Okay, it's official. In two weeks, I'll have to switch my "Current city" section on Facebook from "Charleston" to "Columbia." As mentioned in many previous posts, the feeling is truly bittersweet; I'm so ready to hit the ground running the second I get to the Capital City... but, oh, the wonderful Holy City! I miss you already.
There are several VISTAs who began their term around the same time I did, and it seems like every other week I'm saying good-bye to someone. As much as I hate hate HATE farewells, I do believe in a proper send-off with lots of good food... a kind of physically manifested sense of comfort through a happy tummy. In this particular case, we ventured to Kaminsky's, a dessert cafe and bar, as a final (delicious) hoorah for my VISTA pal, Ashley. Located in the heart of downtown Charleston on Market Street, Kaminsky's boasts freshly prepared, "most excellent" dessert. I had never even heard of the place; but the second I walked in, I was so happy my camera was on hand. It most certainly deserved a picture post.

First of all, I had a very vague concept of the joint; I was told "it's like a dessert place." I pictured this quaint little coffee shop type set up, and I guess it kind of was -- but with dark furniture, low-lighting, a full bar, lots of local art displayed on the walls, and waiters dressed in formal black serving attire. It's attached to the T-Bones Steakhouse restaurant, so it pulls in traffic from that side as well as from those simply looking for a treat. Bonus? We happened to get there early enough for my favorite time of the day: happy hour! Certain drinks were half-off or had special pricing, and some of the desserts had a couple of bucks knocked off. And while I had every intention of indulging already, I really didn't need the extra push... but when in Rome!


Oh my goodness, I could feel my pancreas start to freak as I glanced over both the dessert and "adult beverage" menus. Usually I go straight to one or two main things and become instantly obsessed, but this time I was infatuated with the entire sha-bang. Luckily I got there a little earlier than everyone else, so I had plenty of time to carefully gauge my sugar-tolerance. Once everyone arrived, I had finally settled on my selections: The Toll House cookie pie and a glass of (get this!) ChocoVine.... a special Cabernet wine blended with Dutch chocolate. Holy mother of Beethoven! I thought that only existed in my dreams!

Excuse the grain on the first picture; I didn't want to ruin the chocolaty perfection with my flash.
It was beyond delicious and our waiter, Damien, was gracious enough to heat up my pie upon request. The warm chocolaty, doughy pie went so well with the chilled glass of wine. The ChocoVine honestly tasted more like alcohol than chocolate (and that's not necessarily a complaint), but it still had the velvety liquid consistency of a dark red wine. My friends went for equally as scrumptious choices, and it was fun to pass the plates around and sample our wares.

Ashley & Kelly with their marvelous martinis.

Michelle, myself, and Jyn!

And such a 'sweet' fare-thee-well for Miss Ashley it was. All in all, I give this a 9 out of 10... the only reason I'm not giving up the extra point is because it was only 7pm and many of their desserts were scratched off the list because they sold out of it. But the service was excellent -- seriously, ask for Damien; he was a total gentleman, had a great sense of humor, and was spot-on the whole night despite us asking tons of questions. Their beverage menu is pretty expansive, even if you just wanted a 'plain' cocktail or a beer (they have a great variety of fun imported ones, too!). They also had plenty of non-alcoholic drinks to choose from if you wanted pure sugar instead of the alcoholic variety. And, of course, their desserts are all amazing and served in huge portions; at $5-7 a selection, it's a steal.
So, would I recommend Kaminsky's?

You bet.
Expert Tip: Always bring the best company. =)

Now, as far as the post-Kaminsky's diet and exercise plan... you're on your own. My suggestion? A long evening walk down the Battery... or rolling yourself home and immediately putting on a favorite pair of stretchy pants.

Hello St. Vincents. I want to formally thank you for the prompt reply to my billing inquiry. Why, just 344 days ago I had surgery on my birthday. That one surgery alone immediately maxed my yearly deductible and that one charge made for a fantastic pre-wedding present.

Two weeks later, you informed me that I had overpaid by some $84 dollars and the check would soon be delivered, akin to offering a band-aid to a man who survived a 400-foot fall down a cliff made of salt and broken glass.

Now, only 344 days later, I received said check.

You’re a special type of person, St. Vincents.

/grief

The old look.

Roll out the red carpet and throw on a sparkly ensemble... the new blog premiere is here!
Okay, so maybe it's not Hollywood worthy, but I'm happy with the new look and think the change is pretty stinkin' snazzy. It took me longer than I anticipated (hence the slack in actual postings), but I'm always my own worst critic and dwelled on the picky details more than I probably should. But after John's approval and letting it froth in cyberspace over the weekend, I decided it's time to officially unveil the new look.

