This week I've realized that the only trend I haven't jumped on is on-line dating. And I've been horribly remiss with my blogging. So in an attempt to fix both these problems in one fell swoop, I am going to start meeting people on-line and hopefully accumulating some entertaining stories for my audience (all 3...4...5? of you). Although this could really get in the way of watching Miss Congeniality for the 50th, 51st and 52nd times, I feel like it's something I need to do as a single person in 2010.
The only problem is that I just went on Match.com and it is almost $20 a month - WTF? I kind of felt like I was going to be paying for escorts. So I closed out of the site... except I just got an email saying my profile had been accepted, so now I'm confused and a little concerned as to what truncated description of myself is visible to other singles in my area. The good news is that I think there are no singles in my area. But still I need to go back and check. And I need to find a cheaper site. Not that my love life and eternal happiness isn't priceless... but I'd need to be guaranteed results in exchange for that amount of money, and I just don't think rural AR can deliver.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The AR 10... 20... the sky's the limit
I have discovered a few new local specialties in the last week.
The most pleasant discovery was James at the Mill, a real restaurant just 15 minutes away. By real I mean that the interior was clearly decorated by someone with a design background (aka no ancient picnic tables and plastic squeeze bottles for condiments) and the menu was not completely fried. For example, I started with Blue lump crab cake on Tomatillo salsa verde and ancho-chile aioli with frisse, spicy pecan, and 6-month Manchego salad dressed with a white truffle vinaigrette. The chef is apparently well-known beyond the region, and the food certainly tasted like it. The bizarre thing is that the restaurant is a member of "Small Luxury Hotels of the World." What would a small luxury hotel be doing in a nowhere town like Johnson, AR? And who would be paying to stay there?
The most surprisingly happy discovery was Chili Frito Pie. Not sure who invented this, but drowning Fritos in hot chili and covering the whole mixture with shredded cheddar is pure genius. We had a work charity event (one of the hundreds we've had in the last 2 months) where one area donated this for lunch like a spicy bake sale. The best part was that the chili had no beans - in the South apparently even beans are considered too healthy, and for once I'm not arguing.
The last discovery was Mary Maestri's, an "authentic" Italian restaurant in Tontitown AR, where Italian immigrants randomly settled over a hundred years ago. Mary has been there for over 90 years and although I wouldn't call fried chicken (one of her specialties) authentic Italian fare, the food was incredibly tasty. The pasta is freshly made and they heaped freshly-baked yummy rolls on our table throughout the meal; two types - one for the salad, one for the main dishes. (I've learned to stop trying to understand these bizarre-ities and just enjoy them when they're tasty.)
Anyway, during recruiting these past few months, whenever I was asked what the worst part of this place was I always said the food (no time needed to think about it either). But I'm starting to like some of the stuff around here. Here I am enjoying my Frito pie - best news is they're having another chili charity tomorrow.
The most pleasant discovery was James at the Mill, a real restaurant just 15 minutes away. By real I mean that the interior was clearly decorated by someone with a design background (aka no ancient picnic tables and plastic squeeze bottles for condiments) and the menu was not completely fried. For example, I started with Blue lump crab cake on Tomatillo salsa verde and ancho-chile aioli with frisse, spicy pecan, and 6-month Manchego salad dressed with a white truffle vinaigrette. The chef is apparently well-known beyond the region, and the food certainly tasted like it. The bizarre thing is that the restaurant is a member of "Small Luxury Hotels of the World." What would a small luxury hotel be doing in a nowhere town like Johnson, AR? And who would be paying to stay there?
The most surprisingly happy discovery was Chili Frito Pie. Not sure who invented this, but drowning Fritos in hot chili and covering the whole mixture with shredded cheddar is pure genius. We had a work charity event (one of the hundreds we've had in the last 2 months) where one area donated this for lunch like a spicy bake sale. The best part was that the chili had no beans - in the South apparently even beans are considered too healthy, and for once I'm not arguing.
