Day 9: Rolling to victory

As I told my friends in an email after Sunday's DRAMATIC Carolina win over Clemson, I have decided that it will not be carbs or jaywalking that kills me, but a Carolina basketball game. (Just hopefully not for 60 or 70 years.)

Luckily, my heart got a rest during Wednesday's game versus UNC-Asheville, which I watched at the Crystal City Sports Pub,with my friends, on the third level, sitting down, eating chicken fingers and fries.
I have previously watched a game here, but it was an exhibition, downstairs, standing up ,crowded around one small TV because the Redskins were playing. So, this really is a new thing.

Watch one of the best parts of the night below:


Though, I have to say, I feel sorry for George. My friends and I were discussing it, and at 7'7", think of what the poor guy must have to deal with. Can't fit in cars, probably has to put two beds together, having to lug 360 pounds up and down the court, always the last to finish, probably never finds jeans that fit in the waste and length. (Which I totally sympathize with.) I just want to hug him, even though I'd only make it to his knees.

Day 8: Wise men say, only fools rush in

Now, for no particular reason, and maybe just by accident, I'm not a big Elvis fan. I guess I was never really exposed to his music and just don't seek it out. But as a note on my History Channel "On this Day" calendar informed me it was his birthday, I thought I should do something new in honor of that. So I bought "Suspicious Minds" and "Can't Help Falling in Love" on iTunes, and then headed over to Elvis.com to do some exploring in honor of the King's day of birth.

I read his biography, some of his quotes, watched a video on the Graceland holiday decorations, and read the informative FAQ section. I watched a virtual tour of a few rooms in Graceland, including a living room with a 15-foot couch! (And Daddy thought keeping up with the pillows on our old furniture was hard.)

Finally, I left him a birthday message on the virtual wall. I may not be a huge fan, but I can certainly appreciate the heartfelt messages left by people of all ages from all over the world.

"I ain't no saint, but I've tried never to do anything that would hurt my family or offend God...I figure all any kid needs is hope and the feeling he or she belongs. If I could do or say anything that would give some kid that feeling, I would believe I had contributed something to the world."
-Elvis Presley

Day 7: The price is wrong, Bob.

I'm not a huge "The Price is Right" fan. I'm not good at it. I hate cooking and grocery shopping so I fail at those pricing games. I have no idea how much a new car cost nowadays, nor am I too familiar with the asking price for an armoire. If it involved the prices of take-out meals or clothes from H&M, I could do it.

Nevertheless, today I watched part of "The Price is Right" with Drew Carey as the new host. I know he's been hosting for a few months now, but I never got around to watching it. He does ok, I suppose. He didn't really seem that into it, though. Kind of like he was above Plinko. And nobody is above Plinko.
I think I'll stick with my re-runs of "Gilmore Girls" when I'm home in the morning, but it's good to get outside my comfort zone every now and then.

Day 6: A Spoonful of Sugar

There are certain things in life I have just grown to accept that I will never be able to do. For instance, roll my tongue into a tube. Twirl a basketball on my finger. Understand the stock market. Not give a mean look to anyone I see wearing a Duke hat or shirt. Hang a spoon off my nose. Until tonite, when I balanced a spoon on my nose - three times!
I think if nothing else, this project, and the ridiculous pictures that result from it, will make me less easily embarrassed.

Day 5: I lost my poor meetball, when somebody sneezed

I used to think that the meatball sub from Subway was the best thing to happen to the sandwich since honey mustard. But since eating the meatball aurora sandwich from Cosi, I've learned how foolish that was. Because the meatball aurora could kick the meatball sub's butt any day of the week. And do so with fresh basil, rich provolone, and "a hint of alfredo sauce."

I've had lunch at Cosi before, but today I did so by myself, in a cushy seat by the window, after which I sat and wrote on Francisco, my new computer, and people-watched.(Not my actual Cosi, taken from the web site.)

I also saw my first ever ad on a bus for Anderson Cooper 360. It was pretty awesome. But I was too shy to take a picture, so here is my interpretation:

Day 4: What is art?

