeah, but I mean, what did she do? Is that all? She just won some awards and that's how she got famous?"<br />
Guide: *to herself* Yes you moron! She won the freaking Pulitzer and Nobel Prizes. That's a big freaking deal, you ignorant moron! I don't see you with any awards for anything you've written! Try and win the freaking Nobel Prize. Come on, do it! Let's see how that goes. *to tourist* "Well she also did a lot of humanitarian work, such as starting the first international, interracial adoption agency, as well as raising funds for Asian women who bore the children of American servicemen."<br />
Tourist: "Oh, well, I guess that's important."<br />
Like I said, some people are sent into our lives to just piss us off. <br />
<br />
In other news, I've been offered a real life, honest to goodness, adult job! Okay, not really. It's only AmeriCorps, so it's not a real adult job, but a job nonetheless! It's a way of putting off the real world for a while, til next August to be exact. Sure I could make more money being a substitute bus driver for the county school system or cleaning toilets at a hotel part time, but I think it's worth it. It's another museum job and that's what I want to do. I didn't have any idea that I would be applying to AmeriCorps, or that I would want to stay in West Virginia, but this position is exactly what I want to be doing right now. I have yet to formally accept the position. I need to talk with my current boss to figure out when I can leave Pearl Buck and move to Lewisburg, but it will be sometime in late September, early October. Speaking of Lewisburg, did you know...<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTjviF3aPu6LWx1ExqBh1-kBBjrdVUMKyrdq8C2ptDcAH6QCz9t_9OlhSdG2UhHlM_1hnK5lY_RJq-coxq0LOfB2zD74Y5WnoJBkk_vnxv3IhZ89eFkf6b2j22jw6kzpSEHJHGykV8kzk/s1600/Picture+095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvTjviF3aPu6LWx1ExqBh1-kBBjrdVUMKyrdq8C2ptDcAH6QCz9t_9OlhSdG2UhHlM_1hnK5lY_RJq-coxq0LOfB2zD74Y5WnoJBkk_vnxv3IhZ89eFkf6b2j22jw6kzpSEHJHGykV8kzk/s320/Picture+095.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FACT</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="http://www.budgettravel.com/bt-srv/coolestsmalltowns/CST2011.html">No it is a fact: Budget Travel magazine said so.</a><br />
<br />
That's right. I'm gonna be living in America's coolest small town.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-6156170587248084482011-07-29T15:26:00.002-04:002011-07-29T15:34:43.869-04:00vacation from my vacation lifeI hadn't left West Virginia in two months. Come to think of it, I hadn't left Pocahontas County in two months, other than going to Lewisburg and Richwood. It was time for a break. It was time for C-bus.<br />
All three of my bros live in Columbus, Ohio. Well Justin lives outside the city, but close enough. As I was crossing the state line, I was a little bummed out. I didn't think I would miss West Virginia, but I did. I was excited to see my bros and see the city and see civilization and see new people, but at the same time, I felt that I was leaving part of me behind.<br />
Enough of that. Garrick made some ribs and they were freaking awesome. Then we watched Conan the Barbarian. And let me say, if you haven't seen it, freaking DO IT. It will change your life. Conan, what is best in life?<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://therumpus.net/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/conan-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="203" src="http://therumpus.net/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/conan-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Saturday, I went to the farmers market in Clintonville, which is just north of Ohio State campus. It was pretty cool. Much different than the Marlinton farmers market.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaedBHvFnaiWdBA7GOVlAGHcz2Jb6uZDE6iOcAS-6Lo4S1e87E7eDOc18B45Q20VbzoJJZCLZQ9gXhn5ki8xtbwu4eeVcVa4vYe3MAfcQX2RjbgbArHHeVNL5lpPi3qLqhLK9PdKyH710a/s1600/Picture+112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaedBHvFnaiWdBA7GOVlAGHcz2Jb6uZDE6iOcAS-6Lo4S1e87E7eDOc18B45Q20VbzoJJZCLZQ9gXhn5ki8xtbwu4eeVcVa4vYe3MAfcQX2RjbgbArHHeVNL5lpPi3qLqhLK9PdKyH710a/s320/Picture+112.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I visited a music shop, thinking I would buy a mandolin book if they had one. They did, but the beginner books were for people who were beginning music altogether. This is a musical note looks like. Scales have eight notes. This is what a treble clef is. I don't need that crap. I've had 7 years of clarinet and a bunch of years of piano. I know what I'm doing. They had some used mandolins for sale and they were pretty sweet. Cheapest one was 80. Next time I'm in C-bus, I'm getting it. We went to another music store that seemed like it was more my style.<br />
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They had a pink mandolin. No joke. I could be Bluegrass Barbie for Halloween.<br />
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Saturday night Justin came over with his violin and tin whistle and we had the first official Ramsey jam session. Justin on violin, Zachary on guitar, me on mandolin. Garrick's guitar has a broken string, but I'm thinking he needs to pick up the banjo or the bass anyways. The only thing we could play was Wagon Wheel, but it still sounded pretty sweet. I was so excited about it, I couldn't keep from laughing while we were playing. Afterwards, we walked to a bar called the Blue Danube, which everybody calls "The Dube." Which reminds me of "The Dupe" for those of you who know what that is. We got dinner and some brews there and then headed to O'Reileys, which is around the corner from my bro's apartment. My bros are to this bar what I used to be to Walkers in Athens. Turns out this bar blooooows. They installed a new jukebox and this skank played 3 Justin Timberlake songs in a row and then searched for Black Eyed Peas. Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy crappy music like that every once in a while. But this is not that type of bar. This is a bar like Walkers, or the bar on Cheers. You aint there to dance and be skanky. You're there to drink and hang out with the regulars. I was highly disappointed by this bar.<br />
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Sunday we took Justin's sailboat out at Alum Creek. I thought I was gonna be the 7th wheel. Oh what fun! Hanging out with my bros and their significant others. WOO! I totally drove 6 hours to be reminded that I'm single! Thankfully (although I admit, I was bummed out) my sister in law didn't come and one of the girlfriends only came for half the day. It wasn't very windy, so no sailing, but we anchored the boat near the beach, and hung out for a couple hours. Grilled some sausages, played some frisbee, tossed the football around, drank some brews, got sunburnt. You know, the norm. And for dinner, Mandy made some fancy ass meal in her fancy ass apartment. It was as if I stepped into a Pottery Barn magazine. I didn't want to touch anything. It was like a cool hipster museum. At first I wished my place looked like that. But then I wouldn't be able to hang up my favorite poster.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaNUc07Lzw6UQZ1XXa1RC6YMBh7Swj_Jt0nFFd9er15Qvukhj8RD6VWu-4g0wgel976cxNndxYnTAO4r-oBteymhOv8x9htgnqn3PrwZxPB909JHaPQKnjDBW3ylyzAKj6SvGNLw2rvqh/s1600/zac+hanson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHaNUc07Lzw6UQZ1XXa1RC6YMBh7Swj_Jt0nFFd9er15Qvukhj8RD6VWu-4g0wgel976cxNndxYnTAO4r-oBteymhOv8x9htgnqn3PrwZxPB909JHaPQKnjDBW3ylyzAKj6SvGNLw2rvqh/s320/zac+hanson.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I looked like him when I was 10. Same buttcut hair. Same gap tooth.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I stayed an extra day so I could hang out in civilization a bit longer, but everyone had to work on Monday, so I had to fend for myself. I took Cody for a walk along the Olentangy River Trail and man was it different than the Greenbriar River Trail. I'm used to saying hello to people on the trail, even striking up a convo, or at least smiling at the people who pass me, and everybody in return is friendly and pleasant back to me. Well let me tell ya, the city's a bit different. People literally scowled at me. I said hello and people thought I was some weird homeless person who's gonna ask them for money. Attention city folk: it's okay to smile. I promise, it aint gonna hurt ya. It was time to get out of the city. So I headed to the 'burbs. I hadn't seen my sister in law all weekend so I headed to Justin's house for dinner. Their dog Luna was not a fan of Cody. So much so that she ripped some of his hair out. What a bitch. Literally.<br />
