Ms. Fix-It

In theory, it's nice to be the handy one in the house. In reality, it blows. Two Christmases ago, I installed some track lighting in my parents' basement. It was a bit jerry-rigged because the wiring and ceiling was not designed for this kind of fixture. A while ago one of the two lights came down. Which means that I have to fix it. And I wouldn't mind if I actually had the proper tools for the job. But instead of a cordless power drill and vise-grip (oh, and non ancient, crumbly ceiling tiles to try to anchor on), all I have to work with is a phillips-head screwdriver and crappy pliers (non-needlenose). Now I have some new screw anchors, but no way to drill them into the base or ceiling. Oh, and the fixture weighs about 20lbs, it's awkward, and I have to do it overhead. All of this in the same house where I don't rank a bed.

Well now I know what my parents are getting for Christmas next year - decent tools!

Blast from the past

A bit out of the blue, I got an email from an old friend. A shot in the dark to see if we might be in the same place at the same time long enough for a beverage. He and I worked for Virginia Shakespeare Festival in 2001, and I haven't seen him in so many years.

It was a blast to see an old friend. We talked about our respective PhD programs and sisters and such. Very holiday both in the chance to see old friends and the out-of-context-ness.


After coffee, he headed to a conference, and I made the mistake of trying to run errands at the mall. I park on the top level anyways, but clearly underestimated the insanity, to say nothing of the alien chi-chi of Tysons.

And while I still had the car (it sucks having to share), I got to see K, my mentor and local snark-partner. It's always good to catch up, especially if it is over coffee or cobbler!

on the tube: The Tudors 2.2

New Christmas tradition?

To celebrate the baby sister turning 21, the 5 of us went to the bar. Right now, this is perfect, since we are all hip to the bar scene, and the Dude is old enough to get into bars but not old enough to drink, giving us an automatic designated driver.

Originally, we were supposed to go out on Tuesday, the first night all 5 of us were in the same place. But it was not so organized, and we were all tired from our various projects of the day (work/baking/traveling/etc). Instead, we ended up at the bar after Christmas Eve dinner.

Fashionista found a pub a mile from home. It was surprisingly crowded. While I knew it wouldn't be empty, I didn't expect that many layers of humanity between me and the bartender. To celebrate the Fashionista's 21st, we did a bartender's choice of shot, that was impressively palatable. Then moved on to round 2. We scored 2 barstools and chatted amongst ourselves mostly, although Fashionista did have a boy buy her a drink. The same boy we asked to guess oldest/youngest. To his credit, he identified me as the oldest. I'm guessing it was my calm demeanor that gave it away. Whatever it was, I was vindicated.


I think the Dude felt a little awkward having to hang out in a bar and protect 4 women. And it's funny for us who see him as the baby in the family.

I'm not sure how I feel about it all. On one hand, it was fun to hang out like people and not siblings. On the other, there is something so wrong about piling into the minivan, on Christmas Eve, to get your drunk on. That said, it already feels like a new tradition.

Now I lounge on the couch, watch some guilty-pleasure TV with a mild buzz, grateful that Santa didn't come early.

My princess existence

For the past few days, I have been kickin' it princess style. I wake up at 2PM (I blame my vampire habits and my internal California clock). I loaf around the apartment until I get bored with that, and then I call NonSmokin' Fairy to pick my butt up. You see, I have no car here in Athens. And since I am squatting at Lil Sis' apartment (which she keeps toasty), I am up on a hill. It's too damn cold to walk far, especially if I have my knight in shining Prelude to schlep me around. My only objection to my princess existence is the ice. It is very un-princess-like to skid and crack your butt on the icy pavement. I have managed to stay vertical thus far.

But it's awesome! I am casually reading random books, not thinking too much about UCSB crap, just living in my happy hedonistic moment. Last night, I had pizza with a friend, and then we headed over to Rardon for Get Smart and baked goods (including super gooey-yummy caramel brownies that I helped with). The movie was appropriately silly and enhanced by the mild sugar-shock we all were in.

I guess I should think about putting on some non-jammers and be social. Oh, and find the earflap I KNOW I packed.

on Jango: Hot Chip - "I Don't Know the Half..."

Skippers is the new Gator

I have done more drinking, laughing, and geeky frivolity in the past couple of days than I have in weeks. (Like since the last time I was in Athens.)

