"Love Noises"

So, this is totally gross. Gramma, if you're reading this, you might want to stop here.

But, for a few weeks now, I have been hearing my neighbor's "love noises." Or, to be more specific, his girlfriend's. Most sexologists (?) talk about how couples have a routine in the bedroom. I'm here to tell you that this is true. And I wish I didn't know.

While living the apartment lifestyle, it is likely that you will hear someone's "love noises" at some point or another - your roommate's, your neighbor's - and like me, you'll probably wish you hadn't.

I have puzzled over how to deal with this problem, and I have thought of only one very passive-aggressive solution. I guess I could rent a few pornos and put them on the TV at full volume, and leave the house for several hours. It's just an idea.

Halloween and Squinty Eye

I was a tennis player for Halloween. A blonde tennis player, like Anna Kournikova. As part of my costume I said, "I model now." This picture is of my friend Megan and I. She went as a Christmas tree. We took this picture because we said that we both sometimes take pictures where one eye is slightly closed. My squinty eye is my left eye. Her squinty eye is her right eye.

In this picture, I borrowed Colonel Sander's mustache. But I had to give it back. These things happen on Halloween.

You Gonna Eat That Pickle?! An "Aha! Moment"

I went out to lunch with some classmates yesterday. We went to a pizza slice place, and one girl ordered a slice with tomatoes, spinach, and onions. She spent some time picking the onions off her pizza and a guy (originally from Milwaukee) said, "Are you going to eat those?"
"No," she said, "Go to town."And then he put all the onions on his slice and took a bite.

"I feel like that's a Midwest thing," I said, as he rearranged the onions on his slice of pizza.

"Me too," he said. "I always eat off my friends' plates at home. I always know who is not going to eat their pickle. Then I eat it."

"I do that too!" I exclaimed.

Some of our Southern classmates agreed that eating off someone's plate was, perhaps, a Midwestern cultural thing. Some people said that in the South, "you always clean your plate." I guess the equivalent saying in the Midwest would be, "You always clean your plate, and offer to clean your neighbor's plate too."

Hippie-Ohs

Last night I bailed out of a big U sports event and randomly ran into a gal in my class who I think is pretty cool. She is more into the "alternative" scene here, and by that I mean the bike shop/organic farms type of thing. And sure 'nuff she invited me to an outdoor projected movie at the back alley bike shop of her friends. So, it was a kind of great and unique scene people-wise and I was excited to see another side of the town.

Unfortunately, my friend had to leave to catch the last bus to a neighboring town where she lives. So I was kind of left with some people I didn't know, watching a horrible torture scene in a...um... unique... mountain bike slasher flick. I had brought some Oreos thinking that it would be a hit (and help me make some friends) to share some cookies. Only, I found out that the bike community here also wasn't like the ones at home.

The bike messenger and bike shop kids that I knew in the Midwest were kind of grubby (okay, same), had alternative politics (same), and went dumpster diving (not same). When I passed around the bag of Oreos, the girls refused to eat any (frown), and some guy said, "Oh, these are real Oreos. They don't even sell these at the Co-op. They sell 'Hippie-oes.'"

I mean, he ate one and everything. Maybe even two.

But I thought, um..., really? These kids buy organic Oreos at the Hippie Co-op??? I mean, (1) aren't they expensive? and (2) why would you ever buy organic fake Oreos? Oh, and (3) is it really that rare that someone would bring preservative-ladden Oreos to one of their (OUTDOOR bike messenger slasher) parties?

Even "alternative" Southern culture is more puzzling that I even imagined.

Back to the Future

As I sit down for a night of studying tonight, I feel like a younger version of myself.

Probably because I just worked out to a Cindy Crawford video from 1993, I study all the time, and I have no money. Yes - it IS like being back in college!

Now that I'm getting the hang of graduate school, I'm finding more "balance" with my schedule. What this actually means is that I'm studying more and watching less back-episodes of "Six Feet Under." But this new "balance" also means that I'm finding time to eat healthier, exercise a few times a week, and live within a shoestring budget. And I think a lot too.