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Tuesday I had planned to do some actual sight seeing. Which is rare for me when I'm on a road trip. I have the Ramsey mentality of driving as quickly as possible to reach my destination. No stopping for lunch, if you have to pee you better hold it, and you only get gas when you absolutely have to. So on the way back to WV I thought I'd try something new. Leaving Justin's, I thought I'd find a coffee shop in my GPS. It took me to the ghetto of Columbus. No joke. This place was called Urban Spirit Coffee. I should have known that is would <i>urban</i>. Needless to say, I kept driving. I tried to find another one. No luck. Whatever. F it. No coffee or breakfast for me today.<br />
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I did find one thing I was looking for: I stopped at Hocking Hills State Park. The bros told me that Old Man's Cave was super cool and it was not too far off 33, on the way to WV. It was only 10:30 when I got there, but it was already really busy. I had already had my fill of people for the weekend, especially these impolite city/Ohio folk, but I trucked on through and found what I was looking for. Pictures cannot grasp who cool this place was. If you are ever in or near southeast Ohio, go there. Totally worth it. I felt like Indiana Jones. It was great.<br />
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After Old Man's Cave, I wanted to see Ohio University campus, located in Athens, Ohio. I've heard great things about Athens. I mean, with a name like Athens, it's gotta be good. And it was! Very cute little town. Like Athens, GA, but about a quarter of the size. I figured I could find a cool coffee shop there. And I did. The thing I couldn't find was a freaking parking spot. PISSED. By then it was 1 oclock and I hadn't eaten anything at all yet and I was irritable and hungry and cranky and I wanted to eat but stupid people and their stupid lives got in my way. So I just kept driving. After crossing the state line, I found a Wendy's and the girl charged me for a combo and I only got a sandwich. PISSED. Yes, I could have called her out and made her give me my money back or give me some fries, but at this point I was so hungry that Cody's dog treats looked appetizing. So I paid $8 for a sandwich and a coke. At this point, I realized how much I had missed the little third world country that is Hillsboro. No fast food. No stop lights. No traffic. Sounds like heaven.<br />
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You should check out <a href="http://billyandbethanne.blogspot.com/">Billy and Bethanne's blog</a>. They're pretty entertaining people. Their blog has been sending me readers, so imma send them some.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-71958089463294020972011-07-22T13:03:00.001-04:002011-07-28T13:00:05.529-04:00IntensityI learned two songs on the mandolin, and possibly a third. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gX1EP6mG-E&ob=av2e">Wagon Wheel, by Old Crow Medicine Show</a> is the first one. And pretty much everyone who can play an instrument can play Wagon Wheel. And people around here hate playing it because it's been overdone and people think that it's "bluegrass", so it's usually frowned upon in these parts. The other song is <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7w6P6M8MFlw&feature=related">Helpless by Neil Young</a>. Which is a bad ass song. But really I like it because it's the same three chords over and over again (Billy, you could play this song!). <br />
<br />
Tuesday was yet another concert at the Schoolhouse in Mill Point. The band, Sounds like Leland, were from Austin. They had a pretty laid back sound, and the members were really cool. Before the concert, we had a pot luck. Being poor, I didn't have anything to contribute, but I definitely participated in eating. So much hippie food. Gluten free chili, pesto pizza, fresh greens, cucumber salad, and Old Mil beer. Good times. After the show, we headed to our favorite swimmin' hole for <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahJ6Kh8klM4&ob=av3n">some of this.</a> Then we listened to some tunes around a campfire. I mean come on, how freaking cliche can we get? It's like I'm living in a movie about the joys of summer. It's actually pretty silly sometimes.<br />
<br />
It's been too freaking hot lately. I thought I left southwest Georgia! Freaking 90 degrees all week. I almost wish I was back in GA because at least they have AC down there. Up here, you gotta fend for yourself. Just get used to people smelling by noon, because that shower you took this morning isn't gonna keep you clean through this humidity. And the river is getting all scummy and shit because it's been so hot and not a lot of rain fall. Bathing in the river is actually really counterproductive now because you soap up and rinse off and there's a big piece of scum on your arm. So during the day, I try to think of things to get my outside because the trailer is like a freaking oven. Cody's is having a hard time. In GA, he could escape the heat by going inside in the AC, but here he's constantly panting and sweating and quite miserable. We still go on a run about everyday, but it takes him about two hours to get his breathing back to normal. I need to get him shaved again. <br />
<br />
So during the Schoolhouse concert on Tuesday, Clay showed up all excited because he found some fresh roadkill. I'm not even kidding. He stopped on the side of the road and cut up this deer to bring home and cook. I'm not even kidding. He said that muscles were still twitching. I'm not even kidding. I thought he was kidding at first. He was not. Wednesday, they cooked it up at Tent City and it was delicious. I'm not even kidding. I'm surprised that I even ate it, but I was happy that I did. We had a feast over there with that meat and I brought some Vidalia onions and there were potatoes and peppers and all kinds of stuff. It was easily one of the best meals I've had in WV. <br />
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So some of my friends are in this "rock" band called Power. Ridiculous, I know. I haven't had the pleasure of hearing them play yet, but I'm pretty sure with a name like Power, it's gonna be entertaining. Well the Tent City boys keep making all these plans to get songs together and travel the country and actually be a legit band. Yeah right, and I wanna be a princess when I grow up. So they were trying to come up with names. I like the Tent City Boys, personally. Another name was Schoolhouse Revival, in regards to the Schoolhouse in Mill Point and also the one at Tent City. Then someone threw out "Intensity," as a pun on Tent City, and I about lost it. I thought that was the greatest thing ever. So be on the lookout in your town for the bands Power and Intensity, because it's gonna happen. I've already been given the role of merchandise girl. Oh joy. <br />
<br />
I'm going away for the weekend, and that's prolly a good thing because my fridge is empty. It looks like I just moved in. Literally all I have in my fridge is a package of cream cheese (I know, I can't believe I haven't eaten it yet either!), some homemade strawberry jam, and about 4 ounces of off brand Sprite that's been sitting in there for almost two months. The AmeriCorps kids have told me to get food stamps. With such a small stipend, AmeriCorps actually encourages their members to get food stamps. And since it's a stipend and not an actual wage, to the government, it's as if these kids don't make any money. So they get a good sum of food stamps each month and they're encouraging me to do the same. Growing up in white, middle class, semi-suburban America, I think there's a stigma to receiving food stamps. I mean, I'm not that poor and there are other people that are more deserving. But someone brought to my attention that you can buy anything with food stamps that has nutrition facts, including candy and pop. And a lot of people do that, which is silly. That same person also brought to my attention that the farmer's market in Marlinton accepts food stamps and you can take federal dollars and buy local food. And a lot of people around here do that, which is kick ass. So, middle class stigma, bugger off - I'm getting food stamps.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisFv4vFuuOAiUazhi_Qc108R9bX4o3sZV5GfLcFpAh8EWm5jCQcFKapzzeRWYJRMvBUkdsbGJQsJzVKAkWhK8c7CCi0IDpagbGQMWueGYyltlf8_KOBFlAyyPOqstuYpXNs6TtftkBd5E/s1600/Picture+062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisFv4vFuuOAiUazhi_Qc108R9bX4o3sZV5GfLcFpAh8EWm5jCQcFKapzzeRWYJRMvBUkdsbGJQsJzVKAkWhK8c7CCi0IDpagbGQMWueGYyltlf8_KOBFlAyyPOqstuYpXNs6TtftkBd5E/s640/Picture+062.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, what up, beautiful sunset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-13146273775489987122011-07-19T11:54:00.003-04:002011-07-21T10:23:33.609-04:00another visitor, another adventure<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Another visitor, another adventure. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">But we’ll get to that in a moment. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve made it a habit to go running or biking along the River Trail almost everyday, and I almost always go to the same spot: Burnside. It’s fairly remote: no houses or people along the trail, and there is a great swimming hole so I can take a bath after my run. And very often after I finish my run, there is someone I know at the swimming hole. So it’s kinda the afternoon hang out for everyone. Friday afternoon, my friends Joe and Tyler were swimming, so Cody and I decided to join them. Well, I got in but Cody not so much. The first time I took him to the river he was a total baby about it, but this time he was a little more adventurous. I must be rubbing off on him. He got in up to his chest, but panicked when he couldn’t touch the bottom anymore. This is a dog that doesn’t know how to swim. Um, hello?! Doggy paddle, you moron. We’ll work on it. Who woulda thought you had to teach a dog to doggy paddle. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Anyways, Joe and Tyler work at the Gesundheit! Institute, constructing a new building. They told me Patch Adams was in town and they were all eating at the Café in town, so I stopped in because I wanted to see the real Patch. Of course because of the movie, I’m expecting Robin Williams. That could not be farther from the truth. Picture this: 6 foot 6 inch Gandolf the Grey (or for you silly Harry Potter people: Dumbledore) wearing MC Hammer pants and a purple polka dot shirt. And now you have the real Patch Adams. Yep. He dresses like a clown ALL THE TIME. Hi-freaking-larious. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The boys invited me back to the Institute for a bonfire. But I knew that there had been a clown camp there for the past couple weeks. I’m not big on clowns, first of all, but people that actually <i>want</i> to be clowns freak me out even more. But I thought, what the hell, why not - as I often do these days. Well, the clown people were actually really entertaining. One dude who had a massive beer belly was wearing a sweet leopard print leotard. One kid starting dancing to some kind of music in his head. Then two girls starting singing David Bowie songs to each other. There was also a group of women there from Montreal, and many of them didn’t speak English, so there was lots of French being yelled. It was, quite literally, a circus. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My cousin, Rachel from Pittsburgh, came on Saturday. When she got here we went into Marlinton and it was a ghost town. Seriously. What kind of small town is dead on a Saturday afternoon? Apparently Marlinton is. We stopped at the coffee shop before deciding to go on a hike near the Cranberry Glades. We didn’t hike too far, but of course it was amazingly pretty and we found the perfect place for an afternoon picnic near a waterfall. Unfortunately we didn’t bring snacks or anything, so we’ll plan better for next time. We ate dinner at the Pretty Penny. We got there just before a bunch of large parties came in, so we got our food surprisingly fast. I knew that al my friends were going to the Opera House in Marlinton for a concert. The Veveritse Brass Band was playing. I had no idea what to expect from this band, but they freaking blew me away. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDE9tsr0K7JKTpEaJkLNmVeQldb9sZGCuyLEOcG7sezJ38iIM2CfoWeLhOvDo4PVdg040wTNdhCvlpJe1XBu51lOXHsOBZ4P85ebfw0Dvdd8r4lL8PJuR4Y2-RwdplRu3WSqHSlovzXFD/s1600/Picture+075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIDE9tsr0K7JKTpEaJkLNmVeQldb9sZGCuyLEOcG7sezJ38iIM2CfoWeLhOvDo4PVdg040wTNdhCvlpJe1XBu51lOXHsOBZ4P85ebfw0Dvdd8r4lL8PJuR4Y2-RwdplRu3WSqHSlovzXFD/s320/Picture+075.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">They definitely had a gypsy sound to them and I loved it. After intermission, a lot of people got up and were dancing to the music, but I’m not much of a dancer, and neither is Rachel. Besides, I think it’s much better to be a spectator of the dancing. At one point, people were just stomping on the floor and I thought they were river dancing. One of the band members taught the group a dance that led them throughout the whole House and it was really entertaining to watch people who don’t understand how to dance. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">As it turns out, the band is friends with Bryn, a local who is super cool and owns the Schoolhouse. So we all went back to her house for an after party. And what an after party it was. I won’t go in to details to protect those involved, but it was easily the best party I’ve been to so far in WV. And I was glad that Rachel was here to witness and take part in it. At one point pretty late into the party, the brass band picked up their instruments again and started playing. This is like 2 AM, many beers in, and they still kicked ass. They crammed themselves into this tiny camper and kept playing. It was awesome. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The next morning, in dire need of some brunch, preferably just bacon, Rachel and I drove to Lewisburg thinking there would be a good brunch place. To our dismay, we couldn’t find anything. We drove 30 minutes to find out that nothing was open. So we went to Arby’s. How American of us: driving 30 minutes to wait in line for 20 minutes for fast food. But oh was it delicious. I’ve never had an Arby’s sandwich before, so it was a big milestone in my life. On the way back to Hillsboro, we stopped by Beartown. I’ve been there too many times to count now, but it’s still amazing. Then we went to Tent City. It’s like it’s a tourist attraction. They should make a pamphlet about it and tell the Visitor’s Bureau about it. As we are pulling into the drive, it could not have been more perfect. Andrew and Corey are sitting on the front porch of the schoolhouse. Shirtless. Playing guitars and singing. Dogs running all over the place. Rachel and I couldn’t stop laughing. It was surreal: it could have been a postcard. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8EYc3YdxCSQFMH06wLyKSkdQUyOdvsXo1tUQs1XizxUZ7HjebbgMh79exbP0YY4CXhUaA1JOz0RHTnu7fx7VNuAdm9I3Wt3bSCzR5gO421rEKLP4XA2g62Z5Gmgm93uhj3Snk0SzG6Au/s1600/IMG_0171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS8EYc3YdxCSQFMH06wLyKSkdQUyOdvsXo1tUQs1XizxUZ7HjebbgMh79exbP0YY4CXhUaA1JOz0RHTnu7fx7VNuAdm9I3Wt3bSCzR5gO421rEKLP4XA2g62Z5Gmgm93uhj3Snk0SzG6Au/s320/IMG_0171.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It <i>should</i> be a postcard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUlh1xi0hGCsZWbUtFKW8k43Y2qmEmgidXkyGCS5XWpWNRuExyCbiLDJ7txidSJ40vg7hLs2P4jQyDOcAjkO32vjyVdvhYPQlEI_seFwwZdxyEC4FD7Xrdlum1LV8yCcQWdiZ-sOGhcft/s1600/IMG_0172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUlh1xi0hGCsZWbUtFKW8k43Y2qmEmgidXkyGCS5XWpWNRuExyCbiLDJ7txidSJ40vg7hLs2P4jQyDOcAjkO32vjyVdvhYPQlEI_seFwwZdxyEC4FD7Xrdlum1LV8yCcQWdiZ-sOGhcft/s320/IMG_0172.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dog only has 3 legs. Well really it has all four legs, but only three paws. He lost one of his back paws in a tragic hay cutting accident. lol typical West Virginia</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We got to see Josh’s completed tent. There’s even carpet and a goose down mattress. I think it might be nicer than my trailer. We all went swimming down the road a someone’s spring fed pond. It was nice and cold, unlike the river. There was an island to swim to and a dog that like to chase rocks. It was lovely. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Rachel decided she needed to be responsible and go back to Pitt before dinner. She’ll definitely be back. And for much longer than a day and a half. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Corey made burgers for dinner at Tent City. Sometimes I still can’t believe what I’ve gotten myself into. Molly told me “Good job coming here, Megan.” But seriously, props to fate or God or whatever higher being brought me here and brought me these amazing people. After dinner, there was an ice cream social at the Schoolhouse in Mill Point. So Josh, Corey, Andrew, Molly and I all crammed into my car. I happened to have my parents’ mix CD in the player and Country Roads came on. Josh blasted it and all five of us sang along. Not kidding. Five kids bouncing down the road singing Country Roads at the top of their lungs. Yet another thing that could have been on a postcard. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Corey made homemade ice cream from goat’s milk and put peaches, blueberries, and raspberries in it. It was divine. And there was a girl there from New York, Annie Crane, that sang and played the guitar. She sang some Irish tunes as well as some of her own. She had a beautiful voice and told some pretty entertaining stories about living in NYC. After the concert and ice cream, it was time for bed. It was quite a weekend. I ended up going to bed at 10:30. Cody was not happy. He had been left home all day long to sleep. The last thing he wanted to do when I got home was sleep. So today I’m taking him on a hike to make up for yesterday. I don’t think we’ll get attacked by any bears because Cody looks like one himself. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDf_tCW7Wrj7M-WL2BDE16qo9wVLoIMj5qHmLLWykHPJ0JUIFJDcPKHxlmaAn9z75lJ4HcBZ7y0W3yX72gEUUQUStB75M9yj4mt2-eJ8Bf1YfcbC77O2KbzWKFuEefb7SPnleZgZf0n7Vw/s1600/Cody+laughing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDf_tCW7Wrj7M-WL2BDE16qo9wVLoIMj5qHmLLWykHPJ0JUIFJDcPKHxlmaAn9z75lJ4HcBZ7y0W3yX72gEUUQUStB75M9yj4mt2-eJ8Bf1YfcbC77O2KbzWKFuEefb7SPnleZgZf0n7Vw/s320/Cody+laughing.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rawr I'm a ferocious bear!</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-42007666336601476012011-07-14T12:43:00.000-04:002011-07-14T12:43:41.070-04:00yet another dayThe croquet tournament turned out to be awesome. As stressed out as I was, I actually had a pleasant time. 34 people signed up to play and there were about a dozen spectators. It turned about to be a lovely afternoon. A member of our sponsor's team ended up winning and everyone kept telling us what a nice time they had. So there will definitely be one next year, if anyone is interested in signing up!<br />