NonSmokin' Fairy and I were pretty much chillin' and hating on the airlines when Riff recommended shooting some pool at Skippers. He and I got there first, chatted with the bartender and quickly became the only people in the bar. They have over a dozen beers on tap and a bartender who was willing to keep the bar open just for us theatre kids. AND he wants to re-institute Martini Night, since Gator is no longer. (There was much sadness all around, because that was our bar). Basically his logic is to support the kids who support the bar. Woot!


There was beer. And crappy pool. To the point that we had to invent a new game - Blue Ball (the 8 ball seemed magnetically attracted to the pockets). And that went downhill very fast as well all let our inner 12-year olds run loose. And between shots, we tried to gross each other out with horror stories about bugs. I will NEVER live in Texas, but I'm glad A. did, because his impression of a scorpion on his chest was priceless.

Last night, NonSmokin' Fairy and I had some lunch at BW3, only to return there later with some of the other designers for beverages. Closed that place out and rolled down to Tony's, and eventually Goodfellas. I was bummin' because O'Betty's is closed for break. But so much fun, drinking cranberry-vodkas (unlike the cranberry-rubbing alcohol I seemed to have ordered at Chocolate in SBA), gossipping about people and shows and general bullshit. Ah.

Now I am curled up under a voluminous comforter on Lil Sis' couch, watching her DVDs, eating a pumpkin spice Krispy Kreme. I should do some yoga or pushups or such, but it would kinda kil the hedonistic buzz.

Winter Break

12/13/8 7.14PM PST
It couldn’t come soon enough. And now that I am on a plane headed east, I will declare it officially winter break. If nothing else, I was running around too much yesterday to really consider it a break until now.

Wednesday, SuperK turned in our African Theater papers, because he is the social one at 8AM, and he needed to head to the building anyways. I got a couple hours sleep before meeting a professor for a meeting that might just be more flabberwhelming during/after than it even was before. When I got home from that (and returning one of the piles of books that SuperK and I had checked out for the paper), I scratched my head over the whole meeting, then proceeded to write my grading memo for Pedagogy. How do you grade yourself? Without using personal OR passive? For a self-described medieval teacher? But once that was sent off, SuperK and I could watch all the stuff on the DVR we had recorded, guilt-free as we hash over some of the final minutia of the quarter, including my meeting, the responses to the grading memos, and the impressive apathy in the apartment. And of course, some snarking about our least favorite people.

That night, another grad invited us over for dinner. She used to be a chef (frommagier to be specific); her research is food; she has pretty food art at her apartment. Needless to say her “simple,” and “just homestyle” was still some of the best stuff we had eaten in weeks. Chicken kebabs with homemade yogurt sauce, Armenian-style stuffed grape leaves, rice and salad. Yum! It was extra-special since the night before, SuperK and I were eating cold nachos as we were reading each other’s papers. It’s just fun to hang out with people, especially without the guilt or deadlines.

Today, SuperK drove me down to LAX, and my what a beautiful drive it is. Sparkling water, green mountains, palm trees. Oh and the damn 405. But SuperK is much more conscientious and punctual than I, so I got to the airport with plenty of time. I was more impressed how much stuff I managed to cram into my carry-on. What will be even more impressive – the pile of stuff I must have forgotten in order to pull that off.

Now that the quarter is over, perhaps I can try to play a little catch up with my blogging.

DMV Madness

I finally decided that it was time to change my residency to California. The election has passed (I wanted to vote in Virginia); tax time is coming up; and I have to renew my VA license if I don't replace it first. To say nothing of in-state/out-of-state tuition considerations for next year.

Now that I have my brain and time back after the end of quarter, I decided to just get that done. SuperK warned me about taking the written test, so I picked up the booklet. And today, I got up damn early to spend 2.5 hours and close to $200 not really accomplishing anything. It's extremely frustrating.

In an attempt to head off some of the inevitable DMV-BS, I came prepared with my completed paperwork, passport and ready to take the test. And it started just fine, but quickly went downhill. The woman at the first window was super-pleasant and helpful, gave me my number and checked my paperwork. Second window then asked where my titling paperwork was for my car (why get a CA license if you don't have a car to drive?). I tried to explain that I wasn't ready to move my car into CA yet, since my title still has the lienholder (the Civic is all paid off, thank you very much), and I am waiting for my student loan to come through so I can fix her so she can pass the Smog test. But the chyck insisted on pre-registering the car. Which translates to me giving her lots of money with nothing but a 60-day sticker and promise to come back to the DMV. Grr. She also charged me fees for not registering the car in CA within 20 days of crossing state lines, even though technically, I was not a resident until today (no lease, no job, etc).