When it comes to art, I like what I like and I don't like what I don't like. I can never remember period and movement names, and who goes where. I can tell the difference between Van Gogh and Monet, but not usually Michaelangelo or Raphael. I like art that makes me think, that reminds me of something else, or just evokes something in me I wasn't expecting. And if they're pretty. :-)

There are a few paintings that I can pinpoint as the first pieces of art I ever took an interest in, circa fifth/sixth grade. One of which is Hopper's "Nighthawks," which I remember in a literature book in sixth grade:
Today I saw this painting, as well as others, at the National Gallery of Art in a Hopper exhibition. I also saw an exhibition of J.M.W. Turner's work, a favorite of mine since viewing this painting, "The Fighting Temeraire tugged to her Last Berth to be broken up," at the National Gallery in London:
(This was not on view at our gallery.)

Hopper's had vibrant colors depicting very American scenes. Turner's were detailed and majestic, with some amazing landscapes. Examples of Turner's work: Time Magazine Slideshow. Examples of Hopper's work: Museum Syndicate's Gallery.

Day 3: Can I add this to my resume under "newspaper experience"?

As any good (former) news editorial journalism student knows, newspaper readership has been on the decline for the past ten years or so. People prefer to get their news from the internet or cable, or as it sometimes seems if you watch "Jaywalking" on the "The Tonight Show," get no news at all. I think no topic was discussed more during my journalism school tenure than how we would fare in a newspaperless society. (Always a cheery discussion in a group of future print journalists.)

So in light of that bleak future, I grabbed a piece of newspaper while it's still around, and made a newspaper hat. I thought they always looked kind of cool in movies, and thanks to Wikihow, made my own.

In progress
Ta da!
Modeling it on Paddington. Looks like he could live in it instead of wear it.

Slight adjustment when trying it on Audrey, my build-a-bear. I think she looks like a Pope.

Day 2: Cheesesteaks, cheeseburgers, cheesegoodness

It's hard to want to do anything, new or not, when I have a mountain of clothes and gifts to pack to go back to D.C. tonite, or when the wind outside is so fierce it forces your brother's truck into the next lane while he's driving. (I'm not so sure I believe that, I think he was just too busy singing the wrong words to a CCR song.) Nevertheless, today I went to the Andy's in Princeton for lunch.

I try to go to Andy's at least once when I'm home, usually with Joey, but I've never been to the one in Princeton. It was smaller than the others in town, and not as coolly decorated, but the food's the same and that's all that matters. I love going to a restaurant that got its start in Goldsboro, but has now spread all over Eastern North Carolina.

And, our waitress just happened to be named Bonnie. I never meet people in my age range with my name, so it was nice.

Day 1: Carolina Girls Welcome 2008

Welcome 2008, welcome 24, welcome day one of my mission to do one new thing each day for the rest of the year. To start it off, I ushered in a much-needed new year with cheap champagne, Anderson Cooper, and a new dress. More importantly, I spent New Year's in Chapel Hill/Durham with three of my best friends. Since entering the "real world," spending time together as a group is a too rare occurrence. But that doesn't matter when there are stories to be told and multiple group pictures to be attempted.
Any year that starts with laughing until you cry, surely will be a good one.
Happy New Year!

Not to be a Grinch but...

Note to all public transportation users in the D.C. metro area: that solid, albeit boney object that your elbow/bag/foot/arm/entire side of your body is repeatedly hitting, is ME. Yes, allowances are made in tight quarters at rush hour. The personal bubble area is significantly smaller, occasional bumps and bruised toes are the norm. But when you consistently hit someone, keep your deadweight arm on their lap for an ENTIRE bus ride, something is wrong.

And while we are at it, as I continue inching myself away from you, trying to meld into the window to get you out of my bubble, do NOT follow me. I'm doing it to get away from you, not to give you more room.

But on the upside, my morning bus driver gave everyone a peppermint this morning. City life isn't all bad.

One more week until Christmas. Four more days to home...