A Farewell to Blogs: My Swan Song

Friday January 10th, 2014:

This has been quite the semester and quite the blogging experience and I have loved every minute of it. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to take care of my blog, nor have my recent posts (by recent, I mean posts from October) been up to the usual standards, as my wonderfully thoughtful friends have repeatedly reminded me. However, being that I ended my blogging days a tad unceremoniously, and being that I was mildly goaded into this (thanks Ray), I am here to formally end the astoundingly success that is EsteveIsHere. I have decided to do this by telling you all about the remainder of my semester and my winter break.

I would say the best story of the year has to do with a dishwasher, incompetence, and a beloved roommate. Now I won’t say who, but one of my favorite roommates (Joe) apparently doesn’t know how to use a dishwasher. Frankly I wasn’t aware people of this

status existed, but I’ve been known to be wrong before. It was a stormy Tuesday night and after listening to Joe talk himself through getting the dishwasher started, I was immensely proud of his accomplishment. That is, until half an hour later when the following conversation with my roommate, Jourdan, took place:

Jourdan: “Did you start the dishwasher?”

Me: “Nope, Joe did!”

Jourdan: “Oh….”

Me: “Why? What’s wrong?”

Jourdan: “…”

When I walked into the kitchen to see what Jourdan was upset about, I found what used to be my kitchen floor covered up by a sea of suds. Instead of using the prepackaged dishwasher packets like any other human being might have used, our dishwasher was fed some of the dish soap next to the faucet. Naturally this was the one day Joe had left to get a haircut so it was just me and Jourdan left to clean up, or so I thought. Jourdan ditched me to go get his Zumba moves on, which meant that I had to hike up my jeans and mop up this mess solo-style. As soon as Joe got home, I not-so-gingerly gave him the broom I was using to clean and scuttled off to Dubois rehearsal (anyone who knows me also knows that I am NEVER in a rush to get to Dubois rehearsal. That quintet may actually be the death of me, but luckily I have my beautiful friend Ray who has so generously stepped up and will take that quintet off my hands. Thanks buddy!) The best part of the entire dishwasher debacle was when the girls living below us came up to inform us that their ceiling was leaking, no doubt due to our bubbles issue. I carefully explained to them that one of my roommates had never used a dishwasher before. When this same girl came up about an hour later to let Joe know that water was still leaking into their suite, her exact words were: “Are you the idiot who can’t use a dishwasher?”. So beautiful. So sassy. On another note, I told my papa this story at Thanksgiving and he has not stopped repeating it since. In fact when he met Joe at the Orchestra/Chorale Christmas Concert he asked if he had learned how to use a dishwasher. Oh papa….

My chamber ensembles both performed at the last of the chamber ensemble concerts this year. Marissa and I, both in the Dubois and Schubert, were praying to be programmed on the same concert so that we wouldn’t have to stick around too long (there were two concerts; one at 6 and one at 7:30). As the fates would have it, the Dubois was listed as the first piece on the 6:00 concert and the Schubert was the final piece of the 7:30 concert. Technically, you are “not supposed to a concert leave after you play”. It’s like etiquette or something ridiculous. That didn’t quite work out for the two of us, who needed to eat dinner, not hear botched chamber performances, and get homework done at some point that night. Both of our performances were just fantastic, regardless of what anyone might say on Facebook. Check out the Schubert by following the link below! (I don’t have a recording of the Dubois) Some might call it the “greatest string quintet of all time”, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.

Schubert String Quintet

Finals week was a breeze. It started off pretty poorly however, because being as last-minute as I am, I didn’t by my train ticket home until just about a week before I was leaving school. By waiting so long to purchase said ticket, the rates were incredibly steep, a fact I bemoaned even though it was entirely my fault. I found out only about three days later that I had bought a ticket for the Friday before I had to come home (the 13^th instead of the 20^th), but I didn’t find out until I had “missed my train” at which point Amtrak would not refund my ticket. There was nothing to do but buy yet another expensive ticket and keep studying for finals. Before studying began in earnest there was some fun to be had when the orchestra E-Board made a trip to the BC Campus School to play some Christmas Carols. The Campus School is a day school for severely handicapped children, and to be completely honest seeing these kids can be pretty tough. But playing these ridiculously easy carols brightened their day I’m sure, and absolutely got me into the holiday spirit. We had been given a bunch of music from our orchestra director but only picked about five carols from the pile. I spearheaded this selection and centered the process on fitting music onto a stand so that there were zero page turns. In doing this I inadvertently made our program last for only about 15 minutes. Because not even all of the children had been wheeled into the room when we finished playing, we repeated the whole program. This time, John led the group demanding that we repeat carols three, even four, times. I am convinced that this was mostly due to his wanting to have more chances to improvise on the carols, which he deftly did.

Nearly all of my time during studying for my exams was spent in the dining hall, pretty much at the same table day-to-day. Luckily I had some great people there to distract me from bebop, integrated pest management, and subjunctive conjugations. A common theme during this year’s finals, aside from “I’m so freaking done with all of this”, was finishing exams quickly. The longest I took on any given test was an hour and ten minutes, and that was pushing it. I came to the conclusion during my exams that if I didn’t know the answer right away, I wasn’t going to magically come up with it by sitting around. When I handed in my Spanish final, the proctor looked at me and questioned whether or not I was actually done. Are you kidding me?! Take my damn test and let me go in peace, woman! During my Jazz final, I finished wickedly early (look at my Boston-speak) and sat around “re-reading” my exam for another ten minutes until my intense apathy caused me to get the heck out of there. I have never been more convinced of a higher power, one that has an especially twisted sense of humor, than when I came home for winter break. For the first time in years, my dad began playing jazz CD’s when he would get home from work. If you talked to me at all this year, you may have gleaned from our conversations that I do NOT find jazz aesthetically appealing. When my dad asked me who my favorite jazz musicians were at dinner one night, I pretty much summed up my feelings as succinctly as possible: “I don’t like jazz.”