Fine. It's not like I needed that cash or anything. To say nothing of the lovely fact I get to come back AGAIN!

At Window #3 I had another personable woman who was nice right up until she refused to believe that I was born in 1979. Like she checked both my VA license and my passport, then made her supervisor check. *sigh* While I appreciate looking young, I don't appreciate getting hassled by people about it (DMV, carded for EVERYTHING, including the occasional Rated-R movie). Extra burn - I was wearing my grown-up clothes that day. In the end, they accepted it, mostly because I was just about growling.

Next, they slide me over to take my picture. I briefly thought I had escaped the written test, but no such luck. That said, I totally aced it (even if people looked at me funny as I used my hands to visualize which direction to turn your wheels on an incline without a curb).

The ultimate insult came next. I had jumped through hoops, passed tests, paid money. But instead of a shiny new California license, I get a wad of half-sheets to carry around until my REAL license arrives in 2-8 weeks. WHAT?! And those papers that now take up half my wallet are my legal license. And to make that point, they punched a freakin' hole in my VA license!! Thanks guys. In case I don't have enough trouble convincing people it's not a fake because a) it's out of state and b) I apparently look 12, now I have to explain why I have a hole in my license. Ugh.

I hate that after all of that, nothing really got done. And after that experience, I probably have a really surly license pic.

Bad Blogger

Not that this page is ever really thrill a minute, but I feel bad for becoming such a slacker. I keep starting entries, but I never have the time or attention span to finish them. But my plan is that once I am done with this quarter, I can play a bit of catch-up.

In the meantime, check out Lolcats - which is entirely responsible for any shred of sanity I have left. (to get the full effect, you should play ABBA in the background)

Girl culture

In the past week, I have seen some really odd, if entertaining girl behavior. But this is what you get when you visit an all-women's college and I.V. any weekend-night.

The CORD conference last week was hosted by Hollins University, which is a lovely, if tiny space in the hills of Roanoke. A great size for the conference, as it was scenic, but manageable, without the sterility of a hotel. (The building with the dance studio looks like it is wearing a hat.) And I had nearly forgotten that at least at the undergraduate level, it is all-women.

Nothing like walking out of the Parlour with my coffee at 8.30AM to see a girl in the middle of the quad, dressed like GRAPES, dancing and handing out brownies. Later that day, there was a girl singing "Barbie Girl" loudly and acapella on the steps of Cocke Hall. Like all schools, Hollins has its own set of unique traditions, which were only explained to me after the fact. Apparently, this is the annual Ring Night, where the senior girls give class rings to junior girls, but only after a dose of hazing.


Last night, on my way to the Co-op, I saw the ultimate sight. It was a girl with her hair in loose, but nonetheless "done" curls, a sparkly strapless dress, and (mercifully) matching flipflops, pushing a keg on a dolly down the bike lane. I tried to take a picture, but I was so busy laughing my ass off and trying not to fall off my bike or hit her, that I was not able. I mean, I admire her total blase ownership of the absurdity and willingness to move the keg herself instead of getting some meathead to do it, but still funny. It made the gaggle of girls in short black dresses and silver pumps just pale in comparison.

I'm not sure which was more disturbing/funny, but I sure don't want Jeannette to punch me in the uterus for not attending the Hollins game.

(apparently Odes and Top 10 Lists are big at Hollins)

on Hold: BN.com customer service

Sample class

As part of my Teaching Theatre Teaching class, we each had to teach one play as a sample class. It has been interesting to watch my peers experiment with different styles and approaches, some more successfully than others. (A sick part of me was very sad to miss Zero's train wreck of a sample class, but at least my friends took some good notes.) Going last, I have had a chance to watch everyone else. And offer directing notes.

I got back to CA and realised that I had to plan my class which was 2 days away instead of next week. As of last night, I hadn't even picked out my play! Originally, I had signed up for Miracle Worker, but changes in schedule combined with my conference, prevented me from it. Instead, I chose Tenure. (I question the legitimacy of a play that has NEVER been produced, is published by a company that accepts unsolicited scripts and was written by someone who teaches and writes as a film/culture critic, but has never left home.) On one hand, I really wanted to just teach the play instead of making it a pawn in my larger agenda or using it to offer a gimmick. On the other, I thought of a cool context. Largely grounded in my own mixed feelings toward the tenure process (I love the idea of guaranteed employment, but often hate the people who get it and the lazy asses they become as a result.) So I framed the class in terms of Advocacy, for the play, the ethics of hiring processes.