<br />
Billy and Bethanne came for the weekend/week. I was hella busy Saturday and Sunday, so they did their own exploring: Beartown, Cranberry Glades, napping on my front porch. After the tournament on Sunday, we went to the river for a swim because it was quite a warm day. Cody has never been a water dog. But we wanted to join us sooo bad. He would stick his paw in the water and then pull it out and shake it off and act like a little sissy. He would sit on the side of the bank and whine until finally he got the courage to get into the water up to his chest, but he was not happy about it. The whole time he had a look on his face as if it were pure torture. For him, I guess it was. <br />
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Monday we decided to do some geocaching. I'm tired of trying to explain it to people so <a href="http://www.geocaching.com/">here's a good explaination.</a> It's a cool way to use technology to get into nature. Anyways, I always forget I live in a third world country and there's very little signal out here, so the first one we tried to do didn't work. It was along the High Rocks Trail, so at least we got a sweet hike in. The second one we tried actually worked, but when we found it, it had been ripped apart by some animal. I'm gonna go with a bear. Everything inside was pretty much destroyed and in pieces. I'm planning on going back to replace it. It was on a trail near the Nature Center and it was at the sight of an old prison that was used from the 30s-50s. They had a bunch of interpretive signs and it was actually really interesting. The prison didn't have an outside wall and the prisoners had a lot of freedom. One of the privileges was that on Sundays, they took hiking trips around the area. They could also work in a carpentry shop and sell the things they made or give them to family members. Sounds a lot different than prisons today.<br />
<br />
PS. watched The King's Speech. Everyone should see that movie. It's awesome. <br />
<br />
Working alone again today. I thought I heard someone come in the front door, but I didn't notice any car in the parking lot. I walked to the front rooms and no one was there, so I was about to walk outside on the front porch when I noticed out old friend, the groundhog, right there, looking like he wanted to walk in the house and get a tour. I about peed my pants. He just kinda looked at me as if to say "I'd like the senior discount please." I made some kind of growl at him, thinking he'd be scared and run away. But he just looked at me like I was a lunatic. I opened the door and ran at him and he scampered off under the porch. The rest of the day, I kept hearing noises. He was coming out of the porch and eating the grapes off the vine. I walked out there and said something to him, but that didn't phase him. He is clearly not scared of people. Or rather, not scared of me. <br />
<br />
I've found myself in a funk for the last week or so. Stress from work and the same old routine everyday is wearing on me. Happily, I've been working on the mandolin more. My fingers are growing some kick ass calluses and I think I'm improving. I even taught Billy a couple of chords. Also, one of my buddies lent me a bicycle and finally got around to dropping the seat down, so yesterday I went for a bike ride down the River Trail and it was awesome. Cody didn't much think so: he couldn't keep up very well. I biked about 4 miles and then later yesterday I jogged about 3 miles. That's right bitches, I'm "athletic" now. I gotta work off all the beer I've been drinking.<br />
<br />
On a final note, I have yet another visitor this weekend. My cousin Rachel, hailing from Pitt, will be here Saturday and Sunday. Haven't seen her in quite a while and a get together is much over due. <br />
I will say this though, after she comes, no one is allowed to visit me until August. I love yall and everything, and West Virginia is awesome, but stay the hell home! I'll be out of town next weekend anyways. August reservations are filling up fast, got more cousins coming and peeps from Athens. Start telling me some dates, people, because I can't promise that I'll have room on my floor for you. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-38369486242644069002011-07-09T11:48:00.003-04:002011-07-09T11:50:00.291-04:00also...ps. I love the "Stats" section of my blog so I can see how many people are actually reading and how they find it. One person typed into the search bar "where are the hipsters in west virginia" and my blog came up. friggin. awesome. I laughed for a solid 4 minutes about that. damn hipsters.<br />
<br />
If you're like my mom and don't know what a hipster is, <a href="http://www.hipsterhandbook.com/">this may help you.</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-69936901498953983242011-07-09T11:42:00.000-04:002011-07-09T11:42:34.272-04:00Go America!Kaylyn showed up to my house last Sunday in classic Kaylyn style. They had a GPS with them, but only on their phone, so they didn't know where they were going. They stopped at the gas station in Hillsboro asking for directions to my road. The people didn't know where my road was but asked "Who ya lookin' for?" because everyone in this town knows where everyone else lives. Except for me. They didn't know who I was ac McCoy's but they did know where the director of PSBB lives, so one kind soul drove Kay and Riana to my boss' house who in turn drove them to my house. Ridiculous. For those of you who know her, this is classic Kaylyn. This kinda stuff would only happen to her. She is too much like Shirley. Seriously. <br />
<br />
I thought I'd have a "party" at my house that night. In reality it was four people showing up at my house. Wild and crazy party, eh? Of course the Tent City Boys came and jammed and me and the girls set off fireworks, and then the hoops came out. Kay and Riana are expert hula hoopers. Riana just got a fire hoop. I swear they should join the circus. Josh put Kaylyn to work by giving him a haircut. He is still getting compliments on it. The next day she cut mine. I told her the next time she comes down here, I'm gonna have appointments for her. I've already talked to 3 people that want her to cut their hair! Again, classic Kaylyn. <br />
<br />
On the 4th, I took them to Beartown and we went swimming in the Greenbriar. They were total babies about it. "Are there leeches? Are we gonna get bit? How clean is it? What the hell is with the snails? I can't touch here! I'm a baby." psh and they consider themselves tomboys. We went into Marlinton to see Molly's mural and of course everyone I knew was there. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBO6u-OwfSUfVebjmt-bRNjqHcWqYcPeNglwk8p8dsvGUvM27wwAbRZqn77MzWyc3G1CqGGUO1A-lFtwGmm1dmevP6_oLm0qTimnr2vyR8bL8XGnmILbBD19NkY8wwxdHC_3CiT5CufD2d/s1600/Picture+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBO6u-OwfSUfVebjmt-bRNjqHcWqYcPeNglwk8p8dsvGUvM27wwAbRZqn77MzWyc3G1CqGGUO1A-lFtwGmm1dmevP6_oLm0qTimnr2vyR8bL8XGnmILbBD19NkY8wwxdHC_3CiT5CufD2d/s320/Picture+027.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
There was a band playing in the gazebo and free food and square dancing. It was a quaint little 4th celebration. It made me miss the Thompson 4th a lot. Some people set off some covert fireworks before the official town fireworks. We all agreed the unofficial ones were better. Molly had a lot of friends from Asheville, NC in town for her mural unveiling, so there was a party at Kelly's, across from Tent City. We proceeded to entertain ourselves by painting Kelly's porch. With our feet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5U6etVlAVCZ05_mpCdTtdwEoQa6a3uOMFgYsCwWb-_fkz8CjR8U9ghwD9MDZhnYfXGZpw9hgTxvcqEuFHnB4CQJhmVYq9bvsnzQwN0bXfwpX49KnpSaxGchTZVO_U-yDN1He8fUKiS2G/s1600/Picture+040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5U6etVlAVCZ05_mpCdTtdwEoQa6a3uOMFgYsCwWb-_fkz8CjR8U9ghwD9MDZhnYfXGZpw9hgTxvcqEuFHnB4CQJhmVYq9bvsnzQwN0bXfwpX49KnpSaxGchTZVO_U-yDN1He8fUKiS2G/s320/Picture+040.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Also, the Must family is friends with a couple from Athens: Russell Edwards, who ran for office in the House of Reps, and Airee Hong, who owns Agora - my favorite shop in DT Athens. Surprising, Airee recognized me and we proceeded to marvel at how small this world really is. They came up here for Molly's unveiling, showing just how much people freaking love this family. <br />
