Paint a Flower!

So, just yesterday, my friend Marcia and I went down to the coolest, hippest place in Vermillion--the Coffee Shop Gallery. We both had a long week of grading student essays and we decided to go downtown for a little relaxation. OK, our real intention was to go to the Main Street Pub and drink a pitcher of Miller Lite, but we thought we'd be all English-y and hang out at the coffee shop for awhile. Too bad neither of us wear berets or chain-smoke or can hold an itelligent conversation about anything besides kitties or rainbows--then we'd be super cool and English-y. Sigh, we're just not edgy enough, I guess.

Anywho, after reading the wedding section in the Sunday NY Times (where we cooed over a gay couple who are both richer than God) and waiting three thousand years for Yahoo! games to load on my mac laptop (I know, productive), we stepped out into the late afternoon sun. Then we saw the sidewalk-chalked letters: Paint A Flower! with big blocky arrows pointing the way. We followed the arrows, turned the corner, and saw the owner of the shop propped up on a ladder, painting flowers. She told us to come on over and paint one, too! It was fabulous. I love this town.

Community art.

Marcia painted a lovely pink star-like flower with a happy yellow dot in the center and I tried to paint a hollyhock. I think it kinda looks like a hollyhock. An eight-year-old was showing us up pretty badly with her illustration of tiger lilies. At the end of the day, the entire wall was filled--an entire flower garden crawling up, up, up.

Love it.

And then we went to the Pub and did indeed drink a pitcher of Miller Lite. With green olives.

Hoo-ah.

Super Wal-Mart: A Poem

OK, so ridiculous things always seem to happen to me. Things that leave me asking myself, "Am I taking crazy pills or what is the deal here?" Here is a poem about one such absurdity that happened quite awhile ago.

When,
in the Sioux City Super Wal-Mart,
a pack of slouchy, angsty teenagers
threw a greasy box of condoms
(Magnums, size large)
into my already overflowing cart,
and then giggling,
scattered like ants,
I wanted to yell something clever:

"I was going to get these anyway!"
(I haven't bought a condom in years)
or
"My man needs extra large!"
(I don't have a man)
or
"Shouldn't you hooligans be in juvey?"
(When did I get so old)

It took me 2o minutes
to find the Health and Beauty section
and
another 20 mintues to find
the condom aisle.
In Sioux City, stockers stock
condoms next to deodorant.
I, for one, am grateful for this decision.
At least now I know,
chances are
that in Sioux City,
good-smelling people
are having protected sex.

Today was a Fine Day; Tomorrow may be an Orange Vest Day

Today was a fine day. It started out with some old-time religion (well, not that old-time) and ended with a lovely dinner with two fab friends. Bridge and I were invited to K. and R.'s house for homemade pizza and salad. Bridge found a bottle of merlot in the trunk of her civic (ya gotta love moving), so we biked on over with that. K. has just started law school, where one of her professors counts people as absent if they leave to go to the bathroom or get a tissue. Nice, huh? R. teaches high school English over in Gayville (not even trying to be funny). It's so nice to be around good (educated) friends again. In fact, R. and I got into a spirited discussion about the "heroics" of Beowulf the other night. God, that sounds super dorky. Anywho, today was a keeper.

And tomorrow. Tomorrow may be an orange vest day. OK, so I bought this orange vest at a second hand store last February in Madison, WI. And I have not taken it off since. I frickin' love this stupid vest, more than perhaps anything else in the world. I wear it everywhere and with everything. Am I camping? I better take my vest. Ooh, it's a little chilly out. Better wear my vest. Have I woken up today? Yay! Vest time! And yet ... I am a teacher now. I should probably look the part. So far this semester, I've been all business--button-downs, pin-striped pants, skirts. But the forecast calls for rain and a temp in the low 40s tomorrow. And I really wanna wear my vest! Should I do it? Should I wear this ridiculous, orange, 2nd-hand, Sears Roebuck circa 1972 vest when I teach tomorrow?

I think I just answered my own question.

Things I Wish I Would Just Do, For God's Sake:

1. Buy a freakin' umbrella.

2. Stop telling people the price of everything I own.
ie "I like your shirt, Lindy."
"Thanks, Target clearance, $6.49."

3. Lose the way I lose my temper.

4. Start a basketball city league with people I do not know.

5. Stop smoking because I "only smoke when I drink," yet I (perhaps) go out for a drink quite often, and I would really rather not smoke anymore.

6. Pierce my nose.

7. Stop thinking that soon, everyone will be on to me, and then I'll have no place to go.

8. Cook a killer beef stroganoff. I'm close, not quite there yet.

9. Be braver.

Good Eats

So, I don't wanna brag or anything, but I've been places. Oh yeah. I've lived all over North Dakota, the southest corner of South Dakota, and the middle of Wisconsin. When it comes to exotic travel, I'm your girl. Riiiight. OK, maybe not quite exotic, but wherever I am, one thing I love to do is sample the local cuisine. Who doesn't? Anywho, if you are ever in any of the places below, these are the restaurants/bars/gas stations/cafes to visit.

Belfield, North Dakota.
Trapper's Kettle Restaurant. This little slice of heaven is located in the SW corner of North Dakota. Try the scones--delish. And the chicken dumpling soup, which is a Sunday tradition. Across the street from Trapper's Kettle is SuperPumper. They make a fab Potato Grande. Trust me.