Aside from the new layout, which I hope will be conducive to the many pictures I hope to add, you'll find a few new tabs that explain more about the actual blog and myself. My hope is this will bait and hook new readers (I'm reciprocal follower and love stumbling on new blogs!), and that this will also shed some light for you long-time readers. And, you guessed it: Feedback, whether good, bad, or totally indifferent, will be taken into full consideration and most appreciated!
- - - - -
The newly launched site couldn't have come at a better time. Things have been stressful over the last few weeks since I got back from vacation. On one hand, I've felt this incessant need to fully experience everything that's going on while still in Charleston; on the other, I'm itching to get to Columbia and get settled quickly into my new life as a grad student. It's exhausting. In between it all, I've been a basket-case worrying myself into sleepless tizzies over other chaotic worries: - my Level 3 improv recital is 9 days away and I don't feel ready... at all. - I'm already missing lots of my Charleston peeps.- the new transition will send me from poor to poorer ("starving" artist to "ravenous," if you will) with the highly potential debt of school, living expenses, funding an upcoming trip out of state to celebrate a good friend's nuptials, and replacing an ailing computer looming darkly over my head.- packing... makes me want to yakkity-YAK.- dealing with the wanna-be bureaucrats in the financial and admissions departments of my chosen institution of higher education has already been a daunting experience... it's bound to get worse.- and, well, the lazy-hazy days of summer are coming to an end... always a very unsettling realization. =(
And after several mini break-downs and snotty-nosed, sob-filled Skype chats with John, I was scared of spending the next three weeks being completely out-of-sorts. But then I found much needed relief during a Friday afternoon yoga session in the form of a simple question: "What do you want?" My instructor, Mandy, used this question to center our focus for the class - what's something that immediately comes to mind? Anything! In honesty, the question caught me off guard, but my answer was straight forward and simple: "I just want it to work out."
And that's it. I know I can dig up the strength, energy, and positive attitude I need... I just want to be sure it will all turn out OK. As I sank into each pose and tried to shut off the ping-pong of thoughts in my head (the "mental chatter," as Mandy calls it), I realized I'd be no good to my future-self if I maintained my frazzled demeanor. And as it turned out, the weekend proved to be a very productive one. Not only were things scratched off the ever present "to do" list, but I was able to get in some much needed chats with friends and family... with each conversation I felt shrouds of the weight melt away, and it's certainly given me more mental wiggle-room to worry about more important things. I'm working hard to make sure this productive spirit serves me well into the week ahead.
Please accept my pre-apologies for being sporadic over the next few weeks, and I really hope there will be fun things to post in between it all. I'm already nostalgic for Charleston and get particularly caught up when I think how much I've changed this year. More importantly, I get teary thinking of the people who lent to that change and how terribly I'm going to miss them. But overall, I'm happy with my decision to return to Columbia and continue to develop my purpose in life.
... yes, I think it's going to work out just fine. =)

Whew! So, obviously, I didn't quite get around to blogging as much as I hoped while on vacation. It's really hard to come up with a grammatically sound (much less, complete) sentence when you're intoxicated on saltwater breezes and sunshine... okay, and maybe the daily happy hour added to that. To make up for my slack performance, today's post is a double whammy: foodie post + tourist attraction review (x photos) = awesome comeback blog!

A few weeks ago, my friends Minh and Anne (you'll remember them from my foodie post about W.O.K.) and myself ventured to the Charleston harbor overlooking Ravenel Bridge to take part in the Blues & BBQ Cruise. We made sure to get there in plenty of time as we vowed not to be "those girls" who held up the boat. Though we arrived about 20min early, we were bested by several large groups who took up all the good spots. There are only a few actual family-sized tables; the rest are picnic style, which is fine if you're up for making friends (which naturally, we did). The boat is divided into two levels, the bottom being enclosed and "climate controlled" (we're guessing the climate they were going for was "rain forest," but it could've been worse); the top part is where you can find the bar and music.

So right as 7pm beckoned, we were off. Phase One immediately commenced: THE FOOD! Ahhh, BBQ: One of those magically delicious foods that's so simple but satisfies. I don't discriminate on what kind of sauce, either... vinegar, mustard, tomato... I love them all equally and shamelessly slather it over my pulled pork (don't worry, they have chicken, too). Tonight's dinner came from Home Team Barbecue, and I almost forgot to take pictures because I was so excited to dig in. It's buffet style, so you're welcome to go as dainty or heavy as you'd like... and at $40 a ticket, you BET I'm piling it on. Wash it down with ice cold sweet tea and bless my heart!, I suddenly feel the need to add "Lou" or "Mae" to my name...

On to Phase 1.2: SECONDS. Being the DHEC (but unfortunately not-so environmentally) friendly gals we are, we appropriately dispose of the first round and move on to the next. We get back in line and load up once more... only to find they've run out of forks. Say WHAAAT? No worries, we still have-- oh wait, no we don't. Jokingly, the young caterer dude says we can use two knives as chopsticks...

Are we sure about this?

(PS. My hair is pulled back in this one, thanks to the "climate".. I did not, in fact, pull it out from fork deprivation.)

Minh: "Allow me to demonstrate."