I wish I could say that teaching makes me nervous, but at best it might elevate the heart rate. Today, I got to teach, with impressive success. I offered statistics, worked with personal experience, and actually had a discussion going! Got some really good feedback, mostly on my inclusiveness of participants and roadmap. I don't know that I had an exact roadmap, but I had objectives and lots of questions. I felt like I handled difficult students well, and fielded all of the questions/comments effectively. My professor called me out on the use of personal. Dumbass asked about how frustrating it was when people's comments veered off my roadmap (he was the major violator, followed shortly by Zero), and I managed to come up with something sufficiently elegant (there can be interesting things on the side of the road that you stop or slow down for, but you are still headed in the same direction.)

I get such a charge from teaching, and based on the feedback, especially the unusually-effusive Professor, I just might be good at it. Woot! Maybe I really am heading in the right direction!

Evening observations

Visiting the East Coast for a few days, besides restoring some sanity, puts weather skies in an interesting perspective.

While the West Coast does some gorgeous sunsets, if you really want a pretty twilight, go to the east coast. Purple just doesn't quite work as well in California. But you don't get the reflection off the ocean. Trade-off


Also, walking back from the last Saturday session, I experienced the epitome of autumnal and collegiate. The air is cool, almost crisp, and the colors were spot on. Columns, pumpkins, and a breeze (that has now turned into a howling wind).

on iTunes: Celia Cruz - "Azucar Negra"

CORD

My first real conference is shaping up to being quite an interesting experience. I can't say this necessarily defies my expectations, but actually being here feels different. The words that keep coming to mind - fraught and bifurcated.

The theme of the CORD conference is Dance and Global Feminisms, which has brought in a really diverse group of presenters. So I have sat in on sessions about Brazilian samba, the Thriller YouTube video of Filipino prisoners, among others. I have gone to quite a few sessions about pedagogy from the dance perspective. Met some really interesting people. Here is what I have learned so far:

• I think I have found the home for my tango research. There was one whole session today analyzing social dance in larger contexts. Holy crap!
• But at heart, I am still a theatre kid. Attending the jam last night really confirmed that.
• Which puts me in a weird place in my work. I know that that technically my degree would be in "Theater & Dance," but it feels more like a concession or something. The only connection I have really noticed between the two is the ampersand.
• The UCSB theatre theory people have enough separation (and for some, contempt) for theatre practice. I can only imagine trying to force them to talk to dancers.
  
• In case I wasn't already thinking it, transfer is now a recurring word in my vocabulary. Then again, I don't know where, since a) I am not the same kind of dancer as all the rest of them, b) I do love theatre and c) who's to say it would be any better/worse. There are some really exciting looking programs out there, I just don't know about practicalities and fit.
• There's a lot of tension about the relationship with technology especially in the live/body field of dance.

Overall, I feel like I have a much better vocabulary to discuss my research, and ways to communicate with scholars. And I feel much more justified in my research, and less like the novelty act in the theatre department.

(sorry for posting the photo after-the-fact.
A session about dance pedagogy.
I love how dancers naturally gravitate to the floor - all the better for stretching.)

UPDATED: Opening night etiquette

Tonight, I attended the opening night of Reckless, mostly to support SuperK. I found the difference in the opening night environment between OU and UCSB really striking. At OU, all of the theater kids come out to represent. They are all dressed to impress. It feels more like a party. At UCSB, anyone who does show up is late, in cut-off shorts and hoodies, texting on their pricey phones. It was really frustrating that the show started so late without apology, to accommodate the students who have been taught that late is still OK for live theater. I disliked playing the whole damn song, which felt too long, screwing up the pace from the get-go.

Reckless as a play is just not that well-written, but it is a cute concept. Centered around the event-ness of Christmas, lots of crazy coincidences. Reckless aspires to be David Lindsay-Abaire, who pulls off zany much better. There were some cute moments, and SuperK really injected great energy into the show. But I was just underwhelmed by the BFA actors. The specialized training I saw was "MUG MUG MUG." These actors are SO desperate for approval, it's distracting. (They are the kind of actors who think every moment of their life should be clapped for.) Don't make me laugh; just make some good choices.

(Your Mother or Your Wife with SuperK as the skeazy gameshow host.)