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After the girls left, I had to work all week to prepare for our big croquet tournament. I wasn't quite sure it was all gonna come together, but I think it really has! And we raised over $2000! Crazy! I've been super stressed about it, but only one more day and it's over! And Billy and Bethanne will be here this afternoon! I'm on visitor overload! <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgzT3N1RRbBM3SlxFGvgsHNwTeuA9-pNkI2RXf2kCQERcG4kVh29ttbUV9N8AjCbgXpal_V12dj5F_VberfUrCJnRSs2BwjZjqhspFdOIPbymQMXAen5nEO7kZPeAlfCz23Kw6EjsRff8/s1600/Picture+044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilgzT3N1RRbBM3SlxFGvgsHNwTeuA9-pNkI2RXf2kCQERcG4kVh29ttbUV9N8AjCbgXpal_V12dj5F_VberfUrCJnRSs2BwjZjqhspFdOIPbymQMXAen5nEO7kZPeAlfCz23Kw6EjsRff8/s400/Picture+044.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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PS if you live in PoCo, stop reading my blog! Joe. Emily. Cynthia. Anybody else. I'm talking to you. Quit it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-54398991551262912022011-07-07T13:47:00.000-04:002011-07-07T13:47:29.823-04:00one unidentified young womanQuick update on the missing person in the Cranberry Wilderness. Still nothing has turned up, but the radio released <a href="http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/wvmr/news.newsmain/article/1/0/1822295/AMR.Newsroom..and..Archive/West.Virginia.State.Police.Unsuccessful.In.Locating.Missing.Virginia.Man.In.Cranberry.Wilderness">this article</a>. Read or listen to it all the way through- they mention one unidentified young woman who got the shit scared out of her. Who's got two thumbs and never wants to visit the Wilderness again?! This chick. My mom told me she wants me to be in the Pocahontas Times newspaper by the end of my internship. I think this will do.<br />
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On the 4th, my friend Molly unveiled a mural she painted on the side of a building in Marlinton. It has rained pretty good the few hours before the ceremony, but the weather cleared out just in time for the event. The Pocahontas Times wrote <a href="http://www.pocahontastimes.com/news/story/mural-tells-story-of-pocahontas-county-its-people-and-its-poetry/204659">an article about the mural</a> and you can see a picture of it and read about the meaning. Molly is of the Must family, which includes Ginger, Bob, and Andrew. As one person put it, they are Pocahontas County royalty. They're artistic and open minded, hard working and friendly, super involved in the community. I feel truly blessed to even know them. <br />
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I've been super busy with the croquet tournament that we are hosting this weekend. Right now, I should be working on our booklet, but I thought I'd stop by and let people read some interesting articles as they are waiting for a big blog post. I still have yet to tell you about the fun visit with Kaylyn and Riana, and on Saturday, Billy and Bethanne are coming, so I'm gonna have even more to say. I've also been taking videos and pictures non stop, so hopefully those will entertain you as well. For now I should get back to work. blurg. This is the first time I've felt stress in a month and a half. I'd forgotten how terrible it is. On the plus side, we've raised over $2000 for the Birthplace! wooooop! But after this, I'm gonna need a vacation.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-15676944585891508042011-07-03T19:42:00.001-04:002011-07-03T19:43:20.489-04:00part two<div class="MsoNormal">So after dealing with the state patrol on the issue of the missing person, we head back to the Belafonte to get ready for drinks and apps with my landlords. My dad passes out on the front porch and I realize that I had a text from my uncle Mike. He and his family had been vacationing in Virginia Beach that weekend and would be passing within about 30 miles of Hillsboro. I was unaware of this until he texted me that he was in the PSBB parking lot! So the fam came over to the trailer and hung out for a bit and then headed to Droop Mountain and Beartown while the folks and I went across the street to meet up with the landlords. They had a whole spread of fruits and cheeses and delicious blueberries from their garden. They had some kinda blue-tini thing with the blueberries. Needless to say, we enjoyed them immensely. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">After drinks, we met back up with Mike, Mary, Lucas, and Jack for dinner at the Pretty Penny. Everyone had the pleasure of meeting Josh, Tyler, and Joe. I’m sure it was very entertaining for both parties. I won’t say too much more, but I guess it was kinda nice for my parents to at least meet some of the people I hang out with up here. Hopefully it was reassuring to them, but at the same time, I don’t really care. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The folks came to PSBB Thursday morning for their tour. And of course I kicked ass. I give great tours. You should come take one. When the rents left, I was kind of relieved but at the same time I had that quick pinch of loneliness that you get when you're not alone for a couple days, then suddenly you are. That's kind of how it always is with parents, isn't it: day one - This is great! I like my parents. I forgot how cool they are! day two - Sigh. This would be a lot more pleasant if they would get off my back. But I'm still having a pretty good time. Trying to stay positive. day three - I remember why I wanted to move out. When the hell are they gonna leave?! All I want is 5 minutes of peace. day four - Well, that wasn't nearly as terrible as I expected. I hope they come again....after several months. (Don't get offended, Ma and Pa. I still love you guys.)<br />
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The last couple days I've spent kind of recuperating, chilling out on my own (with Cody of course). Friday night, they played Independence Day at the drive-in. I cannot recommend this movie more. It was freaking hilarious. If you love America, watch this movie. Terrible acting, ridiculous dialogue, absurd special effects. Great movie. Hell yeah, America.<br />
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I've started running again, now that I have a buddy to go with me. Cody has been awesome off the leash and he usually keeps up with me. I swear I'm gonna run a 5k this year, even if it kills me. <br />
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Well again, I'm tired of typing. Some exciting news: I have some more surprise visitors, well hopefully I do. Hopefully they haven't gotten lost. They were supposed to be here 40 minutes ago, and knowing how she drives, they could very well be in Nebraska. Kaylyn and her friend Riana should be here soon though! This should be an awesome holiday!!!<br />
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PS my blog has been viewed over 700 times! Thank you!!! I hope I'm entertaining all of you. Also, people in the US, Germany, Japan, and France are tuning in! CRAZY! eeee! <br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-16991317371047427642011-07-01T15:55:00.000-04:002011-07-01T15:55:13.743-04:00It's gonna be a long one...<div class="MsoNormal">The Birthday Celebration went off without a hitch. About 30-40 people showed up. Which I guess was down from last year, but I was grateful that anybody came at all. We had a special guest – Pearl Buck! Lol but really we had a woman who calls herself an actress but is really just an impersonator. She dressed up and gave a speech as Pearl Buck. It was actually kind of cool. And the lady was really nice and friendly and grew up in Euclid, Ohio. What are the freaking chances. Crazy. After she spoke, some awards were given to students who participated in a writers activity. Out of the 20 entries, only three or so showed up to receive their awards: a free book and passes for two free tours. Big whup. Then the cake was cut and everybody stood around awkwardly for a while. Some of my friends had shown up, which kind of impressed me. But really they didn’t show up for the event; they just wanted to jam in the orchard. Surprise surprise. But no biggie. I was actually relieved that I could get away from watching old people eat cake to hang out with my buddies. I kept asking my boss what I was supposed to be doing or if I could help in any way, but there was seriously nothing to do, so I didn’t feel bad going to the other side of the property to listen to a song or two. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc7Shoj5T7sTD7uchargc_FkiMpSeEs538IYF5UgP86qIrQPjK2A5kAD5AxvhLVeguIkm-5LpnDe5IJiPYS1RA-yRpudR490kv3JseHdhuIq8d8I6fRT0j7QmBI-MEH_kjqxG80ePF1ZD/s1600/Picture+170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc7Shoj5T7sTD7uchargc_FkiMpSeEs538IYF5UgP86qIrQPjK2A5kAD5AxvhLVeguIkm-5LpnDe5IJiPYS1RA-yRpudR490kv3JseHdhuIq8d8I6fRT0j7QmBI-MEH_kjqxG80ePF1ZD/s320/Picture+170.