Here goes nothin'...
Success!
After our BBQ "fusion" and adjusting our attire to fit our amply stuffed bellies, we make our way up to the top deck to take part in music appreciation with the band, Shrimp City Slim, already in full swing. Phase Two: CRUISIN' TO THE BLUES. I'm definitely more a jazz girl myself, but these guys were lively and I found it equally as impressive they kept up such a great show despite the rocky boat ride. The boat is pretty tight and we had to stand awkwardly in a corner (NOT very enjoyable as I had made the stupid decision to wear heels), but the choppy waters ended up working in our favor. An older couple couldn't handle the wave action, so they left their seats at the front of the row, leaving us to do the polite 2min wait... then swoop in!

From there, it was a wonderfully breezy ride around the Ashley River, serenaded by lots of great music... and the occasional big boat. We couldn't have picked a better night, and it was definitely worth the price of admission. A couple of things to remember if you ever get a chance to go:

1) Get there WAY early to claim your spot if you have a big group.
2) If you are a sea-sickish person, I don't think I'd recommend it.
3) Heels = No good.
4) Keep your outfit simple... it gets HOT on the bottom deck.
5) Bring a good attitude. You'll be on a very tight spot with lots of other folks!
6) Bring a camera! You'll see gorgeous sunsets and awesome views of the Ravenel Bridge (the boat actually goes under it!). I actually have a LOAD of other pictures from the night; message me to see more.
7) Cash if helpful for the bar, tipping the 'Que dudes, and also buying your commemorative $5 photo... which, I so happened to have exactly $5 on me that night, and it was too cute not to pass up.
8) It's really great for a date, for groups, tourists, and locals alike. Just be sure to buy your tickets early and prepare for rain or shine!


(Tip: Can't see the photos very well? Click on them for a larger view!)

I love being American because I am free to watch America's Funniest Home Videos and they are hilarious! 4th of July is may favorite holiday in the year because it is full of all of my favorite things: spending time with those you love, fireworks, watermelon, cookouts, red white & blue, flags, history, music, dancing, warm weather, and the beach.

I don't care too much for THanksgiving or Christmas because we've never had a lot of family around during these holidays so it has usually been a boring holiday with the same 4 people every year. Cool, we open presents for an hour then have nothing to do for the rest of the day. COol, we have a huge dinner that we can't eat but have hours worth o cooking and cleaning. Now, in the future as my family grows I hope to enjoy EVERY holiday and make sure to always spend it with as many people that I love as possibe.

Right now, I am just going to take life a day at a time and enjoy as many holidays I can with friends and family. These days are only as good as you make them :D

On another note, I wish SNL and the Muppet show would combine. It would be briliant!

-- "Let Go," by Frou Frou

There's a scene in the movie Garden State, one of my very most favoritest films, where Sam (Natalie Portman) turns to Andrew (Zach Braff), or "Largeman," and says:

"This is your one opportunity to do something that no one has ever done before and that no one will copy throughout human existence. And if nothing else, you will be remembered as the one guy who ever did this. This one thing."

To which she does this fabulous little spaz of a dance and blurts silly noises.
(Tried to find a YouTube clip, but no luck. Looks like you'll have to watch the movie!)

We're always taught to emulate the good people and learn from the mistakes of those who maybe didn't consider the consequences, for whatever the reason, and so far learning and/or leading by example has worked considerably well. But isn't it nice to think that there are moments were we truly own and made happen exactly what's going on, even if just in that moment? Something we did and chose to do with all the gusto of our deepest inner being... and, regardless of whether or not there's a significant result once that moment passes, sometimes just the thought of knowing we took a chance on ourselves provides a much needed shift in our spiritual and mental paths. But, oh!, when something in the world does connect with our conscience and we try even harder... the possibilities defy all odds!

It's been a crazy week news-wise, which I deemed this post to be fitting, but I've also seen personally within myself and in others just what can be accomplished by stepping out of the box and finally taking the first step. It's been an inspiration and a comfort to me; the sight that hope, happiness, and brazen excitement still exists in a world so innately tragic is damn fine thing.

As for me, I feel like I've slowly tapped at an inner strength no power bar or vitamin as afforded me yet, and I'm finding more complacency in parts of my life that generally run nothing short of chaotic. I hope the rest of the summer allows me to continue this new "inner workout" so that when game time comes in the fall, I'm in tip top condition to make it through at a personal best. No spandex shorts required.

I have a lot of blogging material on stand-by, and I hope I can get it all together before I take off for vacay next week (talk about excitement!). So I encourage you to check back often. And, in the meantime, I encourage you further to take time out and do your own spaz of a dance and blurt silly noises. The freeing sensation alone is wonderful; the thought you could do something no one else in human existence could ever do... I'll let you experience it for yourself. =)

I’m talking about that guy up there. Forrest. My friend, your friend, all-around nice guy. Or so I thought.

As you probably didn’t read in my earlier post, I don’t dig the soccer thing, the World Cup thing and most definitely don’t dig the vulvazella thing. Well, this weekend Forrest came down to hang out with Diana and I. Beer flowed and good food fell from heaven. And along the way, Forrest got me to watch the America/Ghana soccer game. Since I’ve always considered myself the best thing that’s ever happened to Forrest (with the notable exception of Liz), I decided to give it a go; really get into a soccer game.