I got stuck sitting next to Dumbass who thought it was just the best thing ever. He's so cute as a cheerleader, but he seems entirely devoid of critical thought.

But it was really fun to drink margaritas with SuperK and Mev at Chilis and catch up on show gossip.

Halloween postscript

1. SuperK astutely observed that Halloween tends to be a super-insane affair at schools with the quarter system. It nicely coincides with the middle of the quarter, when we DON'T get a Fall Break.
2. Additionally, he said that the whole thing was ALMOST worth it when he saw some kid run outside to puke, only to turn around and slip on it.
   
3. Who knew that Halloween is a long-weekend event with all day parties? I know I didn't.
4. Halloween at IV this year was nearly twice as populated this year, but students complained that they were "under surveillance" with the proportionately doubled police presence.
5. I found a Rainbow Brite costume that is damn awesome, and if it gets marked down any further, I will require people to be my Sprites next year.
6. It makes me miss the clever costumes of Chicago (breathalyzer anyone?), as well as its attendant snark.

Dentists can be fun too

While I will never get excited about going to the dentist, or dropping a C-note for each cavity, the UCSB dentists I have had lately have definitely made the visits more entertaining.

The GSHIP insurance may require a steep co-pay for prescriptions, but it does include dental. For the first time since I graduated from college, I went to the dentist. Because of the permanent retainer I have, the cleaning was so nice. Also nice - talking to a normal person. She managed to squeeze me in even after I ended up 10 minutes late. She was originally from Ohio, friendly but still productive, and she was just as happy to find another person from Ohio.

Sadly, she found 4 cavities. Not pleased, but they were all in an early state, and mostly in really obvious places. And if in the 7 years since the last visit, that's the extent of damage, I can deal.

On Wednesday, I went into knock out 3 of them. And the banter between the dentist and hygienist was so entertaining, I barely noticed the whole cavity thing. Dentist is two weeks out on her bachelorette party, which will be at this awesome Pan-Asian restaurant up in SF that apparently involves drag queens. The conversation drifted to other bachelorette parties they had planned or attended. With all the stripper horror stories. Because which is worse - the male stripper who looks like an older version of Richard Simmons or who looks like the brother of the bride? Try not laughing with that much equipment in your face. Because it was the day after election, there was much Obama excitement.

They are really funny, but how do you find a way to socialize with your dentists?

Modeling

For reasons I haven't really figured out, I find myself modeling on more than one occasion. When I was an undergrad, I almost got burned by it, when I discovered that a picture of me was in the art gallery attached to the theatre and directly behind the AIA table where all the classicists were congregating.

Tonight, I did a pinch-hit modelling for a friend of mine from many lives ago, who is now at Brooks for photography. A product shot for headphones. He knew exactly what he was looking for, which made part of it really easy. Not so easy - supporting my head off the side of a table for any length of time. And I realised that I am either a really good model or a really bad one. I am great at being posed. (tilt down, arm here, etc.) Not so good at improvising poses on my own. Fortunately the other model was, which just gave me more time to play Guitar Hero.

I think it is all part of my weird relationship with theatre. I am not an actress, but a director, an organizer/manager. Improv makes me even more awkward. But I love dancing and competing and performance. Maybe it's the safety of the choreography or being able to cover my ass with the presence of at least one other person.

A perk

Sometimes living in Santa Barbara isn't the dream that it looks like. More hours spent holed up reading theory than basking on the beach.

But sometimes it really is that cool. Like when SuperK and I have event meals along the water.

Sunday, we celebrated the fact that both of us had the same day off. SuperK wanted to go back to this one place on Las Positas, and it was pretty awesome. Brunch at the Boathouse on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, tucked into a cliff along the dog beach, with lovely wait-staff scenery (both SuperK and I left our numbers - choose your own adventure!). And the food wasn't bad either! Vanilla bean french toast with strawberry butter and applewood bacon.


Today, I took SuperK out to Sushi Go-Go for his birthday, which overlooks the Harbor. The menu had some cool offerings, plus we got to watch them sling a tugboat over water. It was a tasty lunch, in perfect weather - a great diversion for a Wednesday!


Sadly, not every day is a picnic. In the meantime, I have to get my scenic snacks by smuggling cinnamon almonds and dried cranberries onto the 8th floor of the library.

on the tube: House on the DVR.

Halloween costume: Grumpy Old Fart

Halloween is only fun when you have a group to prowl with and a quiet place to go home to. Otherwise, Halloween is a world-class pain in the ass.