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday night there was a bonfire at a friend’s house. The fire was huge and they kept going into their house and pulling out pieces of furniture that they wanted to burn. Talk about hillbilly. There was an old couch that they threw on too. I’m not sure if any of you are aware, but apparently it’s some kind of West Virginia University football tradition to burn couches. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgaubW17bjwlDHAbZH6C4TXiuF6HadgcDlXlA_iHXZsQmawam9GD3NSkALYFYapVNWMmewzZrUMieTvAeO6qS36akMd_3VVq1L5f6CF1SjCBRzdymnfQ8dzMGo4wayFY5Z4_tmqf1bTgY/s1600/Picture+179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgaubW17bjwlDHAbZH6C4TXiuF6HadgcDlXlA_iHXZsQmawam9GD3NSkALYFYapVNWMmewzZrUMieTvAeO6qS36akMd_3VVq1L5f6CF1SjCBRzdymnfQ8dzMGo4wayFY5Z4_tmqf1bTgY/s320/Picture+179.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> I guess some kids got arrested last year for doing it. I don’t know. Needless to say, burning couches is a West Virginny thing. Again, as always, the guys were jamming out. There was new guy thrown in though. His name is Chance McCoy (which sounds like some kind of made up rock star name) and he’s a champion fiddle player. I guess he won some contest that named him the best fiddler in the state. So that was pretty cool. I don’t think he played the fiddle all night though. Instead he played banjo and he kicked ass at that too. It was a perfectly clear night and the stars were awesome. We sat by the fire until really late, when the fog started to roll in. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I got to see how fiddles were made. There’s a local musician who builds and works on string instruments. I got to see a fiddle in the different stages of completion. It’s pretty awesome. Stupid me didn’t take pictures. But I guarantee I’ll be back to the workshop and I’ll try to learn a little more about the process.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My fingers are hurting from the mandolin. Today I was trying to practice the scale that Tyler wrote down for me, but its sounds terrible so I thought I would screw around on it. One of my favorite songs is from the Into the Wild soundtrack: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32Js2Ef5Ojg">Rise by Eddie Vedder</a>. It starts out on the mandolin and I think it is such a beautiful song. So I tried to figure it out for myself. I have no idea if I’m in the right key and I’m only playing single notes instead of chords, but to me, it sounds right. I kept working further into the song and every time I felt like what I was doing was correct, I’d hop outta my chair and do a little jig. There's also a Paul McCartney song that came out a couple years ago that was used in an <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LfyW5RbS53g&feature=related">iTunes commerical</a> that I want to learn. I am super pumped about learning this instrument. I always wished I had learned guitar. I tried to teach myself a couple years ago, but I got too frustrated. But I can definitely see myself sticking with mandolin for a little while. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Monday comes along, and with it, my parents. They arrived mid afternoon and wouldn't leave until Thursday. I had the whole week planned. And since we did so much, I'll prolly skip over things, but I'll do my best to keep it interesting. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRcbN4uppq4siYcNcaaWNqzuaAbSmHQUnukjnhRvHaq2q8_hj1AKOT1LAfzUMDDcCUcu556IWJq9FlH_iQRg8udEoETt8qO0DlsohqEfFFbKPYB6KfQ7ixdWOu6bihBrBj67SWh_jjhRd/s1600/Picture+197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRcbN4uppq4siYcNcaaWNqzuaAbSmHQUnukjnhRvHaq2q8_hj1AKOT1LAfzUMDDcCUcu556IWJq9FlH_iQRg8udEoETt8qO0DlsohqEfFFbKPYB6KfQ7ixdWOu6bihBrBj67SWh_jjhRd/s320/Picture+197.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">soooo happy that we're taking pictures</td></tr>
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Monday we went to Droop Mountain Battlefield and visited the overlook tower.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdY0sD8GuSXxhMcenehqom-NgHO-1ekVeSRohp6U1uQzbgA1m5w1ZlvAYbefs63_ysWRtaUID7yx39Vx4I_3MLGzji4smWh5RVPqOPqLziPxvLU48P8dPegMjq_KDqLElvhmGMeXSdLyR/s1600/Picture+206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDdY0sD8GuSXxhMcenehqom-NgHO-1ekVeSRohp6U1uQzbgA1m5w1ZlvAYbefs63_ysWRtaUID7yx39Vx4I_3MLGzji4smWh5RVPqOPqLziPxvLU48P8dPegMjq_KDqLElvhmGMeXSdLyR/s320/Picture+206.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mama's gonna love this picture</td></tr>
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Then we pranced around Beartown State Park (no bear this time). <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRHLsIqzHjQjDXKcvgJR6enhd_OJ5ylvw4zLi0_Rqg_wPTpulRVYkAba-vFkZbE2-dWrZdreI-N-r2rsF20xpq7cWhj-rAssy1mhJOtK8qlvMAK0hbm_J6sdkXCB3xpZyrdd-dS005c4C/s1600/Picture+219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvRHLsIqzHjQjDXKcvgJR6enhd_OJ5ylvw4zLi0_Rqg_wPTpulRVYkAba-vFkZbE2-dWrZdreI-N-r2rsF20xpq7cWhj-rAssy1mhJOtK8qlvMAK0hbm_J6sdkXCB3xpZyrdd-dS005c4C/s320/Picture+219.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's the Ledges in Thompson on steroids.</td></tr>
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Afterwards I cooked a delicious dinner and the landlords invited us to go to the farm above our houses. Ma and Pa brought the love of my life, Cody, with them and he'll be living with me from now on. I wasn't sure how he was going to react around livestock (there's a horse and three cows at the farm). Cody was totally freaked out by the horse and the cows were totally curious about Cody. After a while, he calmed down and realized he wasn't going to be eaten by monsters.<br />
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Tuesday we drove up to the Cass Scenic Railroad. I never thought of myself as interested in railroads, but this one was pretty cool. There are lots of intricate details that I could tell you about, but I don't remember and don't really care. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1I2xRRwmnHgbwjmJsYJz5jX3MVmEDIwos4zC9N_D_O4jRj6GppPmuIfUN-LdF4JUsaBo3pXaBYob9jYDAQPD6G1LgI0wM4BmZNz62UNu4IUIsLg0C9SEPieQpJIcO_81APmECgTYmXpA/s1600/Picture+250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg1I2xRRwmnHgbwjmJsYJz5jX3MVmEDIwos4zC9N_D_O4jRj6GppPmuIfUN-LdF4JUsaBo3pXaBYob9jYDAQPD6G1LgI0wM4BmZNz62UNu4IUIsLg0C9SEPieQpJIcO_81APmECgTYmXpA/s320/Picture+250.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitaker station</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatydEZws6F3e_JcWuC5mVQQwb5wd-wAJOU38QWY3TgEKlzyl3TDrzBCZ8eVV_-9Qh9WM8lhpFnobhqjtBNLA7djp5lkgi1qIrNu2h7wDQXIkFzs5hO0bRg1f3qaaCxL8B73ZP-bCB8fsE/s1600/Picture+253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatydEZws6F3e_JcWuC5mVQQwb5wd-wAJOU38QWY3TgEKlzyl3TDrzBCZ8eVV_-9Qh9WM8lhpFnobhqjtBNLA7djp5lkgi1qIrNu2h7wDQXIkFzs5hO0bRg1f3qaaCxL8B73ZP-bCB8fsE/s320/Picture+253.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the view from Whittaker station</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitk5kjLWOq_RpNHZ0Fseslc23zQLHsToC2aDzSnE_jLScRT4uZRvMY2cCfVSCvuHAZR7rtIHE0VTNfwcc49a1hFJtX67uM9WY7w4TwPxxdeQhsV1k4rSzSl7KumiHvLnYdxb7Zo0zwA2hd/s1600/Picture+267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitk5kjLWOq_RpNHZ0Fseslc23zQLHsToC2aDzSnE_jLScRT4uZRvMY2cCfVSCvuHAZR7rtIHE0VTNfwcc49a1hFJtX67uM9WY7w4TwPxxdeQhsV1k4rSzSl7KumiHvLnYdxb7Zo0zwA2hd/s320/Picture+267.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old man's gotta bad hip but can still jump inside a train engine.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPZWorvZ_nrere6o3RVGxwRiylsUjUQlCynfo0Eq7dQ8VL97IxR48E_tmL5_nPyRSAGrrcXMJFl35qlDYYdzmBZjWDEFJfRY1HURJm8ZvePHFIjNG5dQqbV5LXYkiAuHjpWHCyBkvVR_T/s1600/Picture+251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVPZWorvZ_nrere6o3RVGxwRiylsUjUQlCynfo0Eq7dQ8VL97IxR48E_tmL5_nPyRSAGrrcXMJFl35qlDYYdzmBZjWDEFJfRY1HURJm8ZvePHFIjNG5dQqbV5LXYkiAuHjpWHCyBkvVR_T/s200/Picture+251.jpg" width="200" /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9npg36mYbUhL7bfcEktcDcOWJjAtTwrRaw614yz_kh93MUHJsdmIlIaKx6_UCIF2cmkmk44mwNwUMll_C7A-xIj2o0oCYi5FjpMVe3k7idkzudnBRxFK0Zic3eAs3gfkdYFMu46y8MyQ/s1600/Picture+271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9npg36mYbUhL7bfcEktcDcOWJjAtTwrRaw614yz_kh93MUHJsdmIlIaKx6_UCIF2cmkmk44mwNwUMll_C7A-xIj2o0oCYi5FjpMVe3k7idkzudnBRxFK0Zic3eAs3gfkdYFMu46y8MyQ/s640/Picture+271.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical Garry. He got to ride in the engine on the way down. </td></tr>
</tbody></table> At Cass, we took the two hour trip to Whittaker station. There's another four trip trip, but I didn't think I could last that long on a train. The station was pretty cool and had a place to walk around and see the old logging machinery. Of course my dad got to talking to the brakeman and the engineer and some how, God only knows, he got to ride in the engine on the way down the mountain. Typical Garry. The guy who took our picture was super jealous. <br />