The last discovery was Mary Maestri's, an "authentic" Italian restaurant in Tontitown AR, where Italian immigrants randomly settled over a hundred years ago. Mary has been there for over 90 years and although I wouldn't call fried chicken (one of her specialties) authentic Italian fare, the food was incredibly tasty. The pasta is freshly made and they heaped freshly-baked yummy rolls on our table throughout the meal; two types - one for the salad, one for the main dishes. (I've learned to stop trying to understand these bizarre-ities and just enjoy them when they're tasty.)
Anyway, during recruiting these past few months, whenever I was asked what the worst part of this place was I always said the food (no time needed to think about it either). But I'm starting to like some of the stuff around here. Here I am enjoying my Frito pie - best news is they're having another chili charity tomorrow.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Wedding Bells
I can't believe it's already getting cold and I have yet to post pictures of this summer's wedding camp extravaganza upstate. This is the event my high school friends and I have been waiting for for years - and it was everything we had hoped for (including Theo officiating bu excluding sharing bathrooms).
The weekend upstate was the first time since high school that I have had that much continuous hanging out time with that many HS peeps, and will probably be the last. Not strangely, it was as if nothing had changed. Conversation was still easy, people were still much like they had been, and we still liked each other. Since HS I've almost exclusively met people who either hated their high school or at least easily forgot about it - and I've always been sad for them.
Looking at these photos again is making me even more excited to go home for Thanksgiving on Wednesday. I miss everyone so much out here.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Playing catch up
I'm about to embark on a tour of the South - or at least a tour of "notable" cities within driving distance. This weekend I hop off to Tulsa for Satnight and Sunday, next weekend I break for Thanksgiving at home, the next weekend I go to St Louis - and so on. But before I do that I felt I had to update my blog with some of the bizarreness I have seen right here in NW Arkansas since I last updated regularly (many, many moons ago).
There was Bikes Blues & BBQ in Fayetteville, which - if I hadn't been so painfully hungover - would have been the best Saturday of my time here so far. Unfortunately, the night before I spent patronizing an open bar with free cigars; the following was the last thing I remember.
But since B,B&BBQ is a once-a-year event, I dragged myself out of bed the next day at noon and got in my friend's car (and by friend I mean someone I met the night before - but we are actually friends now). Like I said, it was amazing. Dickson Street was lined with people dressed in leather chaps and leather...
...whatever that is. And the craziest array of bikes passed - there were so many bikes in this procession we finally stopped watching and went inside for Bloody Mary lunch - and when we came out 3 hours later they were still coming.
(That last picture was taken outside a church.) The Bloody Marys gave me the energy I needed to get through the rest of the afternoon, evening and night, which is a good thing because otherwise I would have missed eating fair food for dinner and catching this amazing sign:
Just a few weeks later Teresa came to visit from the big city and as if by magic the most redneck event ever happened to be taking place just 20 minutes away - mule jumping. This activity consists of mules taking standing leaps over limbo sticks until only one can clear the height. Since they are half donkey they can jump from a standstill, as opposed to horses who need a running start. I believe the winner cleared over 5.5 feet, which was apparently a big disappointment to those who had attended the previous year.
We brought a cooler of orange juice, champagne and Chambord and sipped cocktails from red plastic cups. As close to tailgating as I ever hope to come.
There was Bikes Blues & BBQ in Fayetteville, which - if I hadn't been so painfully hungover - would have been the best Saturday of my time here so far. Unfortunately, the night before I spent patronizing an open bar with free cigars; the following was the last thing I remember.
But since B,B&BBQ is a once-a-year event, I dragged myself out of bed the next day at noon and got in my friend's car (and by friend I mean someone I met the night before - but we are actually friends now). Like I said, it was amazing. Dickson Street was lined with people dressed in leather chaps and leather...
...whatever that is. And the craziest array of bikes passed - there were so many bikes in this procession we finally stopped watching and went inside for Bloody Mary lunch - and when we came out 3 hours later they were still coming.
