Queen of the Savages

Entries from May 2009

Drooling interests

May 29, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Dr. V came over last night to watch Lebron James school (can anyone say 4th quarter) Orlando in the fifth game of the NBA playoff series.  Seriously, the man is a bull, and even I (a normally blissfully ignorant of all sports type-of-girl)  can appreciate his mad skillz on the court.  In a true testament to our 14 years of friendship, Dr. V let me watch the end of the National Spelling Bee championship during half-time.  Has anyone ever listened to the announcers during a spelling bee? The fact that they even have announcers is hilarious. A fact made even more hilarious by switching between the announcers during the ball game and the spelling bee.  Although, I think the spelling bee announcers won the evening’s title for outright nonsensical-ness.  The winner of the bee, Kavya Shivashankar (if you had to spell that name everyday, you better be winning some fucking spelling competitions), had a habit of writing out the word that she was given with her finger in the palm of her hand. 

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A habit that prompted the announcers to tell us, “that’s not a pen she’s using folks, that’s her finger.”  REALLY??? Her finger doesn’t magically turn into a pen? Because I thought all spelling bee champs had the ability to spout ink from their fingertips.  I’m so glad you cleared that up for me.

After the spelling bee ended, we watched the last half of the basketball game.  The best part of the ball game was at the end when Jay-Z and crew were waiting to shake Lebron James’ hand.  Proving that even the mega-est of stars can turn into drooling groupies around someone they admire. A reaction I envision would be somewhat similar if I ever meet Kavya Shivashankar in person: “Oh my god, I can’t believe you spelled Laodicean correctly under all that pressure.  I mean, I had my dictionary out and everything and you spelled it before I even had time to look up the definition. And you’re only 13! What’d you think about that girl that misspelled derriengue? Total loser, am I right?  Sooo, what are you doing later? Wanna help me look up words that rhyme with blumpkin?”

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Z-Y-X-W-V-U….

May 28, 2009 · Leave a Comment

Sorry for the lack of posts lately.  I’ve been trying to extricate myself from various legal entanglements that have occurred over the past few months.  For instance, the night before I went to Iceland, I crashed my truck into two poor, unsuspecting Indian men.  No one was hurt and the police officer assured me that if I went to court to dispute the charge of improper lane change my $220.00 fine would be significantly reduced.  No such luck.  I did however get to watch a very small man (somewhere between a midget and a mongoloid) sitting in the row ahead of me in the court room thoroughly clean out his left ear for about three hours.  I should have brought a book, but who needs books when you’ve got a good ear-cleaning session to watch? On the bright side, one of the Indian guys called to ask me out on a date about a month after the accident and now I have a new friend who is acutely aware of the fact that the less I drive, the safer the world is.

This weekend some  family and friends  went to Wilmington, N.C. to visit my grandmother and spend a couple of days on the beach.  The Atlantic is an unruly bitch with waters as cold as ice, but I love her.  We spent hours flinging ourselves into the waves and taking naps on the beach. Everyone on the trip was reading some sort of vampire book, and it made me think of a great idea for a series someone should write about vampire lifeguards. 

More legal troubles ensued on this trip, but I’ll wait to fill you in on those until that court date has come and gone, or until I’ve learned to memorize the alphabet backwards and stop acting so belligerent in public.

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Isn’t this a beautiful day?

May 19, 2009 · Leave a Comment

My brother and I have only said ” I love you” to one another a handful of times over our 27 years of being siblings.  It’s odd to think about because he is one of the people I love the most; have spent the most time with over my entire life. 

My first memory is of anxiously waiting in the hospital waiting room with my aunt for him to be born.  Since that day, I can count the number of times we have fought on one hand.  However, the list of things I have accomplished and done because of him is innumerable: sky diving (twice!), traveling to Iceland, training for a triathlon, trying the Whopper Jr.; making it through my divorce.   The day I moved out of my house he kept repeatedly giving me high fives and telling me what a beautiful day it was, Isn’t this just the most beautiful day? Isn’t this the greatest day you have ever had the privilege of being alive in?–and in his way kept me from the closest I have ever come to having a nervous breakdown. 

We both have an aversion to toothpaste (thank you, Go Smile  for revolutionizing my world by the way) and people who chew gum. Once when we were kids, someone mistook us for twins and he responded in a very frustrated tone, “How could we possibly be twins? SHE’S-A-GIRL.” Oh yeah, we know who got the brains in the family.  As teenagers, he was always the more popular one, but he never thought twice about sitting with me at lunch or sticking up for me the year our parents accused me of “ruining Christmas.”  On a trip to Scotland last year, he gave me a black eye in a drunken accident and never apologized.  Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do?, he insisted.  That’s OK, bro.  I never apologized for telling our entire middle-school that you wet the bed as a child and our parents made you wear a special pee-pee belt.  We’re even now. 