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After Cass, we went to Green Bank, which is where the National Radio Astronomy Observatory is. I still don't really know what is does and I'm not even gonna try to explain. Something about space and physics and the universe and science. But it's huge and pretty interesting I guess. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfu4qd_JgyNsYCI7d_4A1ETJPHW7AsDvpz9sSBw6Y_sn8jVOgX6qTw9NLUW7ztXRjPYjKPWi_vyCqycP5rSrfvswckr609SS1Ncded96aD7Oqp-T7_nyQv06i2SVotgiJqIskYzJKuJCWD/s1600/Picture+288.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfu4qd_JgyNsYCI7d_4A1ETJPHW7AsDvpz9sSBw6Y_sn8jVOgX6qTw9NLUW7ztXRjPYjKPWi_vyCqycP5rSrfvswckr609SS1Ncded96aD7Oqp-T7_nyQv06i2SVotgiJqIskYzJKuJCWD/s320/Picture+288.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't really tell how big it is from the picture, but it can hold a football field.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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The tour guide was a college kid from Marshall - theater performance major. So of course he was crazy. And SUPER awkward. I mean seriously: science plus theater equals socially inept. And of course he had his eye on me. All socially inept dudes do. He came up to me after the tour and of course struck up a conversation with Garry. That man will talk to anyone. He told me he was gonna visit me at work. Awesome. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdU_sCv7Oz3McFUfyVKl8mlCBVdn-Q7Fg6EpuvKMt0Kvc7oUArvg0Bz_osILZ-nrs0D5tYjy3W-ekCbupt2j0_Bo5U3q8dMetbdyiZ_eVzSIm4SEnn_ah58ZEx0JptVwjsO2H0az3aGFp/s1600/Picture+291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdU_sCv7Oz3McFUfyVKl8mlCBVdn-Q7Fg6EpuvKMt0Kvc7oUArvg0Bz_osILZ-nrs0D5tYjy3W-ekCbupt2j0_Bo5U3q8dMetbdyiZ_eVzSIm4SEnn_ah58ZEx0JptVwjsO2H0az3aGFp/s320/Picture+291.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">good ole ma and pa</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So Tuesday was our man-made wonders day and Wednesday was our natural wonders day. We started out at the Cranberry Glades and then tried to visit the Falls at Hills Creek, but there was a butt load of stairs and I don't much like stairs and neither does my dad's bum hip (I'm sure he's gonna be happy about this). So we ended up hiking the High Rocks trail off the Scenic Highway. It was 2 miles in, 2 out, and I wasn't sure how the rents were gonna take it, but they did just fine. Cody was wonderful on the trail. He understood not to run too far off, although he was super pumped to be off the leash. The High Rocks trail leads to an overlook of the Little Levels similar to the overlook at Droop Mountain, but just from a different angle. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YK0qex5fdhvO9GrwyJ3vfRja4Di8T_V46dypPwa4Fbt650HZzYtuMMR3t-rw7bgvXCpZOKh3lmOfh-YSkvJkMhzH-OB73t7ERF59OurajBI39X1FdTpQqJqouqEeyN9oYmhQVLMv2wsa/s1600/Picture+323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-YK0qex5fdhvO9GrwyJ3vfRja4Di8T_V46dypPwa4Fbt650HZzYtuMMR3t-rw7bgvXCpZOKh3lmOfh-YSkvJkMhzH-OB73t7ERF59OurajBI39X1FdTpQqJqouqEeyN9oYmhQVLMv2wsa/s320/Picture+323.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7Bbu_d8X5bV6VyTna3x8uyDzOCCSqlID1J3W0EbOA1Jsdiitk3_LJt6pzccE4e2PN-RaTnomEVXq4sd4ohzYaIAG9YsbMnfmmR0IdoZ8ofzOnRrMjVarW3nYlOHSBS8_JuBBbFnI6ABw/s1600/Picture+325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7Bbu_d8X5bV6VyTna3x8uyDzOCCSqlID1J3W0EbOA1Jsdiitk3_LJt6pzccE4e2PN-RaTnomEVXq4sd4ohzYaIAG9YsbMnfmmR0IdoZ8ofzOnRrMjVarW3nYlOHSBS8_JuBBbFnI6ABw/s320/Picture+325.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Levels</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq5JpC9Di3HuiJpdjUS2QRhYBCjthuE3FZs9DjlGWCBniLCQtzkB6YLDzrKzQdOxc8_lreML52gUkC0bi6RPSXikNWgPyqnmlotbsR8LcTNX39J34o8hLGnM3qNgDbW2dGIUsEQ9LslKL5/s1600/Picture+334.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq5JpC9Di3HuiJpdjUS2QRhYBCjthuE3FZs9DjlGWCBniLCQtzkB6YLDzrKzQdOxc8_lreML52gUkC0bi6RPSXikNWgPyqnmlotbsR8LcTNX39J34o8hLGnM3qNgDbW2dGIUsEQ9LslKL5/s320/Picture+334.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIUY-VrU9SNVo1BN_CFA7TC_bu563xaD_eGBykSbn0R8fRSwdFjeKHWpCN98opNZj0nodzkpSecvmO-SDGOVkhjgPCQP976D0YS1EJCzkSCBxcpEJ7Tta7N4fWsJJv0Igqv6V1o2-zp7f/s1600/Picture+337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIUY-VrU9SNVo1BN_CFA7TC_bu563xaD_eGBykSbn0R8fRSwdFjeKHWpCN98opNZj0nodzkpSecvmO-SDGOVkhjgPCQP976D0YS1EJCzkSCBxcpEJ7Tta7N4fWsJJv0Igqv6V1o2-zp7f/s320/Picture+337.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">soooooo happy</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-9wgztUkB_bTDTKWRkREvkttm-SSXCvGkq3I0vhDpskgOXO2qfUDjd5j_hdky50vwwU3BRvX3UJI8tAK-YefgyvoHZbBmV-_sW26q3v2j6RaUC-Ioi1kwprFC1099uv77dgQg0TSSgAGW/s1600/Picture+355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-9wgztUkB_bTDTKWRkREvkttm-SSXCvGkq3I0vhDpskgOXO2qfUDjd5j_hdky50vwwU3BRvX3UJI8tAK-YefgyvoHZbBmV-_sW26q3v2j6RaUC-Ioi1kwprFC1099uv77dgQg0TSSgAGW/s320/Picture+355.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">two walking sticks. no waiting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2auMdMZWbP6TzZGkKitqgnILliZlzcQqzDd4zO32fgLUb4klSglzARLO8JJbcOv695tSwZLfTkZdSy2sa_RnkzXCQEstWMvIb6JRsW8TsA3VGBcZrjPwsxW5NCpePkz3LefJxv-JeF0Le/s1600/Picture+360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2auMdMZWbP6TzZGkKitqgnILliZlzcQqzDd4zO32fgLUb4klSglzARLO8JJbcOv695tSwZLfTkZdSy2sa_RnkzXCQEstWMvIb6JRsW8TsA3VGBcZrjPwsxW5NCpePkz3LefJxv-JeF0Le/s320/Picture+360.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">happy puppy!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After surviving the hike, we drove down the Scenic Highway to another overlook but no other overlook is as great at the High Rocks Trail. We stopped and had lunch and then moved on to the next overlook. There were a bunch of cars there, some cop cars. And there were a few people sitting around outside when we got out to look at the overlook. My dad being who he is, struck up a conversation and found out that they were there because there was a missing person in the Cranberry Wilderness. This interested me because as you may remember, I hiked in the Wilderness over Memorial Day. I mentioned this to the cops and they found that interesting because the person had gone missing just before Mem Day. They asked what trails I took. I said Big Beechy to the Middle Fork. They asked where we had parked. I said the Big Beechy Trailhead. They asked if I had seen any cars at the trailhead. I said I think there was a BMW and the only reason I remember that is because you don't often associate someone who owns a BWM with someone who hikes in the wilderness. As it turns out, the person who owned that car is the person who is missing. That's right folks, I am the only eye witness to this vehicle (other than my hiking group of course). The patrolman asked if he could ask me a few questions in his car so that he could get as much information as possible. I told him all the details I could remember of the weekend. But we hadn't seen any solo hikers in the two days. I was totally freaked out. I still am. Cuz seriously what are the chances that we would have chosen that trail, that no one else had parked there, and that we would have come across the cops at the overlook?!</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"> </div><div class="MsoNormal">So I'm sick of typing, but I'm still not done telling the story of my parents' being here. You'll just have to wait until tomorrow. I'll leave you with a cliffhanger...we had surprise visitors....<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-36188026580229351562011-06-25T14:21:00.000-04:002011-06-25T14:21:39.473-04:00parade timeFour hours of sleep before the busiest day at Pearl Buck? I'm responsible!<br />
And it's not busy anyways. The Little Levels Heritage Fair is underway, but not much is happening. The parade lineup is on the front lawn, so there's a lot of people here, but none of them want to talk to me. And I am just fine with that. Lots of tractors and a couple of old cars. And little girls running around in tiaras and sashes, with titles such as "Little Miss Roadkill Stew" and "Teen Miss Mountain Salamander Queen." This makes me miss the Thompson Fourth of July parade when I was a kid. I always thought it was so cool that I could be in the parade, even if I was just riding my bike. <br />
<br />
I thought I was gonna have to work the PSBB booth in the elementary school gym, but somehow I got outta that so I'm sitting in the office waiting to give tours. I'm looking forward to the cake. That's what's getting me through the day. <br />
<br />