I asked questions, learned player names and actually felt happy when some guy, Donovan or something, scored on a penalty kick. After about 110 minutes of soccer action, I’ll admit to being hooked like a meth head after his first hit on the communal pipe.

Then we lost. And I blame Forrest, I think that’s fair.

This year, the 48 hour film festival was different. Different in a number of ways, mostly good, and in one way very bad. Let’s start with the good ways.

The Times-Union team featured an all TU staff this year, no professional script writers, actors or trophy-chasing producers. We were a bunch of hearty, motivated, sleep-depraved souls with more talent in a twist of our pubic hair than in the entire self-aggrandizing bodies of years past. That is to say, we rocked.

Upon learning our genre (sci-fi) at 6:30 p.m. Friday, we immediately began brain storming the story line. Short story shorter, we went with Luis’ idea: A woman **plot removed until the screening, you nosy bastards** description. The four script writers, Luis, Timothy, Topher and myself were locked in room dripping with caffeine and inspiration and by 11 a.m. we had the storyboard complete and began on the actual script writing. Lots of deep-dicking jokes later, it was 5 a.m. and by God, we had a script. A script! Normally I’d try to explain the significance of this in a few sentences, but unless you’ve chased after the greased up pig that is the 48 hour film festival, it won’t matter.

Oh, I should mention – this is where the movie began to go awry. We had two main objectives this year: Be an all-TU team and include as many of those people on screen as possible. The lede actress was an obvious choice; the talented and tow-headed Julie. While reviewing our actor list, Luis Tim, Topher and I realized that we had little choice but to cast one person in the lede actor role – your sweet Nuinca. Since I’ve used every stupid literary trick in this blog post except for analogies, let’s us this one. Casting me as the leading man was like having the Joker let you decide which family member of yours should die first – your wife or your son. No good choices and our situation was worse because it’ll never follow with an awesome sequel featured the Penguin (please, Chris Nolan, if you’re reading this.)

Anyway, the scripters and I broke up around 5, ran home to get our costumes and met back at the paper around 6:30 a.m. I can only speak for Luis and I, but at this point we had both been up right at 24 hours. The movie hadn’t started shooting yet.

While I, the lead and least talented actor, was memorizing my lines that morning, shooting began around 8:30. By 9 I was in my suit and pacing in the paper warehouse that was my character’s office. Due to a potent combination of nerves and heat stroke, I can’t guarantee what happened between then and 2 p.m. Saturday morning, but I’m sure other people would be willing to fill you in. I remember sweat, bottles of sticky wine and talking about my borrowed Megatron cufflinks.

After a short break we were back in action, filming the majority of the scenes. I had thankfully found an easy way to escape to air-conditioning between takes. No heat stroke FTW!

After a time out, the blog is back! And there's been a lot of sports television happening since the last post. Amidst the great games, drama, and back stories, there is a new technological development in the works - and it will be here for everyone before you know it - 3D.

At the Masters at Augusta this year, ESPN treated us to a 3D broadcast of the tournament. They had piles of glasses on tables in the media center, and anyone could stroll up, don the glasses, and be mesmerized. Or nauseous. Or ambivelant. 3D golf actually looked pretty cool, although not perfected just yet. Certain objects featured a very pronounced 3D look, such as overhanging tree limbs, deep bunkers, and grandstands - while others were barely noticable. Graphics were kind of wacky to watch as they appeared on screen, seemingly floating in space about 100 yards in front of anything else. And they wiggled up and down very slightly, which would get old pretty fast, especially after viewers were a few pints deep at their favorite sports watering hole.

Still, 3D is the future of sports television. Rumor has it that the technology is also being developed to eliminate the need for the goggles at all. Before you know it, we'll all be watching our favorite sports in full, vivid, in-your-face 3D. Except for Texas Hold 'Em. For the love of God, we do not need to see poker in 3D.

This is an open letter to the million, billions or trillions of World Cup fans out there:

Please leave me alone. If I was in Germany, Spain, or God forbid, France, I would be willing to pretend to give a shit. But I’m not. I’m in America, land of the free and home of the rotund. I shouldn’t be bombarded with people’s faux enthusiasm, overpriced Real Madrid jerseys and CONSTANT vevuzela references.

I don’t care about your single-score games, boring dive tackles or the “did you know the average soccer player runs 12 miles per game?!” facts. If soccer players were bigger they would play rugby or football. If there were faster they would be track athletes. If they had better coordination they would be baseball players. If they were any smarter they would have graduated elementary school.

There. That made me feel better.

Go USA!

Blogging friends, Facebook-ians, and cyber countrymen,
Lend me your ears! (Or is it your eyes?) Dad-blasted.... Just listen up.

Summer's in full swing, which means my VISTA project and general happenings at my site are coming to a slow dwindle. Now that the office is quiet and a little slack, I find myself frequenting favorite internet sites a little more during down time; one of them being, of course, Facebook.