While I think that we don’t say it because we don’t need to: I love you, J (a.k.a. Donald).  Happy Birthday.

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Don’t be nervous, give ‘em service!

May 18, 2009 · Leave a Comment

The advice above was texted to me by a friend after I wrote to ask her if it was normal not to be able to breathe before your first dance performance.  This weekend was my first public flamenco show.  Since the last time I did anything in public I was five years old and still had an unbelievably bad sense of timing, I was understandably nervous before the show. 

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 My ENTIRE family and a few very close friends (the only ones I would ever let see me humiliate myself in public) were there to support me and I really felt the love.   I truly learned the meaning of the term “the show must go on” when my skirt became momentarily stuck to my shoe.  Fearing the worst, visions of me finishing the dance skirtless, I finally managed to unhook myself and finish in style with my pride intact.  While I will probably never be a professional flamenco dancer (as in, there is probably not a chance in hell), it is the one thing I did last year that helped to give me my confidence back after a rough patch of personal floundering and self-doubt.  Thanks to everyone that came and everyone who wasn’t there but was thinking of me.  I appreciate and love you all more than you’ll ever know. 

Flor

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Donald Goes to Russia

May 12, 2009 · Leave a Comment

My brother, ‘Donald’, recently got back from a ten day trip to Russia.  After only a slight amount of prodding on my part,  he wrote the following guest post about his experience.  Helpful tips and the gear he brought with him are included as usual:  

Gear:
Columbia “Powers Vertical- Titanium” Pant – http://columbia.com/Product/4/Titanium/41030/Pants/9908/Powers-Vertical-Pant.aspx?viewAll=False
Columbia “Lander” Pant- http://columbia.com/Product/1/Mens/130/Pants/9923/Lander-Pant.aspx?viewAll=False
REI MTS Boxer Brief’s- http://www.rei.com/product/722396
Various moisture wicking T-shirts from Prana, Nike, and Adidas.
Wigwam Cool-Lite Socks http://www.rei.com/product/671092
Headsweats Race Hat http://www.rei.com/product/708142
Microsoft Zune 80 G

Sometimes I make decisions without really thinking about them. Some recent examples include a marriage proposal, buying a motorcycle, and attempting to ride my bicycle 100 miles. Without exception these choices have lead to disasters of varying degrees of intensity. The impulsive thought to go to Russia by myself seemed like a great idea at first. As the trip grew closer, I began to wonder if I was going to add yet another item to the list I seem insistent on filling up. As it turns out, travelling by myself and the trip in general was pretty fun. Rather than give you a blow by blow description of the trip, I will try to offer up some concise impressions and thoughts on Moscow.
 
I have been to a bunch of places from Venezuela, to Norway, to Japan and everyone seems to know a smattering of English which made the day to day necessities of life on the road (transportation, food, museums, etc.) pretty damn easy. For a variety of reasons, Russian don’t seem to share the desire to learn my native tongue. I am not some ethnocentric jerk who thinks everyone should learn English, but thought it worth mentioning because it made life frustrating.
 
Tip #1 Learn some Russian! A few simple phrases will help you out immensely. Suggestions include, “Thank you,” “Hello,” “How much does it cost,” and “Quit pushing me you asshole.” The last one to be reserved only for the subway (more to come on that).
 
Tip #2 The tap water is not safe to drink in Moscow, but Bon Aqua (a Coca Cola company) seems to have a monopoly on bottled water and is available everywhere. After some pointing and grunting, you should be able to secure some pretty easy. There are kiosks everywhere that sell water as well as candy, beer, and other sundry items. If your day’s plans include getting drunk you can literally buy beer at every corner so a cumbersome cooler is not needed.
 
Tip #3 If after drinking all that beer or water you really need to pee, you have two options. First, just pee anywhere! It seems to be perfectly acceptable. I saw people peeing in parks, on the side of the road, and in alleys. Definitely my style, but if you are a little bashful most public areas have port-a-johns that cost about 20 roubles. Usually, the first stall is a makeshift office for the attendant who will direct you to an unoccupied unit.

Russian foodTip #4 Most restaurants have an English menu which you can request. Not knowing this for 85% of my trip was severely disappointing. Service is so-so at most places and pretty much in line with Europe in general.
 