Minot, ND.
Sorry--there are no good places to eat in Minot. I spent four years there for school and not one place comes to mind. Except maybe The Roll'N Pin. The French Dip was pretty good.

Fargo, ND.
The Hotel Donaldson. This downtown bar/hotel/restaurant is totally cool and funky. A little taste of big city life in North Dakota. Steaks, seafood, all that good stuff.

Madison, WI.
Ella's Deli. This cultural landmark serves a pastrami sandwich bigger than your face and is decked out with every kind of childhood toy/gadget you could imagine. Be sure to ride the carousel!

Milwaukee, WI.
Nick's Gyros. For authentic gyros and some kick-ass Greek fries, this is your place. I don't do lamb personally (not for any ethical reason, i just think it's gross), but I had a pretty awesome burger there.

South Sioux City, Iowa. Jim's Burgers.
The name is a bit misleading since Jim does not serve any burgers--I don't even think there is anybody named Jim who works there. What it is, though, is a fantastic little Mexican restaurant. Authentic, cheap, and yummy.

Vermillion, SD. Chae's.
This restaurant in downtown Vermillion serves a variety of Chinese and Korean dishes. Love it. This is probably the best restaurant I have ever eaten at. I've been to London, Los Angeles, Washington DC, Paris, Amsterdam, and nothing has ever come close to Chae's. The fried rice noodles are to die for, the vegetables are unbelieavably crisp and fresh, I could go on and on. Seriously, it is fantastic.

Vermillion, SD Chalky's Bar.
When it's 1 am and you've been drinking for some solid hours, the Big-Ass Taco at Chalky's is as close to perfection as us mere humans can ever hope to get. Basically, I go out drinking in Vermiillion just to get a taco later on. Damn, it's a good taco.

And that's all I got for now. Ok, so obviously, I really haven't been a whole lot of places, but what I have given you is the yummiest and coolest these towns have to offer.

This is how we do it in the Midwest. Soup's On!

Harvest Moon

Leaving the house in the late evening to go for a bike ride. This is one of the greatest pleasures of living in the Dakotas. I rode all over town this evening, up and down quietly murmuring streets, past houses with the lights on and the curtains open, through campus where kids with backpacks gathered on all corners. I don't know quite how to describe this feeling--this feeling of being so connected to a community that the nighttime doesn't make you feel vulnerable, or that everyone you ride by says "nice night," or that your neighbors don't feel the need to shut doors and pull shades to keep one another out.

And the moon! Did you see the moon tonight? Fat and round, hanging from the sky like a green apple, heavy with sweet water and ready to plop back to the soft earth beneath it. A gorgeous moon, bright and orange enough to harvest corn by.

I haven't lived on the farm I grew up on for a number of years now, but tonight, I felt like I was home.

Yes, a very good moon tonight.

Soy (Ugh) Ice Cream

OK, I get it, stomach. I get it. I can't eat dairy anymore. Or, to clarify, I cannot eat ice cream anymore. Apparently, I am now lactose intolerant--more specfically, ice cream intolerant. I don't know if I can tolerate being ice cream intolerant! I thought it was just a weird coinky-dink that everytime I ate ice cream I ended up clutching my torso, rocking back and forth and asking God to stop testing me. I don't want to blame you, ice cream, I really don't. But you hurt me. You really do. Being back in Vermillion and back in a state where Dairy Queen is a local tradition, I biked to DQ for some tasty ooey-gooey deliciousness last night, something I hadn't done in awhile.

And I paid for it. Dearly.

I am hereby declaring that I cannot and will not eat ice cream anymore. At least not the kind made with milk.

And now I am stuck with soy ice cream. It tastes like, well, soybeans. You betcha.

Goodbye, DQ. We've had a good run. Although I still love the Indigo Girls song, because I am pretty sure I have been drunk and mean down at the Dairy Queen.

Why is it that it is ice cream that my stomach has declared war on? Why couldn't it have been canned mushrooms or something?

I'm Somebody Now!

I recently read in Glamour that it was OK if you did not have a blog. That you are still a valuable person. Whatev, Glamour. I have joined the ranks of the blogger. This is something I have wanted to do for a long time now, but apparently, the three step process was too much for me to wrap my brain around. Now, however, I'm doing it. And I'm very excited!

Originally a farm girl, I am a lover of books, fried rice and '80s dance hits. I dig liberal bumper stickers, equal rights, playing rousing games of Horse, poetry, irises, and anything sung by Kenny Rogers. I've just about done it all (job-wise) at the tender age of 25 (that's what 6 years of school gets you, about 18 gazillion summer jobs). I hesitate to call myself a writer yet, though that is something I am working towards.

There have been lots of big changes in my life and I'm so glad I now have a venue to share. Blogspots are super cool. I recently (like a week ago) moved back to the town where I did my MA in English to teach a few sections of College Composition. Finally, I got my foot in the door and am exactly where I want to be for the next few years. I hope my other blogs will be more exciting than this one, cuz this one's a little corny and boring. Since I've been back in town, though, I've gone to a poetry slam, drank, danced, taught, and did a little karaoke, so it shouldn't be too hard to find drama and excitement here.

Peace!