Ahhh, Facebook. The reason for so many online "reunions," a chance to run a farm or a city with no degree required, a special space to make your life one giant, open book... and to bring your hopes and dreams to a crushing, surprising demise. Now, I'll admit: When Facebook first began as a silly experiment (does anyone remember the actual WALL you wrote on?), I put some things up that are classified as "Embarrassing" by now. I've since tried to "bite my tongue" as the world has gotten smaller and I have to very wary of who and what can access my information. But as I've had more time to doof around and see what my friends ("friends"?) are up to, I've come to the realization about several things that just don't seem kosher when it comes to Facebook... Yes, readers, I'm about to get sassy.

1. There really should be a status-per-day limit. Is it really necessary to tell me EXACTLY what's going on or going through your head every 30min? I have _X_ amount of friends ("friends"?), and I really don't appreciate you taking up 80% of my news feed with your daily chore list and every emotional reaction you experience. And do you really want everyone knowing how boring or big of a nutcase you are? Even the priest cuts you off after so long in confession, and that's the juicy stuff! I suggest you learn the art of summarizing, or find something to do with yourself that's interesting. I've heard lion taming is the next hot thing.

2. You do know music lyrics are copyrighted, yes? Listen, we all have those days, bad and good, where sometimes there's a song that speaks to exactly what we're feeling. That's why music is such a powerful thing. But when your statuses (statusi?) are non-stop dribble from American Top 40, I begin to wonder when you've taken up being a walking karaoke machine. I'm scared to hold an in-person conversation with you for fear you're going to answer with Black-Eyed Peas cliches. How about you get creative and write the musical notes from Mozart or Chopin: "E-Flat D-Minor A-halfnote F G C... yup, just been one of those days." (<-- I made those notes up.) Or better yet, go scat! "Deedle dee do-op shmood-lee poo-boo-be-bop YEAAAH!" Celia likes this.

3. Why should I celebrate your 21st by watching you get trashed when you've been illegally blacking-out for years? Okay, so maybe there was a time or two when I was not-of-age and attended a house party or two with definitely of-age beverages. ("Whaddya mean that wasn't plain Kool-Aid?! I don't believe you, give me more so I can prove you wrong!") But for the most part, I waited my turn and had a proper inebriation celebration. But seriously? When your entire wall post and photo content consist of you engaging in trashy business since you were 13, an invitation to your "craaaazy!" 21st is like trying to suggest Red Lobster as fine dining. Don't use your birthday as a cheap ploy to get me to buy your booze for the night. In fact, YOU should buying ME drinks for keeping your dirty secret for so long.

4. Quoting Bible verses and posting joyous, whimsical statuses does not negate the fact you're a huge b*tch. Sorry, John, I know you don't like me using the "B" word; but if walks like a duck, sounds like a duck, and sure smells like a duck... Anyway. Listen, I'm just as big of a God-fearing girl as the next person; and also I understand you can love Jesus but drink a little. Yet just because you pronounce how blessedly magical your life is and/or how love or some higher power has washed over you like a sparkly rainbow waterfall... it doesn't take away the fact you're a rude, drama-inducing individual in real life and that there's living proof posted to your profile suggesting otherwise. Again, we're all human and prone to slips, but me thinks some of thee dost protest too loudly...

5. We get it. You're sick. For the bagillionth time this year. Listen, this is Facebook... not WebMD. Instead of wasting time posting 100x's a day about your projectile phlegm or swollen cranium, how about, oh I don't know, go get it checked out?? I'm sure not going to invite you out if you're going to be Debbie Disgusting the whole time. Or is it sympathy you're looking for? If that's the case, there's this thing called "support groups," and I sure know plenty of therapists looking for work. In the meantime, I'll be inclined to remove you from my friend list -- hypochondriac or not -- for fear your potential germs could somehow infect me via news feed.

6. Flashing the gangsta-quasi-peace sign in EVERY picture does not make me think you're hardcore, cool, or in anyway make me wish I be your BFF. Really. It's stupid. Until you've lived a day in Compton or sold your shoes to raise money for the orphans, I really don't get why you do it. This also goes for having your mouth gaping wide open, wearing your sunglasses in a dark bar, making sure your beverage of choice winds up in every photo, and posting the almost same exact shot 20x's. (Whatever happened to a nice side hug and saying "cheese"??) At least make some effort to make them entertaining. Experiment with your hand gestures and funny faces. Wear a sombrero. Or better yet? Just go out to have a good time without documenting every waking second. If you need a camera to piece together your nights, as mentioned earlier, there's this thing called "support groups"....

7. Continuous posting of articles by educated people does not make you educated. I'm a firm believer in the power of social media as an instant means of distributing information, and goodness knows I've posted lots of things as well as stumbled on some great pieces posted by friends. But good gracious, adding a slew of articles on your wall written by world renowned physicists, environmentalists, journalists, and political analysts grants you no academic merit. Last I checked Facebook 101 is not a college requirement.

