Nashfest

You guys, I am counting down the hours until 10/9c.

 Nashville returns for Season 2 and I just cannot contain my excitement.  If you haven't seen it yet, you should catch yourself up because it is juicy, scandalous, fashion-forward, sparkly, musical and everything I could ever ask for in an hour of television drama.  

I want to be Rayna James. For obvious reasons.

I think I came pretty darn close this past weekend when I escaped to Music City without any help from cable television.  

A dangerous yet telling picture of my top-downride through Kentucky. Beautiful! 

You're the only Ten I see. 

Friday morning I lugged my make-up bag, cowgirl boots, as much bling as my Vera Bradley could tote and multiple variations of a typical country-glam outfit I imagine Rayna James might wear.  I drove the 5 hours through Kentucky and into Tennesse to Vanderbilt University where my dear friend and former roommate currently resides.

I for sure felt like Rayna pulling up to Sarah's gated community. So Vandy.

I spent two full days in Nashville - just enough time for me to fall in love.
My mom says I can't move there, but I say if someone discovers my talent and needs me to move she will have no choice.  Anyone want to provide me with some talent?

Here's a peak into my Nashfest love affair:


 We started off our first evening with a Nashville Must: "Hot Chicken."  The spicy fried chicken was hot and crunchy and made for the perfect left overs after a late night out as well :)

 

 On day two, we used CitiBikes to tour downtown. It usually costs $5 for the day to rent a bike, but because everyone is no dang nice in Nashville, the nice man gave them to us for free because we had to wait a few minutes for an additional bike. Can you imagine? Free. No credit card information or even a phone number to reach us if he never saw those bikes again. I love southern hospitality.

Our tour was amazing and no words or pictures can describe how much fun I had. Love love love.

Luke Bryan?!! Is that you?! 

Sarah girl and I overlooking the Nashville Skyline 

"Legends Corner," one of many honky tonks downtown. This picture was taken at 2pm, there was standing room only and everyone had a drink in their hand!

I will be doing this for my bachelorette party. Ladies get ready.  

At night we made reservations to have dinner at "The Listening Room." The atmostphere was phenomenal.  Four songwriters perform live on stage - some songs you know because they have been sung by popular artists - and some are unfamiliar but amazingly personal and intimate.  Oh, and the local-brewed beer on tap wasn't too bad either! 

 Downtown at "Big Bang," a totally awesome dualing piano bar.  For sure the highlight of night two.

Thanks so much for showing me your new city, Sarah! Loved every second of it. Can not wait to make my second debut in Music City.

Until next time
xoxox

Soda Pop

Someone laughed at me for saying "soda" today.  Really. 

Because 'round these parts we say "pop" ya'll.  

And here's a picture of Loverboy sippin on some pop in CHAD PENNINGTON'S personal suite. Too cool.   

xoxoxo

Recently in WV

One thing's for sure, I've been keeping busy since moving to Huntington.

Weekday mornings are spent on campus:

 a) working at the on-campus STEM preschool (more on those cute little West Virginians later) 

or b) working in an office doing graduate-assistantship-shtuff 

Weekday evenings are spent:

a) going to class

b) submitting homework assignments

or c) working at my new restaurant job

Weekends are spent:

a) going to football games ... Go Herd!

b) having some fun with my awesome coworkers

c)more fun

More on life in good 'ol Herd Country when I'm not doing one of the above :) 

xoxoxo

Is that Italian?

There are a few things I have come to expect when I am introduced to someone in West Virginia:

"Where are you from?"

New Jersey.

"Oh New Joisey!   

(I just want to know who in New Jersey ever, ever pronounces "Joisey.")  

"Have you ever seen 'The Jersey Shore?'"

Yes, I have seen it.  No, it's not really like that. 

"What's your last name?"

Yelencsics

"Is that Italian?"

No, actually it's not even close to Italian. 

I can tell you what else isn't Italian ... the fast food restaurant down the street advertising half price "spaghetti" and fresh "Italian donuts."  

Gotta love Huntington.  

True Southern Hospitality

Last week I had what felt like my first true southern exposure.

I had just finished paying for my fountain diet soda in the Marshall Student Union, when the cashier slowly offered me my receipt, a less-than-toothy grin, and a sweet southern pleasantry:

"Ya'll come back real soon now, ya hear?"  

I probably stood there for a good five seconds trying to register what was said.  And then I giggled.  And then I said "I sure will!" Because I will. Girlfriend needs her fountain soda.  

Something to Ponder

I have yet to see anyone enter or leave the apartment that neighbors mine.  I'm beginning to wonder what kind of hillbilly hermits occupy this place... 

It has also come to my attention that approximately 85% of my trash is comprised of Band-Aids and their wrappers.  So maybe the neighbors are just trying to stay clear of danger. Can't say I blame them. 

Not So Easy

Allow me to begin this rant with the night before I left New Jersey for West Virginia:

The last of the items that needed to be packed all pertained to the kitchen.  Thus, I was neatly packing my beloved Ninja Blender so that it would efficiently fit between my protein powder and wine glasses when my right hand became enveloped in bright red blood. (Apparently the Ninja is more stealthy than I anticipated.) I naturally walked myself to the bathroom to drown my blood in the cool water of the running faucet.  (I cut myself way too often to be too severely alarmed by gushing blood. Here's a fun fact: I wasn't allowed near the scissor wall in 5th grade because I stapled my shirt to my arm.  So that's that.)

Our travel day was interrupted by frequent re-bandaging and thunderstorms so severe that I probably would have had blisters on my hands if my wounded thumb hadn't prevented me from gripping the steering wheel tight enough to cut off circulation. 13 hours later, we arrived in Huntington.  

12 hours after that, my Mother was on her way back to NJ after helping me move-in illegally (Loverboy had the keys to the apartment even though I technically did not check in for my key.) Three hours after that, the leasing office for my apartment complex asked if my mother was available because they lost her signature as my guarantor.  They wouldn't give me my keys until the next day when she was not in a moving vehicle and was able to fax her signature once again.  Off to a good start, right?

Saturday morning, I got my keys to the apartment.  Saturday afternoon, I locked my car keys inside my car.  My spare set is at my parent's house in NJ.  

After a reasonably smooth-sailing Sunday, I was pumped for an agreeable first week of classes.  I decided to make a hot dinner for Loverboy and I to enjoy when he got home from work.  I preheated the oven, and before I even got to put anything inside, the fire alarm went off.  I tried again ten minutes later, same thing.  No problem, I had chicken in the fridge I could cook on our George Foreman.  Well... as soon as the raw marinated chicken hit the pseudo-grill the fire alarm went off.  Sorry Loverboy, no hot supper for you tonight.  

I'm having trouble accepting the fact that the transition to total independence and adulthood isn't going to be easy.