Sweater Vests and Beach Bums

I was sitting at Mia Pomodora yesterday waiting for the food to come that I had ordered using my wonderful Groupon. Which on a side note is the best thing since a hotdog on a stick. Groupon and Living Social feed my life and I just want to say thank you to those glorious organizations for providing to me what I am not able to provide to myself. But anyhow – sitting at Mia Pomodora and this dude walks up and asks to sit with us since he was waiting for food too.

So dude was chattering away making small talk and he asks Trellis and I “what sort of guys we like…” Weird. But okay moving forward. And we were thinking about that in comparison to the guys who live down here and I came to the conclusion that Charleston is made up of two things. Sweater Vests and Beach Bums.

No one wants to date a sweater vest because they are more feminine than most of the girls I meet. And for anyone thinking on this who is from the Midwest. Let me just tell you here and now that a southern sweater vest wearing man is a far different animal than a Midwestern sweater vest wearing man. The southern sweater vest likes to wear short pink shorts and a visor while he creepily tries to pick up girls at yoga class or by boasting his own self worth at a local coffee shop. Pretty boys in the most negative context.

The beach bum is a much more attractive option. But since really we are looking for Trellis here and not for me – I don’t quite see that working out either. Although Trellis has embraced the beach lifestyle..i.e. she doesn’t do her hair before going to the beach and from time to time she actually wears a bathing suit. I don’t really see her embracing a beach bum with the same enthusiasm. Beach bums are carefree and fun and full of love and kind words, but you don’t see them between the months of May and September (unless you are at the beach) and their day to day lives off the beach are almost always up for debate.

Beach bums…sweater vests…beach bums….sweater vests…what to do, what to do.

Fleas and Hurricanes

Fuel last night for chicken nachos and plantain fritters. Never an experience you'll regret.

There is a Hurricane coming and it marks my first ever tropical storm experience! I think the brunt of it will miss Charleston. But we should have some pretty heavy rain. For anyone who loves a good thunderstorm the way that I do – you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen a southern storm. And I get the feeling that I haven’t seen anything until I see wind and rain direct from a Hurricane that is just off the coast.

The whole Hurricane thing is very difficult to wrap my head around given my Midwestern upbringing. I am not accustomed to the civilized conversation regarding where we will go if we have to evacuate, or asking what supplies I have purchased in preparation for the storm. Preparation? In the Midwest if we see a storm coming we say “OH SHIT!” then duck and cover. The most preparation we have is practicing hiding under our desks in middle school. I was in a panic at first because I don’t have a basement to hide in. I was then gently reminded that no one here has a basement. And if they did they had better be wearing swim suits because it is going to flood. I guess that makes sense. Not much use for a basement when your house is sitting on land that is below sea level. Nick is having as equally difficult a time wrapping his mind around the idea of storm preparation. At least I have someone to be confused with. Although I think he is starting to get nervous because it started to rain last night and he leapt up and said “Oh God! Is my car going to float away!” …no that is just rain – hurricane won’t be here until Friday night. So weird, like it’s a visitor that the entire city is anxiously awaiting.

As far as I can tell, the real problem with a hurricane in Charleston is not total annihilation so much as major inconvenience. I guess the power goes out during these things and stays out for several weeks at times. I haven’t really prepared for that…I filled up a few water jugs, but beyond that I think my plan is going to be to drink up the beer in my fridge before it gets warm and eat lots of cold spaghettios.

A Wedding and A Funeral (who died? Our dignity.)

What a wonderful weekend in my beloved Bloomington. I knew once I finally escaped from that place I would love going back to visit. It is most definitely one of my favorite places on earth.

Ashly Shell (now forever known as Ashly Pixler) got married on August 12th and it was such a lovely reunion. Ashly looked beautiful and the ceremony and reception were so pretty. Plus Smato was somehow convinced to wear a dress so that was just the icing on the cake. But we all went out the night before the ceremony and I remember sitting there talking to Smato and McVey and thinking how much I appreciate all of the friendships from freshman year of college. It is such a hodgepodge of personalities and people, all thrown together and forced to either make it work or spend the year hiding in your room. We made it work. Good lord did we make it work. Not only for that first year but for sophomore year too. And even as we all got more into our different grooves in college – newspapers, jobs, boyfriends, school work – all pulling us away from one another. We were still such a family. The most different mess of people you can imagine. But we were there for each other. And we didn’t judge or manipulate or use one another like some friends tend to do as you get older. We supported, and harassed and gave each other shit 24/7 – but we were a family. In the way that you can only be with the people who know absolutely everything about you.

I haven’t seen a few of them in years. We have different lives, we went separate ways. We left college.

But when we all got back together it was like we still lived next door to one another in Villas – Trellis’ poof fell sideways, McVey got drunk and disheveled, I tried to go swimming in the middle of the wedding reception, Kristin listened to all the shenanigans from the night before and told us all we were idiots and Smato just crossed her arms over her chest and made outrageous comments which she found absolutely hilarious. When Kristin left the reception I cried and Smato grabbed my bags and laughed in my face before leaving me sitting in the parking lot.

This might not sound quite so wonderful to anyone else. But to me – it is friendship and comfort and home. It’s like we all went away and are living these wonderful lives. But the minute we all get together again we immediately digress into the mentality of college freshman. Spending every moment together, knowing exactly what the others were going to do, and rationalizing even the most ridiculous behavior as perfectly acceptable.

The kicker was as Ashly’s reception came to a close. There were four of us from freshman year sitting in t-shirts and pajama shorts eating an enormous bag of potato chips and talking about nothing, and Ashly was plopped down in the middle of the group wearing her wedding dress. Some things never change. And sometimes there is nothing better than seeing old friends and having a good time.