8. Other random things that wet my willies: Spoiler statuses, baby fetus sonogram pictures, not giving credit to others for stealing their links or photos, adding a "signature" to the end of a comment (no really, it already says your name), not returning love left on your wall, having full-fledged conversations on a post or picture, getting 24 notifications because of a full-fledged conversation on something you wistfully "liked" in passing, continuous berating or negative statuses, asking me to join your really questionable group, and misquoting or bending the real story in a posted link.

Sigh. I promise I'm not usually this contemptuous (quit snickering in the corner over there, you!). It's an observation, and I'm sure you good folks reading this don't fall into any of these categories; and good Lord knows I've probably tripped a nerve with something I have or don't realize I'm doing (now's your chance to speak up or shut up... choose wisely). Bottom line, we all really need to take a step back and see what we're projecting through the lens of cyberspace. At the end of the day, those posted links, pictures, and comments aren't just type on a silly website. Whether we chose to believe it or not, Facebook has become the great connector; and with it comes great need for restriction. It's scary to think who can see what we do and have a recorded history of it. It's scarier that people are misjudged because they feel safe behind the computer and don't realize how it comes across on another person's screen.

(Found this on a blog entitled "Sick Facebook"... and who doesn't love talking animals?!)

And to those I may have offended: Put it in a status and call it a day already.

I'm one work day away from the weekend, and I have a feeling it's going to be a good one. (Like!)

Nothing says “modern gal” like Chinese food; watch any sitcom or Lifetime movie about a indepent lady with a sharp tongue and a packed PDA and there’s always that classic scene where we find her sitting in her messy apartment in her underpants: hair undone, glasses on, and working fervently on a report with her trusty lo mien and chopsticks standing by her side. Nothing says dedication like those little crispy noodles on top.

Now, I’m a sucker for the hole-in-the-wall Asian restaurants; but as my body decides it likes more to retain calories on my hips instead of being appropriately expended into energy (although I’m usually in desperate need of a nap after The Grand Buffett), I have to start making compromises with my favorite food choices. And, boy oh boy, am I in luck! In the mid-fall of last year, I was introduced to W.OK. (World Oriental Kitchen) while attending my friend Anne’s birthday dinner. I’m always pretty weary of those ultra-cool Asian fusion places; I would much rather high-tail it to the local greasy joint and risk the MSG-induced sweats than eat my fried rice from a martini glass and have a splitting headache from the bass-driven techno tunes. But WOK proves to be that happy medium between the “mom-‘n-papa-son” place and the super-trendy digs. The décor is nice balance between simple yet chic, an overall very clean but comfortable atmosphere.

Located on King Street downtown, W.O.K. is like the Subway of the East. You walk in and pick your base which is usually rice and/or noodles with veggies (I love the skinny rice noodles). From there, you pick your “toppings” from a variety of meats and vegetables, including the typical Asian faves like tofu, edamame, and bamboo shoots. What’s nice is you pay for what you want; I tend to naturally stick to more veggie rich dishes when eating Chinese, so I can load up on lots of flavorful colors and textures without breaking the bank or feeling sluggish afterwards. Lastly, you pick your sauce and they sauté your creation to perfection (I highly recommend the house plum-based sauce: a little sweet, a little spicy, but never heavy or slimy). They also have a variety of teas, wines, sakes, and beers if you’re in the mood to hang out a while. Once you’ve placed your order, pick your seat and within minutes they bring out your piping hot bowl of deliciousness.


(Check out my hot dates: Anne (L) and Minh (R), who always are there to encourage me to finish my plate.)

Of course there are similar places, but a few things set W.O.K. apart:
.::. For one, they’re very locally focused. There’s a general support for all things Charleston, not to mention a big portion of their food comes from South Carolina farmers and manufacturers. This tends to be a slight drawback in that they often run out of things if there is a bad season or the shipment is delayed, but it’s so nice to actually have honest-to-goodness taste and no processed after-dinner-bloat. It also heavily supports the Slow Food movement, which is very cool indeed.
.::. They have a great happy hour on their beverages and appetizers and lots of daily specials. I wish I had discovered their Facebook Fan Page sooner; if you’re a Charlestonian you might be able to jump on a last minute deal. If you’re planning a vacation to the Holy City soon, you can look ahead and plan your visit to WOK to take advantage of a great deal!
.::. WOK is one of the few places that tries hard to implement sustainable practices, and it’s refreshing to see them live it and not boast it for notoriety. Lots of the décor is made of recycled materials, the lights are LED and kept low to save on energy, the restrooms are water and energy efficient, the disposable silverware is the compostable corn-based material, and they have recycle bins to sort out the waste from the reusable. Whether you’re a tree-hugger or not, you can’t deny that efforts to go green are a win-win for all!
.::. You get a lot of food for a very reasonable price. My typical bill is around $10-12 for dinner, and I’ll usually have enough food leftover to bring to work for lunch the next day. Usually… depends on the kind of day I’m having. ;)
.::. They have these nifty little screen lights on your table; there’s a small button that changes the screen from red to blue which lets the kitchen staff know to check on your table. Need some more sauce? Allow me! *click*

So while my inner sassy girl-on-the-go will always hold a special place for the oil-drenched eggrolls and crispy sweet-and-sour chicken of the Hong Kong Panda Dragon China King’s, I’m happy to support WOK and it’s mantra of creating better food for a better world by providing fresh, Asian inspired favorites... letting your hair down and coming in your underpants is optional.