I am pursing my graduate degree so that I can have an interesting job and get paid a lot better than when I came into school. I am learning so much in my classes, and I'm also finding time to dream about things I'm interested in, or jobs I might like to have. The other thing that I'm finding refreshing about school is that there is more freedom to take risks that is not usually allowed in the working world. But, it's more fun because I appreciate it more than I did when I was younger. I am more bold now, because I have more experience to draw on; yet, I am very much still exploring.

Anyway...

Mr. D is coming to visit this weekend, and I am so excited. We haven't seen each other in 2 months. Though we have kept our friendship very loving and supportive and full of humor, it is going to be so, so good to have a conversation face-to-face, to hug each other, to have dinner together. I want to make him pancakes. And steak. And try to tickle him. Whatever!

And Another Thing...

One more weird thing about North Carolina: the men here don't finish your ice cream for you when you can't finish it. All the men in my life in Chicago - my dad, my brother, Mr. D - would all have at least taken a whack at the remainder of my unfinished M&M blizzard.

Anxiety Crane and Notorious B.I.G. of Econ

Last night I slept horribly. I was worrying about my Econ exam today (my first grad school exam, well, quiz - ). I did sleep, but I tossed and turned all night. I kept half-waking up and finding myself in really weird physical poses. Like some tense crane arm position (think: Kung Fu Hustle). And later, with one leg crunched way up and the other leg just out normal (think: Justin Timberlake high-knee step dance move only not dancing).

I woke up knowing I was overly nervous and thus flipping through my iPod to find the proper pick-me-up song before test time. When I hit on Notorious BIG's "Big Poppa," I knew I found my morning jam. On my way to school I imagined myself as the Notorious BIG of Economics. Like, I'd be a really fat dude with lots of dollar bills who drew really accurate supply and demand curves. Unh- babe-a babe-a! Silly and ridiculous, I know, but I'm sure it helped me ace the test.

Small Town Perks

The top headline in today's local paper was probably geared (and I think successfully) just to increase sales. This is probably the most salacious but least important news I can think of. See this:
http://www.newsobserver.com/news/story/712570.html

I would say, "Welcome to the South," but I'm guessing this type of stuff *may* happen all over the country. They just might not publish it in the paper in other places...

When You Deserve To Get Treated Passive-Aggressively

My downstairs neighbor is a post-graduate school slob.
He never takes a turn to put out the trash (we share a trash can), nor does he ever bring the trash can BACK from the curb. He has poker parties where him and his friends drink a lot of beer, then he puts the beer in the recycling bin but never takes that out to the curb either. See exhibit A:

Note the huge cobweb from the recycle bin to the house because so much time has passed since dude took out the recycling.

Also, this guy collects his "junk mail" and throws it in some random bin that he keeps in the hall way. I have never seen him empty this bin, and the hallway is collecting additional detritus such as lint balls and dryer sheets, bits of plastic, and yesterday A HUGE PALMETTO BUG, which doesn't seem to bother dude at all. See exhibit B:Where I've started using my own recycle bin and just given in about taking out the trash, having his nasty trash overflow in the common space is really starting to get on my nerves. I was ranting to Mr. D about this, and he suggested that someone that behaves like my neighbor deserves to be treated passive-aggressively. And I had to agree. So, I'm thinking of writing him a note, in the spirit of one of my favorite websites, passiveaggressivenotes.com. Do you have any ideas for passiveaggressive notes, dear readers? I'll post some ideas too in the next few days.

"Guys In Ties." "Girls In Pearls."

Can you find me amongst some of my new classmates?
We are dressed up for a morning tailgate party for the college football game.

What Accent, You Tie-Wearing Weird-Ass?

Undergrad Brats

There are three apartments on the lot where I live, so I share the yard space with a bunch of guy undergrads. They kind of suck. One reason they kind of suck is that they have campfires in the back yard starting at 12 a.m. and going until 4 a.m. Whatever wood they use for these fires is maybe soaked in bacon grease or something because it has a weird smoky/meaty smell. They also throw beer cans into the fire. On one hand, I sort of think it is awesome that they can pretend campfire on the weekends, but on the other hand, it stinks, it's dirty, and it's right under my window.