I went to the schoolhouse last night. Due to parking problems, I wasn't able to make it to the masters concert and the big finale of Allegheny Echoes in Marlinton. But that does not mean that I missed out on great music. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/thecarperfamily">The Carper Family</a> was playing at the schoolhouse. They're three chicks who are totally bad ass bluegrass players. Bass, fiddle, guitar, and three voices that harmonized perfectly. The schoolhouse was pretty packed and for good reason. The ladies were definitely great performers and I hope to see them again. I apologize for the quality of my video. It's hard to take a video when you're bouncing around trying to dance.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/La7Yo5KF2qI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
After the ladies were done singing, then it was time for some Texas two step. Having sat out square dancing earlier in the week, I felt it was my hillbilly duty to try some two steppin. I had no clue what I was doing of course. But it sure was fun. Everybody was just spinning each other around the dance floor. And I've got to admit, I had a pretty good partner. After dancing, the Tent City Boys (Josh, Clay, and Andrew - and if they decide to start an actual band and use that name, I better get some credit) started jamming outside. Of course. These dudes never stop playing. <br />
<br />
Instead of being able to watch the parade, or really participate in any fair activities, I get to sit here at work and write this blog! So I've got some more pictures for you. Yet again, more flowers. I know I know. Enough with the damn flowers already! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2Myb1qYBIBxBV-Bz1W6xTxe4XrFkJxpZYcEDaxsXU72dYJ39rPosTyeXO1JVYlU71Hk1P0FAxXOkemdgrEOg87i-lKR62Xfa8C6MSX23M3hjomb0zI7xdDEimhP7VdldGZwrOIh3OyRn/s1600/Picture+162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB2Myb1qYBIBxBV-Bz1W6xTxe4XrFkJxpZYcEDaxsXU72dYJ39rPosTyeXO1JVYlU71Hk1P0FAxXOkemdgrEOg87i-lKR62Xfa8C6MSX23M3hjomb0zI7xdDEimhP7VdldGZwrOIh3OyRn/s320/Picture+162.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQJi4y_078OLA00psiDrv-C0viXaSmh8X2jDC0bjsSX9DiRPvfleNuPluP5-UFH_2ZDnPODSE0geTFgBsdM1Ku9oW5dxtQtfFiWKiA0bJSkm2vp7-tQ_Y_Oo7AGkn2PBxe_qErUop27Y-/s1600/Picture+157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQJi4y_078OLA00psiDrv-C0viXaSmh8X2jDC0bjsSX9DiRPvfleNuPluP5-UFH_2ZDnPODSE0geTFgBsdM1Ku9oW5dxtQtfFiWKiA0bJSkm2vp7-tQ_Y_Oo7AGkn2PBxe_qErUop27Y-/s640/Picture+157.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These guys were in the parade. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6jcLeA_2jov-q2JAT8b-y7XuLEhCZ5-aQhlOGJlknhwszTFnBaVW3QTPLce-ilTdzHSHvrzXWrlW7bzzRKOmztz3Uzy6u3WEkAlRnp4WbgkmgRT4MkHgZhaw-F6RmYuN637qEzSwfZIk/s1600/Picture+161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR6jcLeA_2jov-q2JAT8b-y7XuLEhCZ5-aQhlOGJlknhwszTFnBaVW3QTPLce-ilTdzHSHvrzXWrlW7bzzRKOmztz3Uzy6u3WEkAlRnp4WbgkmgRT4MkHgZhaw-F6RmYuN637qEzSwfZIk/s320/Picture+161.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2051947712413229716.post-72534412642291116412011-06-24T13:51:00.001-04:002011-06-24T14:06:23.899-04:00stormin'I'm missed the croquet tournament meeting on Tuesday because I was floating the river and it took way longer than expected. And to reward me for my irresponsibility, and because I'm the intern and this is my job, I am putting together the sponsor booklet for the tournament. I've never used Publisher before, and I have no idea even how to get it on my computer. So this is gonna go really well. I feel like most of the stuff that we're doing for the tournament, which is in two weeks, should have been done about a month ago. So again, this is gonna go really well.<br />
<br />
The Little Levels Heritage Fair starts today. I can't believe June is almost over. This month has flown by. But the fair starts tomorrow and of course, just like everything else at PSBB, there is mass confusion and nothing is set in stone about what is happening and I don't even know when/where I'm working the next two days. Very efficient. I'm the kind of person that likes a plan, an itinerary, as basic concept of what is going down. PSBB, being run by people from West Virginia, run on the idea that things will get done eventually if it really needs to be done. Veeeery efficient. But as much as I complain, I'm trying to go with the flow and just deal with the cards I've been dealt. I mean, if it all goes up in flames, oh well. I'll just move on to the next thing.<br />
<br />
Last night I didn't go to the Motor Inn. I needed a bit of a break, as did my liver. But tonight there is much happening. The schoolhouse is having a show (you might remember that the schoolhouse is the hipster Mecca of Pocahontas County) and Allegheny Echoes is having their masters' concert tonight as well. And I'm sure they're gonna jam again afterwards at the Motor Inn. (PS to Justin: there was a fiddle player Tuesday night. He was pretty good, but not as impressive as the others, hence he got no mention.) Tyler was kind enough to lend me his mandolin for the next week.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5wLU534eSfGFk0NKkrDcMp1yQ459xRGxw6inCofbA-yaA7tUAMMffGmVSXbDjU_9xF3dtCZJMWFeRPpKisysV6jMmC13Jpxeck_B_EvyQFVSKoTg4TOpsrIB94doAaQMQqXe72p6WLlx/s1600/Picture+152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn5wLU534eSfGFk0NKkrDcMp1yQ459xRGxw6inCofbA-yaA7tUAMMffGmVSXbDjU_9xF3dtCZJMWFeRPpKisysV6jMmC13Jpxeck_B_EvyQFVSKoTg4TOpsrIB94doAaQMQqXe72p6WLlx/s200/Picture+152.jpg" width="111" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">aint it purdy?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>He gave me a scale to practice, but I don't think I'm playing it right. The library must have a book for me.<br />
<br />
With my parents coming Monday - Thursday, I have a whole week of activities planned. And a lot is stuff I've never done before, so I'm pretty excited. We're going to take the Cass Scenic Railroad and visit the National Radio Astronomy Observatory (the same piece of crap that makes cell reception impossible). But I'm actually pretty pumped to see it and learn about science and stars and shit. That's because I'm a dweeb and I fully embrace that. If you're a dweeb like me, you might find <a href="http://www.gb.nrao.edu/">this site</a> interesting.<br />
<br />
Yesterday a big storm came through. During the day, it was the perfect summer shower. No thunder or lightning. Just light rain and the sun still shining.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7f_B0z4GTn1-dxDArAfJXQsMheQb7DHQodzPhBNaqvS6iz15c_baef_ORmFBDWzG3TiNMzb-rmpEsvHYyjvt3rnrbwmJ4dYzl-fHQjHu5iy1VyQTxCQR8Zo8X3sjo3c3WpDspVq2mPjmr/s1600/Picture+150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7f_B0z4GTn1-dxDArAfJXQsMheQb7DHQodzPhBNaqvS6iz15c_baef_ORmFBDWzG3TiNMzb-rmpEsvHYyjvt3rnrbwmJ4dYzl-fHQjHu5iy1VyQTxCQR8Zo8X3sjo3c3WpDspVq2mPjmr/s320/Picture+150.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Then at night the real storm came in. Out of nowhere, rain began pounding on the trailer so hard that I just about jumped out of bed. The lighting was so bright and so constant that lit up my bedroom like a strobe light. Excuse me Mother Nature, but we could save the rave for another evening? The wind was really strong as well, coming straight from my wind and smacking me in the face. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much during the storm.<br />
<br />
I gave two tours today. Each group had children. The first group had a quiet girl and a super obnoxious boy. The whole time I kept thinking about how much I hate children and how I wanted to shove a sock in this kids mouth to shut him up. I literally had to take a deep breath and calm myself down after every question, and here were about 13,000 questions. The next group had about 5 kids, all boys ranging from ages 3 to 12. I wen I saw them all I thought was "Oh shit. I hate children." But as it turned out they were really good kids. A couple of them asked questions that were actually intelligent and all of them seemed attentive to my little speeches. They actually reminded me of my three kid cousins, all boys who can be super rowdy but know when to settle down. I was happy these kids showed up to restore my faith in children. I hate children less because of these kids.<br />
<br />
Now enough of that. Here's some random photos! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx87Mx-w8MwxsOFvCXCziZMWo3-Ou0LPrOmgum4ILmbwPULfYrpgZ5OVj9hhWYockFgj3c7oWBheBnT16htK9AO4-n0smrm3g1l54ROAsqrF5fyRPnoV5lJwNVjBf_pvdR6XycnzE3kR_9/s1600/Picture+143.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx87Mx-w8MwxsOFvCXCziZMWo3-Ou0LPrOmgum4ILmbwPULfYrpgZ5OVj9hhWYockFgj3c7oWBheBnT16htK9AO4-n0smrm3g1l54ROAsqrF5fyRPnoV5lJwNVjBf_pvdR6XycnzE3kR_9/s320/Picture+143.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This lil creeper was hanging out at PSBB. I think I should convert the museum to a petting zoo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table> These next pictures were all taken from the same tree. And each bloom is at a different stage and I think that's pretty cool. <br />
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<br />
I found a Pearl Buck quote that I really like: "To understand today, you must search yesterday."<br />
I'm a history dork and all, but I think it's a good quote nonetheless.<br />
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