**Update! Upon double checking in on their Facebook page, I see they have sushi now, too! Praise be Buddah, how delish!

Just having one of those nights where I feel like I need to run barefoot at 100mph and do a belly flop in the ocean. I've got a knot in my throat consisting of recent repressed anxious energy, and I feel the need to shake and shimmy until the rattles of my Pandora induced spasms break up the nervous thoughts colliding in my brain. Oiy, over-stimulation with minimal attention to my healthy outlets... I feel like a 3rd grader jacked up on birthday cake playing High School Musical Chairs (oh yes, it does exist).

The elementary schools I work with had their last day of school today. It hasn't hit me just yet, but I know Monday's going to be weird without doing my daily site visits every afternoon. It more importantly signifies the final stretch of my AmeriCorps term and the immediate life shift that will take place in August. I have so much yet to do and figure out, both in my current existence in Charleston and my future planning in Columbia, and it's creating a sizable stress load. I'm just feeling a tad off; I'm normally very Type-A and organized down to the color-coding and personal hierarchical system of present needs. But I feel so scattered lately and my sloppy "to do list" is getting frustratingly chaotic.

But, mon cheries, 'tis my own burden and I'll sort it out in due time. And by due, I mean "due or die." (You like zee play on words, no?) I'm hoping once I sort out this new schedule, take the time to make a legitimate game plan, and attend to the mundane tasks I've been avoiding, I can properly attempt the more enjoyably productive endeavors that have been manifesting in my creative inner-workings. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for the support! I really do hope this is worth maintaining....

With that, Happy Weekend, and I'll have more in a few days. :)

My silly poops, always there when I'm having a crazy moment.

I am attracted to tall, tan, handsome men. Who is attracted to me? DARK homeless men. This is at least the typical person who asks me to dinner. Really??

I went to Hemingway Plaza to enjoy the sights of downtown and the beautiful sunshine. 5 minutes into my lovely experience a man waves at me and buys me a soda. While it started off nice to make a new friend it ended so weird. I don;t understand the thoughts of men. Just because YOU think someone is beautiful doesn't give you the right to assume they want to spend time with you. What's in it for me to go to dinner with a 50 year old man who has never gone to college, is on a disability check and smells like a garbage can? Is there anyone that would challenge that I or ANYONE else needs to give an explanation?

While you ponder this, I will be spraying myself with Victoria Secret body spray. [done] I am not tring to be rude but I think it should be the duty of men to keep their opinion of women to their friends and friends of the girl. Take a lesson from this homeless man and don't be so forward. It's unbecoming of a gentleman.





Other than that, I still love downtown. I may not want to live in Springfield by myself anymore since strange men can't follow the rules but I think downtown is amazing and there is a lot of things to do!

I have a flippity-gillion thoughts floating in my head, and I've made a deal with myself to spit them out a little bit better now that school is coming to a close and things are winding down. Suffice it to say that the summer bloggings will more than likely consist of updates on the ol' Charleston Bucket List, which are surprisingly coming along, and unrelated "Philoso-C's" (ponderings by yours truly). I need reassurance that I am, indeed, as wonderfully ridiculous in my precocious views of the world as I imagine.

As one of my projects is revamping my blog, I've got a few ideas for a new intro header... but it's majorly still in the works. John and I went out and played on Sullivan's Island recently (right after the Sesame date, described below), taking pictures along the water with the incredible afternoon sun that I'm convinced can only appropriately be appreciated as far from the bustle of society as possible. With his help, we set up a few shots that may work well (we hope) and I edited a few I liked. I'll let you decide. Side note: You can click on the pictures for a larger view!

Picture 1:
Serious-yet-whimsical-Celia.
Definitely in the running, but I'm not sure it's "me" enough for my chaotic excuse for a blog. So, perhaps we should go with...

Picture 2:
Celia-gets-hit-in-the-face-by-a-giant-nasty-bug.
Surprisingly, it's the photographic embodiment of "the story of my life." I'm trying to be cute, pull off something meaningful, and take things a little seriously... and I get smacked with something totally unpleasant. Let's keep looking. Ooooh!...

Picture 3:
Dancer Pose!
Wildly attempting to pull off one of my favorite yoga poses to loosen up and find inspiration, and suddenly remembered how my yoga instructor, Mandy, always talks about grounding into the earth... and for once I actually could, and it made me so happyyyy!!!

Okay, last one.
Picture 4:
"Oh, hah-lo, and welcome to mai blog."
I did make it to the Charleston Tea Plantation (where this photo was taken), and thought maybe I could really bring on the cheese by putting my blog title in the corner. ;) Just a thought!