(That last picture was taken outside a church.) The Bloody Marys gave me the energy I needed to get through the rest of the afternoon, evening and night, which is a good thing because otherwise I would have missed eating fair food for dinner and catching this amazing sign:
Just a few weeks later Teresa came to visit from the big city and as if by magic the most redneck event ever happened to be taking place just 20 minutes away - mule jumping. This activity consists of mules taking standing leaps over limbo sticks until only one can clear the height. Since they are half donkey they can jump from a standstill, as opposed to horses who need a running start. I believe the winner cleared over 5.5 feet, which was apparently a big disappointment to those who had attended the previous year.We brought a cooler of orange juice, champagne and Chambord and sipped cocktails from red plastic cups. As close to tailgating as I ever hope to come.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Southern Peculiarities
Today I drove 3.5hrs each way to Kansas City to comp shop for work. Unfortunately I didn't see much of the city, but the Nordstrom in the mall was the size of a boutique, which didn't give me much hope. I hear the Plaza is the hot spot, so maybe when Valerie's Tour of the South returns to KC I'll be more impressed.
On my drive back to AR I did pass a town that pretty much summed up how I feel. Its sign said:
Peculiar City Limits.
Just past Peculiar I stopped at a rest stop where I
1) found the perfect Secret Santa gift - my victim is obsessed with cow figurines and they had cow hand puppets that say "moo" in a deadpan male human's voice when you move its mouth
2) saw a coin-operated perfume machine in the restroom dispensing Giorgio Armani and Obsession.
Just another day in the south.
On my drive back to AR I did pass a town that pretty much summed up how I feel. Its sign said:
Peculiar City Limits.
Just past Peculiar I stopped at a rest stop where I
1) found the perfect Secret Santa gift - my victim is obsessed with cow figurines and they had cow hand puppets that say "moo" in a deadpan male human's voice when you move its mouth
2) saw a coin-operated perfume machine in the restroom dispensing Giorgio Armani and Obsession.
Just another day in the south.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
LPGA
The LPGA tour was in Bentonville this weekend at the Pinnacle Hills Golf Club, so fittingly my first golf lesson was today after work. As expected, I am a natural.
My left arm refuses to stay straight, so while I think I look quite graceful while my club is in the air, it invariable ends up ramming into the top of the ball or the dirt with a less-than-graceful thud. And if I forget to keep my knees bent, slamming the club into the ground takes on an added dimension of pain that sears through my entire body. The teach told me to make sure to pick up my right heel as I go around so as to prevent soreness in my lower back - he has no idea how far down my list of concerns that is right now.
After a pleasantly raucous dinner with my golf girls, I am back at home with my kitty, who definitely felt the pain of loneliness more today since she's had a weekend of non-stop attention (from not just me but David's whole family). She just crawled around my neck twice as I sat here typing this.
My left arm refuses to stay straight, so while I think I look quite graceful while my club is in the air, it invariable ends up ramming into the top of the ball or the dirt with a less-than-graceful thud. And if I forget to keep my knees bent, slamming the club into the ground takes on an added dimension of pain that sears through my entire body. The teach told me to make sure to pick up my right heel as I go around so as to prevent soreness in my lower back - he has no idea how far down my list of concerns that is right now.
After a pleasantly raucous dinner with my golf girls, I am back at home with my kitty, who definitely felt the pain of loneliness more today since she's had a weekend of non-stop attention (from not just me but David's whole family). She just crawled around my neck twice as I sat here typing this.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Lazy Thursday
Or at least I wish it were lazy. There are two funny things about being sick when you're an adult. And by funny I mean HAHAHHA HaHa.. ha... huh... = not so funny really.
- Everything aches - my chest, my head, my back, my stomach. Everything just hurts so much more because I am OLDER.
- While you can stay home from work, that does not mean you cannot work. Tuesday I was starting to look bad and everyone in my aisle including my boss told me a thousand times to go home. So when I emailed my boss Wed morning to say I wasn't coming in until my afternoon meetings so I could try and sleep the illness off he said: "Do not come in, stay home and get better." When he saw me arrive at 11am he gave me an exasperated look - until I said: "I left my computer here!" At which point the jig was up and he said: "Oh, ok. Yeah, take that home with you."
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