Some friends here visited the states at Christmastime and visited some of my favorite cities, including the one in which I lived for 4 years. By and large, they were underwhelmed, and my theory is that they simply didn't know where to go.
Thus, I've decided to start posting favorite places on occasion in the hopes the future visitors will heed my excellent advice.
This inaugural set of photos is from The Garage, one of Birmingham's premier bars that was supposedly voted one of the 10 bars worth traveling for by GQ magazine. But who knows, that might just be an urban legend.
Regardless, it's the perfect place to sit and chat with friends; engage in cute, flirty conversation or climb a tree, Zaccheus-style. However you choose to enjoy it, don't you dare miss it should you happen to pass through Birmingham, Alabama.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Life lessons
Of course it was never going to be that simple -- coming home and NOT crying. As Gloria would say, I'm one of those people who "has lots of feelings", and I was never going to be cool enough for a graceful transition into "just friends".
I appreciate that he's trying, but I hate him for making it seem so easy.
He told me before he left the first time that he'd end it if things got too hard. I should have ended it then, as that is clearly the wrong attitude for a successful long-term, not to mention partially long-distance, relationship. Instead, I cried.
In his arms.
I am SUCH A GIRL.
I appreciate that he's trying, but I hate him for making it seem so easy.
He told me before he left the first time that he'd end it if things got too hard. I should have ended it then, as that is clearly the wrong attitude for a successful long-term, not to mention partially long-distance, relationship. Instead, I cried.
In his arms.
I am SUCH A GIRL.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
feeling oddly intact
it's strange feeling happy again and thinking about being with other people. i'm starting to back away from all of those inherent questions about relationships and expectations and what you thought you had versus what actually was. at the end of the day, i think we loved each other, but love didn't exactly make us perfect partners. and whether it's a matter of timing or of me just not being that extra special person, i can't know.
as the great justin bobby is wont to say, "truth and time tells all."
but in the meantime, i'm not really a masochist. not even in the service of love. i want to be happy, and that may mean being happy alone or happy with someone else. either way works for me.
say it with me, for justin bobby...
what i've gotten used to, is that, for the foreseeable future, i won't be happy with him.
and that's surprisingly okay.
as the great justin bobby is wont to say, "truth and time tells all."
but in the meantime, i'm not really a masochist. not even in the service of love. i want to be happy, and that may mean being happy alone or happy with someone else. either way works for me.
say it with me, for justin bobby...
what i've gotten used to, is that, for the foreseeable future, i won't be happy with him.
and that's surprisingly okay.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
The caffeine hangover
Lately I've given up coffee in favor of a rapidly-expanding addiction to energy drinks. My current favorite is Power Mix, a Saudi-produced mix of effervescent goodness sold in a subtly-designed black can. Its light taste and herbal infusions make it seem good for me. I mean, ginseng! It's herbal. It's healthy. It's TOTALLY mitigating the fact that I can't stay away from my crack in a can.
Yesterday, I had the brilliant idea to mix my energy drink with soda water. Think about it: all that flavor with more effervescence. (And yes, I DO love the word "effervescence".) So I poured 1 part energy drink into a cup and mixed it with 1.5 parts soda. Then I realized why they sell that stuff in opaque cans: it looks like a fizzy urine sample. And yet, I kept drinking it.
Unfortunately, I had also eaten enough hummus and falafel for breakfast to feed the entire staff, so in my stomach there was now falafel and fizz. The fizz, oh my God the FIZZ.
This morning my stomach feels like my 5th grade science project, the one where you build a volcano replica, fill it with baking soda, top it with vinegar and stand back to watch the flowing chemical reaction. With nowhere to explode just yet, my volcano of a stomach is inflating faster than Nicole Ritchie.
The experience is, suffice it to say, MOST uncomfortable. In fact I might have stayed home on such an occasion, but that's not so feasible when you have stomach problems of the chronic variety. If I stayed home every time my stomach hurt, I'd have to put "couch potato" on my resume.
Yesterday, I had the brilliant idea to mix my energy drink with soda water. Think about it: all that flavor with more effervescence. (And yes, I DO love the word "effervescence".) So I poured 1 part energy drink into a cup and mixed it with 1.5 parts soda. Then I realized why they sell that stuff in opaque cans: it looks like a fizzy urine sample. And yet, I kept drinking it.
Unfortunately, I had also eaten enough hummus and falafel for breakfast to feed the entire staff, so in my stomach there was now falafel and fizz. The fizz, oh my God the FIZZ.
This morning my stomach feels like my 5th grade science project, the one where you build a volcano replica, fill it with baking soda, top it with vinegar and stand back to watch the flowing chemical reaction. With nowhere to explode just yet, my volcano of a stomach is inflating faster than Nicole Ritchie.
The experience is, suffice it to say, MOST uncomfortable. In fact I might have stayed home on such an occasion, but that's not so feasible when you have stomach problems of the chronic variety. If I stayed home every time my stomach hurt, I'd have to put "couch potato" on my resume.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Speaking of menstruation...
When I got back to the land of milk and honey and falafel, I realized what I'd left at home. Cotton balls. Not a big deal. Certainly they're available here.
But buying more required a trip to the store, and we all know how I love to procrastinate.
Faced with the prospect of stubborn yet chipped nail polish and no cotton, I searched for something else that would be durable and absorbent. What, I thought, would a self-respecting girl scout do in this situation?
Adult diapers.
Cut into strips, I used them for two days. Everything from nail polish remover to clinique clarifying lotion went on those strips. And it totally worked.
The adhesive backing was slightly problematic, but you should definitely try them in a pinch. Unless you're not the menstruating type. In which case, I suppose you're just SOL.
Tampons would, of course, be more logical, but I can't bear to reenact those commercials that demonstrate leakage-stopping lateral expansion.
But buying more required a trip to the store, and we all know how I love to procrastinate.
Faced with the prospect of stubborn yet chipped nail polish and no cotton, I searched for something else that would be durable and absorbent. What, I thought, would a self-respecting girl scout do in this situation?
Adult diapers.
Cut into strips, I used them for two days. Everything from nail polish remover to clinique clarifying lotion went on those strips. And it totally worked.
The adhesive backing was slightly problematic, but you should definitely try them in a pinch. Unless you're not the menstruating type. In which case, I suppose you're just SOL.
Tampons would, of course, be more logical, but I can't bear to reenact those commercials that demonstrate leakage-stopping lateral expansion.
Sleepy(less)ness and spots
On this trip I realized something very important about the way my body responds to world travel--my jet lag happens in the manner of a time-release tablet. Initially, I can't feel anything other than, of course, the residual stress from airport "security". Or, as I like to call it, "harassment". Then I keep going along, feeling a bit sleepy but fine, provided I incorporate a nap on day 2. By day 3, the tablet has fully released, and the coma kicks in.
Suddenly, I'm hit by the combined forces of narcolepsy and gravity, and my head WILL NOT come off the desk.
Unfortunately, it WILL come off the pillow every hour, on the hour, while I'm trying to sleep at night.
To make matters worse, the combination of 12-hour flights and menstruation means teenage-style spots. Let's just say I'm trying to avoid all mirrors.
Suddenly, I'm hit by the combined forces of narcolepsy and gravity, and my head WILL NOT come off the desk.
Unfortunately, it WILL come off the pillow every hour, on the hour, while I'm trying to sleep at night.
To make matters worse, the combination of 12-hour flights and menstruation means teenage-style spots. Let's just say I'm trying to avoid all mirrors.
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