Data Crunching Satisfaction

School got really busy starting this week. I spent probably 20 hours downloading Census data and formatting it. When my head was on the verge of exploding (and after I spilled a cup of hot coffee on my hand and cried for 10 minutes in the campus bookstore bathroom) I was able to step back and realize this: grad school is not fun right now but I probably am learning some skills to be a better planner and policy maker. Whoo. I also spent the entire Friday in the library doing data crunching, but came out with a strangely high amount of self-satisfaction for getting so much work accomplished. Weird.


My Accent?

I have now been asked twice about my "Wisconsin accent." The first time someone asked me about it, it went one ear and out the other. The second time I was like, "I have a Wisconsin accent?" and people were like, "Oh YEAH!" It's news to me. I guess I've never lived outside my home region where I could "have an accent." I've also never lived in a region where they wear ties and seer-sucker pants to a football game. They say: it's more refined. I say: it's more uptight.

Other things they haven't heard of down here: the movie "Shortbus," and eye surgery for Asians.

I Cooked My First Steak

It's official.
I'm trying new things.
I cooked my first steak!

I got a "flat iron" steak at Whole Foods yesterday in anticipation of a BBQ that I never attended. I rubbed it with olive oil and some random Chef Paul Prudhomme's "Meat Magic" and pan fried it for 5 minutes a side. It was delicious! I think the cut was slightly tough, but I didn't mind that. It wasn't leathery and the rub was spicy and flavorful. I made a complementary spinach and fresh tomato salad for a delicious and amazing dinner. Hooray! Who knew steak could be so easy?

Temple of the Mind

I'm about to start a day of studying. What's amazing is that 11 a.m. on Sunday morning is equivalent to ghost town time in a college town. Except for the many, many people who are going to church right now, this joint is deserted.

Today, I'm worshipping at the church of the mind, which apparently involves listening to opera and researching Census data in the library.

Wish me luck.

Bike Ride for Coffee and Happiness and Micheal Jackson

Saturday was probably my best day yet since I've lived here in North Carolina. I went with a new friend to participate in a bike ride around Durham. It was a fundraiser for sending bikes to Rwandan coffee growers. The bike ride included stops at local businesses - a community garden, a co-op bike space, a record store, a coffee shop. It was fun to be outside and fun to see some cool community spots. I enjoyed spending the day getting to know a new friend. Then we went to a Durham bar for beers and snacks. Then we went out to dance and enjoy the band, Who's Bad?, a Micheal Jackson cover band. I danced a lot, and really enjoyed the music.

It was a full day.

Hone Your Listening Skills

I'm still kind of amazed about the whole student lifestyle. I read, read, read. Do a problem set. Do a group project. Listen to 3 lectures. Then go home. Then repeat.

While I am in school now to get in and get out with a degree that will help me advance my career, I keep thinking about those students who are in it for the Ph.d. They do what I do. Plus research. Plus write a dissertation. Then they play politics and cross their fingers to get a good job. Then they do more research and have to prepare the lectures. There is nothing inherent in being a good student that leads to being a good teacher or a good lecturer. And nowhere else, besides school, are we supposed to listen and absorb what someone says for hours and hours as a method of learning a skill. It's really weird when you think about it. But, all in all, the academic lifestyle certainly has a lot of benefits, and allows for quite a lot of leisure time, if you can get your work done without procrastinating.

As for skills, I have noticed an increase in my reading/skimming speed, for what it is worth. And, for the most part, I can concentrate on expanding my mind and thinking about the subject matter, and hell, fantasizing what kind of job I want to do next, rather than work politics or pay scale or whatever. It's kind of nice... still busy, but nice.
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"Da Cheek's" annoyance of the week: The undergrad boys that live in the front house and their recent obsession with grilling stinky meats underneath my bedroom window at 2 a.m. At least I've gotten them to stop parking me in on the weekend so I don't have to wait until their 2 a.m. 'stink meat and bud light' hangover wears off at 2 p.m.