Tip #5 The subway can be a little difficult to figure out in my opinion. The best thing to do is buy a metro card and put a ton of rides on it so you limit the number of times you have to have an encounter with the Kacca (cashier in Russian). I gave her a bunch of money and just spread my fingers out to indicate 10 rides. This was almost always understood. If you can get your hands on a subway map which has both the English and Cyrillic alphabet it will be worth its weight in gold. People always seem to be in a damn hurry on the metro (maybe us southerners are just too slow) so be prepared for tightly packed cars, pushing, and people getting in and out quickly. The doors shut pretty fast and don’t seem to have any type of sensor to reopen as I discovered when one clobbered my arm.

MetroTip #5 Try to meet some locals. I know this is easier said than done, but if you can it opens up a lot of insight into “true” Russian life. Drinking at bars is a relatively new thing in the Russian Federation and most people seem to prefer a good house party with friends.
 

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 Tip #6 This tip is something that I am very passionate about. Don’t ever wear cotton anything!!!! Cotton is a fabric that should be confined to towels and Eli Whitney. If you are like me, when you travel you are walking constantly. Especially during the summer months this means sweat, smells, and general grossness. I cover myself from head to toe with non-cotton fabrics that are moisture wicking. This cocoon of advanced fabric keeps me dry, smell free, and happy after many miles of walking in the Russian sun. And I mean everything….underwear, socks, hat….EVERYTHING. I used the same pair of underwear for 3 days straight while averaging around 6-7 miles walking. After a quick smell inspection on day four I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of any odor. It’s awesome! If I had not Kacca’d I would have wore it for a fourth day.
 
Tip #7 If you want to be able to call home cheaply here is how. First you need to bring your own personal cell phone, but it has to be unlocked. Most carriers (t-mobile did for me) will unlock it for you if you tell them you are going out of the country. When you get to Moscow there are a bunch of places that will sell you a SIM card from a local company. Replace your SIM card (obviously hold on to it for later) and replace it with the new one. That’s it! You now have a Russian phone number where your local buds can get a hold of you, your folks back home can call you, and you can call home. Purchase of an old fashion phone card recommended for the last two options. I bought one that had 7 hours of talk time to the US for like $5. You typically have to dial “8″ for some reason to call any number. Not sure why.
 
Tip # 8 Within three days of arriving you have to register with the government. Someone helped me out with this so I can’t offer a whole lot of details. Several sources did tell me that if you do not do this the police will shake you down for money. In fact, the general impression I got was that the police will try to get you to pay a bribe for almost anything. This was confirmed when a friend of mine had to pay the police TWICE on my trip for ridiculous traffic violations. Better than getting a ticket I suppose.
 
Enough tips and so much for “concise impressions and thoughts.” Here are some random things to close out this report. See-thru tops on women seem to be very popular from young to old. I mean completely see-thru so if you have been wanting to walk in public in your bra Moscow is the place to do it. Borscht is pretty good and I hate beets. Wi-Fi access is pretty ubiquitous at all the cafes and small eateries. Anyone who owns a car more expensive than a BMW 5 Series ALWAYS has a driver and/or security. Russian women are pretty damn hot. Mullets are a completely acceptable hairstyle for both men and women.

St. Basils

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You only wish your streak of geekness was as long as mine

May 11, 2009 · 1 Comment

http://bufordhighway.com/

A website detailing my favorite place in Atlanta. Whew! Now I don’t have to write that book.  I can just concentrate on eating my way from one end of the ‘highway’ to the other.

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Karaokillme

May 10, 2009 · Leave a Comment

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Guess what I did this weekend? Guess who I have a new found respect for?  People who sing in public.  People who sing in public in tune.  People who sing in public in tune for a living.  After Saturday night, I am fairly certain I will never be one of these people.

I spent Saturday night at Karaoke Melody celebrating a friend’s birthday the way that makes her happy: with lots of sake and show tunes.  I’m not exactly sure how I’ve made it these 28 years of life without having to karaoke but I’m pretty sure no one will mind if another 28 passes without my participation.

Karaoke Melody has private rooms with thousands of songs in their playlist for endless hours of drunken off-key singing.  There is also a full bar at the entrance where I enjoyed chatting up the inebriated bartenders and patrons when I needed a break from Grease and Chicago duets.  My favorite song of the evening was a joint effort between myself and the birthday girl of Sid Vicious’ version of “My Way.”  I think we would have made Sid proud.  Personally, my eardrums will never be the same.

