the pacific northwest

though i have been fortunate to travel in america as far west as the coast of california and as far north as northern vermont, i have never visisted the summation of those two directions, namely the pacific northwest. it may seem odd, then, that i also happen to be obsessed with a corner of the nation i have never actually witnessed. in my heady teen years, i decided that it was seattle or bust after high school. i had put together in my mind a veritable wonderland of water, evergreens, towering peaks, gray skies, coffee shops. i would head there and start a really awesome indie rock band, maybe dye my hair green, and paint pictures with other likeminded souls. those who had visited seattle, like my sister, my cousin, friends, etc. said the place looked like it was right up my alley. so it was decided. that is where i would go.

my college application process followed the logic of pinning the tail on the donkey. so i applied to the university of puget sound,located in tacoma (for some reason not to the university of washington in seattle), among ten other places. i was accepted, but ultimately turned down the offer once i was informed school outside the lovely state of north carolina would not be funded by the higher ups. so i shrugged and told myself after college would be the time-- the apple in front of the dumb horse.

now, i am not sure if i will ever go up there. i almost don't want to. i am afraid. i am afraid that this place i had felt so strongly about, had constructed so well in mind would not meet my lofty expectations. i would get up there and it would be just like other places, i wouldn't start a band and i would work a desk job or whatever.

i may never get to seattle, but i guess i can always think of what it would be like to go there. i can always tell myself that one day when things are different, i will march that yellow brick road just like lewis & clark did and look down from the spaceneedle and see a kingdom of dreary perfection where i will write books and cure all the world's ills.

i think these kinds of places are important. somewhere that you may never really see but can imagine and create to be however you want it to be. maybe its the old grass is greener on the other side kind of thing. but i guess it's not so bad.

radio free n.c.

i don't listen to the radio much, and that is by choice. on most stations, it seems like an endless cycle of overplayed, inoffensive music followed by irritating disc jockeys, screaming car ads, and lame-o station identifications. it wasn't always this way. growing up, i (unwillingly) listened to every oldies station eastern north carolina had to offer, and i actually learned to enjoy it. later on, i used to do homework listening to 96 rock every night (when it came in well all the way from raleigh). so i thought radio was cool-- i could hear new (at least to me) music and didnt have to go buy cds.

i don't know what happened, but at some point, some company bought some other companies and became like one gargantuan one, radios dials got shifted and we ended up with one station that played "more than a feeling" on repeat and of course 83 country stations.

so i got to work at davidson's radio station, which was awesome, cause i could play all this crap and make others listen to it (supposedly). so i figured i could do the same at carolina. well, i basically got laughed out of the room in my interview with the station there because so many of the bands i talked about were "just white people with guitars." so oh well.

i guess it is hard to find a happy medium among all people's tastes and interests, but i think we'd all be better off with more choices in radio stations (at least for those of us without satellite stuff). variety is the spice of life or whatever, so that would be a good policy to follow. not that i want to listen to mongolian post-polka played by blind children with sticks all the time, but i mean, there is a lot of good stuff out there and it'd be cool if it got played.

but nobody asked me.

feeding frenzy

so i watch the food channel. a lot. so you think i would be able to cook at least something more complex, more gourmet than chef boyardee and turkey sandwiches. well i cant. and tonight proves it. i hit my max for food channel watching this morning and actually became inspired to make what i saw on the television. just buy the stuff, follow the instructions, and by some unknown magic i would see and taste the beauty i had seen so easily devised on the tube. sounds simple enough. so i went to the grocery store, picked up ingredients (lots of stuff i had never bought before) and patiently waited until it was time to do something with them. that's where the happy part of the story ends and gives way to bleeding hands, beet juice stains, herb overdoses, and that nagging gagging feeling.

perhpas beet and goat cheese salad and grilled zucchini wraps with goat cheese and herbs was not the best place for me to start my foray into cooking. but it sounded good. i will spare you the rest of the details, but suffice it to say, i am currently waiting for my stomach to stop churning, i have bandages on my fingers, and my hands are stained from both beet and blood. if anyone has any recipes that are easy, preferably that do not involve chopping parsley or cooking beets or anything with goat cheese, it would be much appreciated.

maybe there is life after college (it's lame)

i don't know if it was just me, but for some reason the day after college graduation i thought i might die. perhaps it had to do with the fact my body was having trouble recovering from a four-day alcohol-induced fiasco. still, i felt like i was waiting around for a bomb to go off--hands over my ears, scanning the horizons for signs of my imminent demise. but, surprisingly, nothing happened. i didn't keel over. my house didn't explode. but i still wasn't convinced, even when i walked into a real adultworld job a week later.

i expected something to change. i was wearing a suit, i had a sweet manbag, and i had a desk and all: i'm different, i'm taller, i'm grown up. heck, i got my own health insurance and business cards. wow.

but of course, the inevitable happened. people asked what grade i was in, folks on the phone told me they needed to speak to a "responsible adult." then there is the time in the elevator. i happened to think i was looking quite sharp that day, but this older lady gets in, the door closes and she looks at me funny. "so. what school do you go to?" great. again. "actually, i just graduated from carolina." "oh," she says, "well maybe you should grow some facial hair or something." then the elevator dings, we arrive at floor 3 and she gets her elderly ass out of the lift. alone in the glass elevator i stare at my reflection and realize, yeah, maybe i should grow some facial hair (if only....). maybe i'm not really an adult. maybe not much has changed; i mean i still listen to crappy emo-ish music, i still watch abc family, i still wear my hair too long, and i still don't know what the hell i am doing. and that's okay. because dammit, i'm 23 not 44.

but the point of all this is twofold: graduating college does not equal immediate death (thought it may be lurking around every corner) and you are not a real adult at this ridiculous age, at least not yet. so in a lot of ways age 23 is like age 13, where everything was awkward, new-ish, confusing ("am i still a kid?"), etc. but the good part is, i'm not breaking out in zits, my voice isn't cracking (well, most of the time), and i don't play the trumpet in the parker middle school band.

so i guess the awkward, clumsy stuff is okay 'cause it is likely (hopefully) followed by years of awesomeness. and i can live with that. as long as i don't need braces.

the firstpost

hello.

i am honestly not sure the point of all this is. my best guess is it is the result of an idling, narcissistic brain, but oh well. i do happen to enjoy writing and since pencilspenspaperbooks seem to be fading away, i guess this is a valid (modern) medium. i do have thoughts and opinions and things and i shall share them here. but then again, i may be the only person that reads this, which is fine. the key is tricking myself into believing i am validated by expressing myself in this way. but enough garble.

i can discuss/feel passionately about the following topics: music, people, zoo animals, funny stories, buffalo wings, the food network, humid summer days, unc basketball/football, eastern europe, reality shows, floats (both parade and aqua), complaining, and leather jackets.

so maybe i will talk about these things. maybe i won't. it happens.

but yeah, thanks for reading and let me know what you think (unless you have something mean to say because i am fragile).

P.S. Rest in peace, Skip Prosser.