"Da Cheek's" wonder of the week: Locopop's flavor named "Creamy Lime." Mmmm.

Perfumes Prohibited

I've completed my first week of classes and I'm about to launch into week two.
My first impression: I'm tired! All this walking around, cramming and skimming readings, and attending classes is busier than I thought.
My second impression: reading for a living can be a pretty sweet gig.

Most of the little annoying things of adjusting to a new place are rolling off my back with surprising ease.
The few that stick:

(1) Prohibition of fragrances and perfumes in my departmental library. I love to spray a bit of perfume on myself and I hate feeling like I cannot ask the librarian for references at 3 p.m. if I sprayed a little dab on at 8 a.m. I'm sure I sweat it off anyway, but I have a nagging fear of being berated at the circulation desk for smelling too good.

(2) The goddamn heat and humidity down here and the resulting personal sweating. I have definitely not acclimated to the climate yet. Big drips of sweat dripping down my face when I'm meeting new friends and colleagues? Pit stains when I raise my hand to participate in Economics class? Not cute!? Is it because I've lived through cold winters that I sweat the most in this town?! How long does it take for the body to adjust to the work of a sweat factory?

(3) The lack of a drug store or any useful convenience-type store on the town's main street. C'mon! Don't people ever need to buy tampons or bobby pins or shoe polish on their way home from class?! I was at a party and I said, "This town doesn't have any side streets." Man, I lost some friends over that one. "THIS TOWN HAS SIDE STREETS!" Planning parties are sweet.

BagThat Rocket

For those of you that don't read passiveaggressivenotes.com, you MUST MUST MUST at least check out this entry from August 20. Hilarious!

'Brows

I don't know why, but eyebrows keep coming up in conversation.

I was socializing with some colleagues this past weekend and I had a pretty fun conversation about eyebrows with a girl who I previously did not have that much in common with. Now we have had some great laughs about eyebrows.

Southern Stroll/Heat Walk

I'm perfecting my "southern stroll" as one of my newly acquired southern traits. The southern stroll also known as the the "heat walk" is the way you walk when it is 100 degrees outside and you are walking home from class. You are wearing a sweater because it's so damn hot that if you just wore your backpack with your sundress, your backpack straps would make big ole red marks on your sweaty bare shoulders. So sunburn/backback-burn or extremely sweaty layers of clothes? Walking at a pace that is slower than... slower than... my god, molasses or Heinz ketchup in a glass bottle or a really high maintenance friend that needs to pluck her eyebrows 5 minutes before you all were scheduled to go out. Slow-ass slow is how you need to walk in this climate so you don't pass out on the sidewalk spilling all your gazillion papers on the street. And then sweating on them.

Miz M's Gonna Like It Here

A week of school time activities has passed and I must say that I am in a good spot. The orientation meetings were not the most interesting but they did provide a lot of good information on all the resources that are available to students at the University. Damn! I love it and I think it is so exciting that all these people are here (and are paid) to help students succeed at their intellectual pursuits. It's awesome to be a student.

At one of the TA meetings, the professor (and others) were warning us that as graduate students we would be surrounded by brilliant people and that it would be very intimidating and high pressure. And I thought: bring it on! Not that I want to be competitive or that I'm looking forward to the pressure but I am really excited to be surrounded by "really smart people." I think it will be very stimulating and I am looking forward to that!

The past weekend was full of departmental social events and I enjoyed pretty much every minute of it. I know that it may never be like this again. I'm on the brink of starting something totally new, and I have met all these people that are in the same spot. Pretty much everyone that is interested in socializing is really nice and I met a lot of fun people to talk to. I talked with one woman for an hour about eyebrows, another guy about religion, another group about the Greyhound Ameripass, and many, many other interesting and fun conversations. It was fun to meet people, spy out some potential friends, and be on the cusp of a new intellectual adventure. I even enjoyed my trip to Target tonight and the curvy roads, tall trees, and setting sun. It was even kind of beautiful. As Annie said, "I think I'm gonna like it here."