since last time

- made an evening rip to Atlanta for a concert after having driven to Chattanooga to spend the week, which I will try so desperately to avoid repeating in the future, because it was so incredibly unsettling to be "visiting" the town I technically live in while also "visiting" my old home town and I felt creepy about it for the rest of the week

- danced onstage with the Hold Steady, briefly and with twenty other people and in a moment of such conflicted emotion (what's that pang? fear? elation? embarassment? or my arm muscles screaming in shock after having not been used for a decade until I heaved myself up on the stage, Joe not far behind?)

- reconfirmed my disappointment with Bitten (the reasons are numerous but the main one is that too many of the clothes smell like the weirdly stinky black fabric my mom bought in 1990 and proceeded to make about nine million different Halloween costumes out of over the next few years, which were all scratchy and smelly, which is fine when you're dressed up like a witch or a spider or whatever but not when you're trying to be fabulous and thrifty, which by the way can be achieved via Target clearance racks for just about the same price and possibly even more cutely)

- watched so much America's Next Top Model that I actually convinced myself that I not only could but should try out for the show and use all the vast knowledge I've accumulated on effective tactics and whatnot to totally win, despite being really, really unphotogenic and generally appalled by the idea of spending over one week in a house, no matter how fabulous, with any of the kind of people that would actually take that shit seriously (Elyse, you are a saint)

- ate The Best Turkey Ever at Thanksgiving, no really, no seriously, I know everyone always says that but it was really the best turkey ever ever (soaked overnight in some vinegar, or was it beer?, and orange juice mixture, then smoked on the back porch of my dad's cousin's house, then carried safely back to my grandmother's in a giant soup pot, then summarily destroyed to the point of having no leftover meat whatsoever)

- attended the umpteen millionth Grand Illumination in downtown Chattanooga with Marie, with whom I balked at the LIVE NATIVITY SCENE which not only means live angels and shepherds and even a REAL LIVE (very cold) BABY JESUS, but also LIVE GOATS, LIVE BIRDS, LIVE SHEEP, and what may have been a VERY SMALL LIVE LLAMA or perhaps just a VERY UNSHAVEN AWKWARDLY SHAPED LIVE GOAT, which by the way I don't think was Biblically accurate whatsoever; neither were those armwarmers the dopey angel women were wearing either... GOD CAN SEE YOU, LADIES, and he's not a fan of resurgent 80s fashion, even if it is 34 degrees outside

- promptly purchased and ate the most amazing funnel cake of my life, which was probably only so amazing because I'd been literally craving one for over five years

- watched more National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation than I ever had in the whole rest of my life

- experienced more college-related nostalgia than usual, oddly enough due to the lack of impending-finals stress infusing my Thanksgiving celebrations

- bought rice milk, tried rice milk, realized rice milk is TOTALLY AMAZING, possibly because my standards have been so depressingly lowered by drinking skim milk for my whole life that eating water on cereal would actually be creamier

- finished reading a book (Almost French) for the second time this year, stared what I'm sure will be the third (Waiting for the Barbarians)

- finally got my Georgia driver's license

- ruined my love of Zucca from Figo by eating it all in one serving instead of saving half for dinner, which means not only will I probably not be able to eat it any time soon but also I can't have it for dinner

the three things I most fondly remember about Dollywood

1. Recordings of Dolly Parton songs are broadcast throughout the park via speakers hidden in bushes and trees and giant dilapidated wagons and expansive butterfly-themed flower beds. You have no idea where the music is coming from, but such is the magic of this ridiculous place that you are willing to believe that Dolly herself is always just around the corner, cooing away.

2. An on-site museum is dedicated to educating the public on the life and times of Dolly Parton. She is, for the record, still alive.

3. Entire gift shops within park grounds exclusively sell Dolly Parton-themed merchandise, including dolls, coffee mugs, keychains and more. And people buy it. And they love it.

Strangely, not one of these three things are mentioned in The Economist's recent piece on the park. This is either because A) the writer did not actually go to the park (because how could you not want to tell everyone about these things after actually having gone?) or B) the park has changed significantly since my fondly-remembered visits in 1994 and 1998, and has somehow become less creepy.

Flagrant violations of journalistic integrity grate upon my soul, but I would almost rather the piece have been wholly fabricated than find out that Dollywood has strayed so far from the uber-campy self-indulgence I knew as a child.

(What the hell am I saying? That place totally freaked me out-- fried pies, huge boobies, Bald Eagle refugee camp and all.)

backflips! arm wrasslin'!

The way I see it, any day I can manage a Surya Bonaly reference in a Ted Leo news item is a really good day.

georgia not greece

I was up in Athens over the weekend, visiting Miriam in grad school land. It was a big football weekend, which I had no idea about when I planned the trip, so much like my last visit to Boone to visit Kelly (apparently I didn't blog about it), I unwittingly wound up in the midst of a whole lot of chaos and excitement that I was completely unable to relate to in any way.

I did a lot of open gawking at the throngs of otherwise seemingly normal, composed adults who on Saturday turned into slobbering, screaming, parking-space-stealing, heavy-drinkin'-in-the-middle-of-the-street, color-coded trogdolytes, but they did not notice. They only had eyes for beer and Dawgs.

Fortunately this meant that when I traipsed down to Agora that afternoon, I basically had the place to myself. It is now officially one of my all-time favorite places to spend money that I should officially not spend on things that I officially do not need. Except I do think I officially needed that giant chunky double-stranded fakefakefake pearl necklace (two dollars!), which I feel would have been doubtlessly snatched up by some pseudo-ironic sorority girl, had they not all been elsewhere for the afternoon.

Other highlights: popcorn machines in almost every bar, blackberry muffins from Big City, and kittens seemingly falling from the sky when you least expect or need them.

the joe

Five years, one week and four days later and I am still finding out all these funny things about him, like how he doesn't really like Greek food and how he thinks Parker Posey is cute-slash-hot and how he can't not stomp ant hills. He likes me even though I often cry without warning and/or reason, and even though I get sleepy-drunk after two beers, and even though I recently told him I was jealous of this woman Lisa who's been cutting his hair since he was five and maybe it's time to move on? (He said no, it wasn't.)

couldn't drag me away

This is no way to foster kids' love of animals, unless those kids happen to have an interest in OMG SKELETOR ZOMBIE HORSES.

happy yesterday-o-ween

Hooray! This shit's finally on sale!