Once again, Buford Highway has proved itself a magical funland of possibilities and smorgasbord of cultural entertainment.  While we are on one of my favorite topics, does anyone know the origins of Buford Highway? Who was the first ethnic group to land there and decide, this is it? This will be my stretch of land, henceforth.  My friends love me and like to humor me so they suggested I do some research and write a book about it.  But, part of me doesn’t want to unravel the mystery.  I don’t really need to know where all of those tacos, streams of bakeries, and noodle soups originated.  I just seek solace in the fact that they are there for the taking whenever I am in need of a transcendent experience.

And Big Props to D for performing a song I had never heard of called “Cuban Pete” and hitting all of the lyrics below to a freaking T.  A feat so grand I almost pissed myself watching.

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Dick Lane Velodrome

May 8, 2009 · Leave a Comment

A friend of mine will be racing tomorrow at this event  just in case anyone is interested in attending.  It’s BYOB and the concession stand looks badass.  Let me know if you want to go because I have a two for the price of one admission coupon, in addition to the free ticket that I will be using. 

Happy Friday!

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I’ll have a taco with that hangover, please.

May 4, 2009 · 2 Comments

Saturday Dr. V, Mac and I braved the torrential rainstorm and went cruising for tacos.  I keep a list in my purse at all times of places that I would like to try so we pulled out the list and chose a couple. 

First stop: El Cabrito on Buford Hwy.  We went here based on an article in the May issue of Atlanta Magazine’s cheap eats section.  I am pretty sure they were out of business.  The building was completely abandoned with empty beer bottles strewn everywhere. Seemed like the closing party was probably a lot of fun.    

Second stop: Chicago Supermarket on Buford Hwy.  We ordered four carnitas tacos (two for each of us) and two Cokes in the bottle.  The counter staff was super friendly and their sauce bar is out of sight.  Dr. V and I were hurting from the night before and these tacos really hit the spot.  The tortillas were slightly stale, but I couldn’t have cared less.  We also purchased a bag of the best plantain chips I have ever had.  They were coated in chile, lime, and salt.  Delicious.

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Third stop: Taqueria El Sori in Fiesta Foods on Buford Hwy: I loved this place.  The owner is so sweet.  She blushed when I told her that the article in the Creative Loafing led me to her tiny corner of the store.  Speaking Spanish was a major plus here. She told me that while her kitchen may be small, her food is solid and I completely agreed.  We ordered two carne asada tacos (the tortillas were fresher here), one huaraches, and one quesadilla.  The quesadilla blew my mind.  Stuffed with lettuce, avocado, tomato, and crema this was the ultimate in hangover food.  Warning: they only accept cash here. 

We couldn’t finish one of the tacos so we saved it for Mac who was patiently waiting in the car.  I wish I had a picture of Mac and his first taco.  Never come between a half-chihuahua and his taco.  Bloodshed might ensue.  Come to think of it, never come between a half-Venezuelan and her taco either.  I imagine the result would be the same.

Last stop: La Churreria on Buford Hwy (there is a theme here).  Mother of god what can I do to get these people to make me a fresh churro? I pleaded but she was worse than the soup Nazi.  This was my second unsuccessful attempt.  Have you ever had a stale churro? I will keep on trying though as they are one of my favorite desserts.

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Reminiscing

May 1, 2009 · Leave a Comment

A list of some of my most vivid and earliest childhood memories:

1.  Constantly sucking on my mother’s arm everywhere we went.  Sucking on my own arm and “bringing it in” to class for show and tell.  I wanted to bring my mother’s arm, but she refused.  This habit was eventually replaced with the much more satisfying and socially acceptable habit of smoking. 

2.  The life-size portrait of Big Bird hanging on my wall directly in front of my bed that scared the ever living shit out of me at night. 

3.  My father feeding me green-pea soup before he left on a business trip.  I hated green-pea soup. I let it build up in my mouth until I couldn’t hide it anymore, and then spit it out all over him.  His business suit covered in green and ruined.

4.  The day my parents bought me a bed tent.  Feeling unbelievably excited.  So excited that I wet the bed that night and they made me throw it away.

5.  Chasing a scorpion around one of the rooms in our first house until it clamped down on my finger and caused me the most excruciating pain I had felt to date: later to be followed by managing to get a metal pipe stuck in my leg, using my tongue as the breaking mechanism for my tricycle and chopping the tip of it off (it grows back amazingly), and cutting off a piece of my hand while chopping carrots the exact opposite way my mother had taught me only moments before.  I’ve always been a trial and error type of girl.

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