For now, I have a busy week ahead with work (last week of school until summer, whoooa!), and my Chihuahuas are already snoring in my bed. I shall join them.

In Bible study, a woman shared her story about being a mother. A few days/weeks ago, her daughter said something really hurtful to her. She cried and told her daughter that was not nice to say. Although she moved past it, she knew she now had a wall up between she and her daughter. How is it that those we love most we hurt most with our words? We know everything about that person which over time forms intimacy and in one second can be used as a lethal weapon? I know exactly what to say to my mother to show her how much she has disappointed me, herself, and everyone else. My sister knows exactly what to say to shut me up when she doesn't want to hear what I have to say that might be unpleasant. Is it even my place to say anything in the firstplace? Is it my mother's?

This all comes down to the question: what is family and the meaning of the relationship mother, daughter, and sister? Is it our role to love, teach, and correct or just to love? What if the person you love is destroying themselves by our own individual standards? My sister is a beautiful person but she has this wall up and I think I may have helped put it there. Now when I try to tear it down and help her open up, she tears me down. My mother lives in her horrible past and doesn;t see how bright her future can be, is it my role to stay quiet and let her be miserable? I think I am getting the answers to these questions but I won't ever like it. Family is just that. Individuals who have to lead their own lives where they are comfortable. I'd rather not have to treat my sister like a mother but she won't listen to anyone and won't talk to anyone.

I don't know what else to say right now because I am just very hurt and this time I don't feel like brushing it off. She says mean things to me all of the time to get me to stop talking. nothing she does is ever wrong and in her opinion, if it is wrong, she doesn't care because it's her life. There are several things in life that are wrong and need to be stopped because it will kill you one day whether it is physically, emotionally, or spiritually. If you aren't open to hearing other people's concern who actually love you sooo much they would literally die for you, then you have something worse off coming. You'll lose these people. Then all you have is your tv and online social networking.

I'm thrilled to announce that I finally made the effort to bring my camera along to one of my very favoritest dining establishments and take time to make mental notes as to why I just adore it. John (my super cool boyfriend, to you new readers) encouraged me to give a stab; here goes.

So, we ventured to North Charleston, SC -- the site of my current AmeriCorps term. Originally, we had every intention to set out and check out the first ever gay pride parade in the Charleston area. Well, delayed by an overdue Saturday morning sleep-in and subsequent coffee conversation... we never quite made it to the parade. However, we did meet up my supervisor from work and a few of her North Charleston pals at "the pub" with many avid parade goers. Close enough. :)

Early afternoon finally brought on the stomach rumbles, so we made the quick jaunt down the street to Sesame Burgers & Beer. It's a local favorite for sure, but one of the ever popular questions I get when I tell lowcountry folks I work in North Charleston: "OMG! Have you ever been to Sesame?" Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen. I have.

This pic is actually stolen from Charleston Daily Photo blog. I forgot to snap one on the way out!

One of the best features of this place is there's literally something for everyone. Of course the burgers are fantastic, but they have all these crazy soups, salads, appetizers, and sandwiches (almost forgot desserts!)... any palate can be satisfied! I also love that the burgers can be prepared for any diet: beef, turkey, grilled chicken, or black bean (my personal favorite). Check out the menu on the web page for details on the different combos and toppings. Further, they house make the ketchup (has a hint of garlic and extremely yummy) and pickles - slightly sweet and tangy! Also, sides are additional which at first I thought was a rip off. But I quickly learned the burgers are more than enough food, so it hasn't bothered me. However, their sweet potato fries are amazing and it's often a special splurge.

My all time favorite meal at Sesame is the slider plate; I can never make up my mind and am spoiled when it comes to variety, so it's great for the indecisive. I highly recommend the Gourmet, the Italian, and the South Carolina. (Okay, I was actually so excited for my lunch and beyond starving, so I downed most of my South Carolina slider before I remembered to start snapping pictures. Luckily John has the large, beefy version on his plate!)

And did I mention they have an super beer selection? Another palate pleasing selection and often lots of happy hour specials. My new favorite is Dundee's Honey Brown Ale; goes down smooth like a dark beer with a crisp, clean, slightly sweet finish. A tad pricey, but I'd rather have one of those guys than a couple of cheap brews any day.


The Sesame family grew a few months ago when it opened its 2nd store in the Citadel Mall in West Ashley, but I think I'll always be loyal to the "Upchuck" location. I love how it's literally a hole-in-the-wall place and looks a little less than stellar on the outside, but once you get inside you instantly feel the warm, eclectic feel of the place. Only thing is to go at a random time because the lunch and dinner rush can leave you waiting a while. But with a fully stocked bar and 65 beers to choose from, the wait for your delicious burger is worth it. :)

I'm not ready to date other people right now, just the thought of it makes me sad and nervous. I need to do my own thing for a bit and enjoy where I am at this point in my life. Sadly, I think this weekend will have been the last time I speak with Andy for awhile. It's just too hard. Anyway...signing off for now and waiting.