First World Problems

The lovely Rachel Brooke is going to grace me with her presence in Kentucky today! I can't wait to see female friends again! The wealth of female friends I had this summer was due to the influx of interns and a complete lie, because everyone knows that there are no women in Whitesburg, Kentucky. Okay, this is also untrue, but sometimes it feels like I have no female friends here. Don't get me wrong, I have some really amazing male friends, but it's just not the same. I just want to talk about boys and birth control and Taylor Swift, and I simply cannot do that with the country band.

Oh, first world problems.

WARNING THOSE WHO DON'T WANT TO HEAR ME RANT ABOUT CLUELESS MEN SHOULD STOP READING NOW!!!!!

I discovered this weekend that I have a "type" when it comes to romance (ewww she's talking about love... gross). This type is not short dark and handsome, or skinny and bearded, or well-dressed, or music nerds or men with southern accents (although let's face it, I really like all men, as long as I know they can't beat me up). This type is men who don't have their shit together enough to have a girlfriend. They are attractive, smart, understanding, excellent cuddlers who I feel incredibly comfortable being around, but they have issues that prevent them from dating anybody, much less me.

Why oh why oh why?

I mean, it could be a lot worse. I could always fall for abusive drug addicts, or men who aren't interested in women. But this pattern is frustrating. Perhaps I am subconsciously setting myself up for romantic failure because I am reluctant to give up my freedom, so I fall for men that I know won't actually date me. But being wrong and wasting time sucks.

I think I need to stop falling for hikers and musicians and travelers and start falling for Young Republicans and people who want to be president or doctors or lawyers or farmers. Because honestly, they seem to be the only 2o somethings in my experience who have any clue what they're doing with their lives. Not that I have any clue what I'm doing with my life, but it's good if you at least have enough of an idea that you're comfortable being in a relationship.

Grrr... again, first world problems.

So if y'all know any short, dark, and handsome/skinny guys with beards/guitar playing single Young Republicans/people who want to be president/doctors/farmers with southern accents, who are looking for tall, intelligent, funny, beautiful redheaded musicians, send them my way, so I can start worrying about something more important, like grades or the environment.

Soup Bean Day!!!!

It's soup beans day at Summit City, which means that my mind shuts down around 11 am and all I can think of is how delicious the hot pinto beans will be as they slide into my belly along with crumbled corn bread and onions and oh yes...

Really, it's hard to be unhappy on soup beans day.

Which is why I'm taking a brief break from proposal writing to write to you, my lovely lovely blog readers.

Life is good. I'm confused about people, and what I want from them, but this seems to be a constant state of being for me in the fall. It's like I suck every last bit of life from summer because I know that winter will be cold and lonely.

Okay, enough cryptic, melodramatic BS.

I had to put down my beloved Hasil Adkins, because he had kitty HIV. He would have given it to other cats and had a drastic deterioration and it would have been even sadder than it was to drive to the vet with a cat and come back with only a bill for euthanasia. That was the hardest thing I've had to do this fall.

But I went to the Pikeville animal shelter and got another cat, this time a female, black, long-haired kitten, sort of the opposite of Hasil Adkins. I don't love her quite as much as I loved Hasil yet, but Little Sadie Lockman is pretty durn cute, a purrer, and a cuddler, and just what I need right now.

Last week I went to East Tennessee to the Highlander Research and Education Center for a meeting with the STAY Project's fiscal agent. The meeting was productive and New Market, TN is absolutely beautiful! I was awed by the Great Smoky mountains. They are huge. And this is coming from a WV girl. I felt like I was from Ohio or something. I'm a bit in love with that part of Appalachia. New place I want to live?...

I spoke with my advisor yesterday, who seems to be on the same page with me as far as my time at Oberlin goes. She advised me to try to finish in 3 semesters (which I actually can do with minimal impact on my sanity) so I can go and do the things I really want to do. I knew there was some reason I asked her to be my advisor.

We'll it's only 15 minutes until it is acceptable for me to get soup beans.... I can taste them right now. I'm going to write something about soup beans, maybe a food article. They are the food of the East Kentucky gods. Cheap and delicious. At home we called them brown beans and cornbread. I call them heaven in a bowl.

Y'all get the point. I'll try to write more. But for now I'm looking forward to having soup bean breath.

Unleashing My Inner Martha Stewart and Loretta Lynn

First of all, many apologies for being lame and not blogging. A variety of circumstances (mainly moving into a house without internet) have made it difficult for me to be as internetly active as I usually am.

Secondly, while I would like to write about Appalachia Rising (which I did not attend, as I was rising in Appalachia those days), I'm sick of thinking about the coal debate and talking about it. This will probably last a week, and I will come back in full force and explain what this all means.

Now for something less controversial.

Nesting!!!!

I moved into a new house! It's at the head of the holler. It's pretty big, poorly insulated and filled with wood paneling, and I think I'm in love. I moved in a week ago and ever since I've been cleaning, unpacking, installing shower heads and unleashing my inner Martha Stewart. I feel like I've successfully transformed our kitchen from creepy to cute in the past week (although it is still dark because of the wood paneling), revitalized the bathroom and shower so they are not only usable and clean, but also smell alright. My landlords are generous, the neighbors are friendly, and aside from a dog that tries to bite me when I walk to work and I secretly hope will get hit by a car, my holler is a wonderful place to live. I only hope my roommate and I can afford to pay utilities on it in the winter when we'll actually have to heat the place. If we can't I'm not really sure where I'll go. But friends and strangers are kind and generous with their couches and I'm sure I'll work it out.

Music!!!

Two note-worthy musical endeavors:

1. My friend got a gig playing banjo at the elementary school. He was nervous about it, so I agreed to accompany him on my bass, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

I make it sound so ominous, but it wasn't at all! We ended up playing on a stage in the cafeteria at lunch time during what appeared to be "Take Your Parent to School Week." It was one of the most fun gigs I've had. The kids were a blast. One group in particular (2nd-3rd graders I think) were particularly appreciative. They clapped, danced, made the "rock on" hand signal while we played, winked at us, and made us feel like rockstars. Maybe some of them will join the Pick and Bow afterschool program, or seek out other folks in the area who play music, but if not, I at least hope that their chicken nuggets tasted better to an East Kentucky old time soundtrack.

2. I'm in a country band! It's old country/honky tonk/whole lotta fun band called the American Divorcees. We've practiced a few times in the past week, and I just can't get enough. It is a blast, and so much different than the last band experience that I had. So far we have a guitar, a lap steel, a bass, and a fiddler. We've never met or practiced with the fiddler, but she has red hair too, so I'm hoping we can get some matching outfits going on for gigs or something. As we all know, the most important part of country, bluegrass, and old time music is the pretty dresses, western-style shirts, and cowboy boots. For our band to be successful, we must not only sound good, but be able to rock the country look for us to be believable as musicians singing about heartbreak, alcoholism, and murder. Of course, in that regard, I'm probably the least authentic of the bunch, but I can pull off dresses and cowboy boots pretty well, so of course they invited me.

I'm also joking about most of the clothing related parts.

But I'm dead serious about enjoying playing music with these fellows. It feels so good and makes me so much happier.