SuperK and I spent this evening trying to run away from the dorm and its attendant bullshit. We wanted to time going out for food so as to optimize the escape. He had a party to wear his Citizen V costume to, looking so damn creepy, like he walked straight out of my nightmares. Although it was damn special when he was trying pieces on, after we gave the wig a trim.

(because even Citizen V has to text too)

I felt really lame, and super old-fart-y, because I decided to go to my nice quiet office to get work done. Then I made SuperK pick me up and listen to my "Why do all girls have to dress like sluts" rant. Because seriously, why? I saw a M/F couple in matching Incredibles costumes. He was fully covered, complete with foam pecs/shoulders. She had the top, plus little black bloomers (emphasis on little), with black nylon thigh highs and stilettos. In case the slut-factor was not sufficient, the fact of the matter is she didn't even look like Elasti-Girl, which was extra obvious, when his costume looked so good. And Halloween brings out the Tim Gunn in me, because I find it just trashy when girls pad around in thigh highs, stopping every few steps to hike them up because the girls don't believe in garter belts (which straight boys assure me are sexy), or choosing shoes they can actually walk in for any period of time. Besides looking super-tacky, it's dangerous with all the broken beer bottles.

Then SuperK and I got stopped trying to park in our lot. I was happy they were checking, and thus keeping out the random kids who didn't belong there. But it was a little weird that they started in on the "no overnight-visitors allowed". The only thing weirder was when they assumed that I was SuperK's out-of-town girlfriend. I pretty much just leaned over and assured him that 1. we were grad students and 2. he's gay. Besides, if he was gonna bring home some random girl, why would he bring home a nerd in a muppets t-shirt, 2nd hand pants and a rainbow sweater, when he could have Hoochy *insert occupation here*?

In retrospect, the noise levels could have been much worse, and they did put the contientious RC on call, instead of the slack-ass mooch getting free rent to answer the phone and tell me to deal with it my own damn self, even if it meant calling the police.

on iTunes: "A Man Called Sun" - the Verve

My weird habits

• I am addicted to information. I go into a mini-panic whenever I don't have my phone on me, or perish the thought, I don't have internet. it's part of why i got a laptop - because I constantly have stupid little questions that will irk me until i get an answer. having portable search is way better. for example, I can't watch a movie on TV without checking imdb at least once. so instead of jumping up and missing something, I would just bring the laptop in. Learned that trick at Yellow House.
• Along with this addiction to information, I love learning new things. I can easily spend the better part of an hour clicking through links that lead me to MPIs and the awesomeness of St. Vitus (patron saint of dance because of of the apraxia not the other way around, also performers and oversleepers and Prague).
• So in that sense, it's great to be in grad school. on the other, it makes it so hard to commit to a topic or have the attention span to focus on it. that's the real reason it takes me so damn long to do anything - because I am constantly interrupted with random queries.
• Also - I hate the look people give me when I try to explain my interest in weird diseases. I hate apologizing for being interested in something entirely unrelated to theatre-dance, and something most of the people I talk to know nothing about. grr.
  

Isla Vista

Quick local geography lesson:
University of California Santa Barbara is actually located in Goleta. Within Goleta, there is a non-incorporated neighborhood on the edge of the beach, called Isla Vista. Mostly, this is a concentration of undergrad party people. (This is where all the frats are, along with the only places around that are open 24/7). El Colegio marks the north end of IV, and I live on the other side.

On one hand, I love being able to walk to the student slacker mass, and other emergency needs. And they have an impressive beer distributor. It's the only strip of bars within walking distance. Makes is really to know where NOT to live.

On the other - what a trainwreck. Halloween is reported to be totally off-the-hook here. Not just drunken Court Street in Athens. Emails from the university suggest this event is not just crazy, but potentially dangerous. The central park in IV will host an emergency first-aid tent, which doesn't just dole out band-aids and ice packs, but also provides for victims of alcohol poisoning AND sexual assault! Yikes. This wasn't just the "know your resources" kind of thing. But the emails also suggest that the university is more interested in collecting fines for possession than protecting students. Charming.

That said, part of me would love to live on the bluffs. But not enough to deal with rampant drunkenness, or paying a shitload of money to SHARE a bedroom. And there are some pretty parks, and prettier street names (Sueno, Abrego, Sabado Tarde), all of which confirm its emphasis on leisure.

Next week, I am so doing the sunset yoga though!