Greetings From Grandma's!
Apparently there are three wireless networks at my disposal near grandmother's house. Sooooooo, blog time.
Let's see:
Being back in Jonesboro has been quite the interesting experience. Last night I went clubbing with my brother and his fiance; first we went to El Matador's, a basement club/Mexican restaurant - my cousin's band was playing there...no, not the cousin from Little Rock who has two albums...the one from Jonesboro.
Anywho-the music was delightful, the atmosphere was pleasant, but the food...
Well, let's build up to that. See, we ordered a dinner at 8. We didn't get our food until 9. My tamales were incredibly dry, and the rice and beans were possibly the most bland I've ever consumed.
After that, we hit The Brick House, a quaint little pub on the corner of Main and...and...some other street. Actually, it's two stories tall and quite the happening place, and lo and behold more live music from a fairly competent band. It was there that I learned to love Samuel Adams Summer Ale. Yesh. I, uh, I want to apologize for calling a certain person or two in my tipsy state.
Flash forward to this morning, which was wrought with frustration and more than a little heart ache. I won't go into details, but I visited with my great aunt and uncle (who is in terribly poor health).
Well...at least this afternoon was fun. THANKS MYSTERY FRIEND. And I figured out that I still can't take intimacy seriously. Don't take it the wrong way, everyone; I'm not laughing AT you. This brings back memories of a certain Lyon friend at a certain party at a certain ZBT frat house. Will I ever overcome this inhibition? SORRY MRS. JACKSON, I AM FOR REALLLLLL.
No art work this time, but I will leave you with a video that is close to my heart, and I'm off to read and talk on da phone:
Let's see:
Being back in Jonesboro has been quite the interesting experience. Last night I went clubbing with my brother and his fiance; first we went to El Matador's, a basement club/Mexican restaurant - my cousin's band was playing there...no, not the cousin from Little Rock who has two albums...the one from Jonesboro.
Anywho-the music was delightful, the atmosphere was pleasant, but the food...
Well, let's build up to that. See, we ordered a dinner at 8. We didn't get our food until 9. My tamales were incredibly dry, and the rice and beans were possibly the most bland I've ever consumed.
After that, we hit The Brick House, a quaint little pub on the corner of Main and...and...some other street. Actually, it's two stories tall and quite the happening place, and lo and behold more live music from a fairly competent band. It was there that I learned to love Samuel Adams Summer Ale. Yesh. I, uh, I want to apologize for calling a certain person or two in my tipsy state.
Flash forward to this morning, which was wrought with frustration and more than a little heart ache. I won't go into details, but I visited with my great aunt and uncle (who is in terribly poor health).
Well...at least this afternoon was fun. THANKS MYSTERY FRIEND. And I figured out that I still can't take intimacy seriously. Don't take it the wrong way, everyone; I'm not laughing AT you. This brings back memories of a certain Lyon friend at a certain party at a certain ZBT frat house. Will I ever overcome this inhibition? SORRY MRS. JACKSON, I AM FOR REALLLLLL.
No art work this time, but I will leave you with a video that is close to my heart, and I'm off to read and talk on da phone:
Click to view