Obligatory Update
So here's what I be doing guys:
This Saturday was my roommate Graham's birthday party - it was a potluck. I made currywurst and the other (German speaking) roomie Mark made pflammekuchen, and this one crazy lady made the biggest salad we have ever seen. We still have it, and it isn't aging well, but we're going to eat it damnit because it's free food. Graham hadn't been feeling well, so he really didn't party much, but Mark and I broke into a bottle of grappa, which is a horrible, horrible wine derivative that tastes like kerosene smells. We were basically a couple of intoxicated, German speaking jerks. We played a game of "Guess Who You Are," where people pick names and tape them to other's foreheads. I got made fun of because 1) one of my selections for another player was "Cervantes" and no one but the person whose head I taped it to knew who the author was and 2) someone taped an N'SYNC member to my head and everyone had to take pity on me and feed me his name piecewise so we could end the game. Pop culture is to me what high culture is to everyone else: completely unknown.
I alos bought my own, real, live Christmas tree for a second time. I even brought the mother-fucker in and set it up by myself. Lighting and decorations are courtesy of me and Graham, and I'll post pictures someday... maybe... I really should because in our cute little house it really is stunning. We need some garland or somesuch other seasonal decoration for these columns we have which divide the living and dining rooms, but other than that the house is set for holiday-good-times. My roommates also got Advent's Calendars courtesy of Trader Joe's, and they better remember to put their shoes out for St. Nikolaus Tag. Also, I need an Advent wreath elsewhere than my Mac's Dashboard.
It is still a bit lonely here because I haven't had a chance to build up a network of friends yet, but I love Nashville, I love Vanderbilt, I love my roommates, and I think everything else will shake down with time. It's just the fact that I cannot skip forward to the part where I'm okay that makes me absolutely batty.
This Saturday was my roommate Graham's birthday party - it was a potluck. I made currywurst and the other (German speaking) roomie Mark made pflammekuchen, and this one crazy lady made the biggest salad we have ever seen. We still have it, and it isn't aging well, but we're going to eat it damnit because it's free food. Graham hadn't been feeling well, so he really didn't party much, but Mark and I broke into a bottle of grappa, which is a horrible, horrible wine derivative that tastes like kerosene smells. We were basically a couple of intoxicated, German speaking jerks. We played a game of "Guess Who You Are," where people pick names and tape them to other's foreheads. I got made fun of because 1) one of my selections for another player was "Cervantes" and no one but the person whose head I taped it to knew who the author was and 2) someone taped an N'SYNC member to my head and everyone had to take pity on me and feed me his name piecewise so we could end the game. Pop culture is to me what high culture is to everyone else: completely unknown.
I alos bought my own, real, live Christmas tree for a second time. I even brought the mother-fucker in and set it up by myself. Lighting and decorations are courtesy of me and Graham, and I'll post pictures someday... maybe... I really should because in our cute little house it really is stunning. We need some garland or somesuch other seasonal decoration for these columns we have which divide the living and dining rooms, but other than that the house is set for holiday-good-times. My roommates also got Advent's Calendars courtesy of Trader Joe's, and they better remember to put their shoes out for St. Nikolaus Tag. Also, I need an Advent wreath elsewhere than my Mac's Dashboard.
It is still a bit lonely here because I haven't had a chance to build up a network of friends yet, but I love Nashville, I love Vanderbilt, I love my roommates, and I think everything else will shake down with time. It's just the fact that I cannot skip forward to the part where I'm okay that makes me absolutely batty.