Being home has been the most wonderful thing to happen to me all year. Christmas and Christmas Ever were phenomenal chances to spend quality time with my family. Both sides of the family have Secret Santa exchanges between all of the grandchildren. It’s pretty typical on my dad’s side of the family, but my mom’s side was inclined spice things up from the get-go by requiring the gifts be homemade. Every year the gifts are really impressive, but this year has to take the cake. My cousin, John, had me and made me a mouse pad with images juxtaposing me and appropriate memes. It is uncanny just how perfectly my life fits into the Internet.

After Christmas, Ellen made a trek down to the motherland for a weekend full of shenanigans. On Saturday we raced into the city (New York, that is) and saw the sights of a Christmas-a-fied NYC. Rockefeller Center, Bryant Park, etc. When we returned to good old Centereach, she got the opportunity to meet all of my maternal family members. We’re all good and fun people, but I’m not quite sure that Ellen was ready to be a part of the Hayes family game night. We’re intense, loud, and uber competitive. A rousing game of Win, Lose, or Draw began. (Basically Pictionary, but you have to draw phrases not just words) My team was comprised of my mother, Auntie Diane, and cousin Sam dominated. It was rather pathetic watching Olivia, Ellen, Auntie Marie, and Brian attempt to catch up to us. The only better part of the night was getting to read a poster made by my cousin, Sam, about water scarcity (OoO environmental problems).

The following weekend, Marissa flew up to New York (I’m soo popular) to help me ring in my 21^st birthday properly. We too experienced the Big Apple, but this time we had the perpetually pleasant Ray there to accompany us. Again sights were seen, lunch was had, even though our intended café was closed due to “inclement weather”. Fools. In between lunch and dinner we had a few hours to kill. Our final stop before dinner was a Barnes and Noble where we ended up spending a solid hour and a half. Ray, being the gem that he his, set out immediately for the test section. It was here that the three of us decided our futures based off of graduate school exam prep books: Marissa-doctor, Me-lawyer, Ray-??. Ray was displeased with my suggestions (firefighter, truck driver, patrol officer…). I believe Ray is taking opinions so I would contact him with any further recommendations. Dinner was delicioso! And before you start getting on my case for using my Spanish skills, know that we went to a Mexican restaurant. This place had the best guac this side of the Mississippi, which was perfect because I had quite a hankering for some. With full stomachs, Ray left us so that Marissa and I could head up to my sister, Lauren’s apartment. Here we awaited the arrival of Olivia and her boyfriend Colin who would be joining us on our evening of birthday drinking.

Around 11:30 we left for our destination: Turtle Bay. Birthday celebrations are great. 21^st birthday celebrations are truly exquisite. There was lots of dancing and plenty of drinks. Obviously, my birthday would not have been complete without a tequila shot. Our group did in fact take one and it was beautiful. The other shots of the evening were contained in test tubes and carried around by a waitress who most likely had failed any math class she ever took because he attempts to make change were absolutely pitiful. After a rousing night of perfectly legal drinking, we left the club (because it had closed) and splurged on a cab back to the apartment for the night. Late night drunk Steve conversations may be slightly strange to anyone who is not me or is not completely drunk. Suffice it to say it involved detailed discussion of underwear, both that night’s and the next day’s. I believe my descriptions were something along the lines of: “they coddle my Steve parts nicely”. Anyway…..the following day Marissa, Lauren, and I headed home for my family party. Again, I’m not sure Marissa was ready to meet the family, but it happened.

Cousin Selfie! 

So that’s what you missed in my life. It’s been real, my lovely readers, but unfortunately all good things have to come to an end. I will leave you with a few remarks:

1.     If you haven’t read The Book Thief, do it right now. That also goes for Looking for Alaska. LFA is the only book in the history of ever to make me cry, and I’m not too manly to admit it. Actually, I’m not too manly.

2.     Don’t ever put dish soap into a dishwasher. That junk is for the sink ONLY.

3.     Grow vegetables, grow flowers, grow weeds. GROW ANYTHING.

4.     Blog about your life, if only a little while! Even when my blog was private, I took great satisfaction in writing down my utterly useless thoughts.

5. Stay golden.

Keep your eyes peeled for any future posts that might magically appear before you, but if I were you I wouldn’t wait with bated breath. Go out and make 2014 your best year yet!

Peace, love, and plants

Stephen/Steve/Pancho

I am Les Miserable

Wednesday October 9th, 2013:

I sit here, writing this by the light of a single candle...HAH! nope.

I know that you are probably flabbergasted that a blog entry is coming to you on a Wednesday night when it has become the norm to encounter my posts on Sundays, however I'm sure you'll manage this anomaly. My life has been incredibly crazy recently, and I'm just now finding some down time to get back to blogging (mostly because I have a presentation tomorrow and I lack the will and determination to prepare for it).

I'll start with this weekend, or rather last week. Miserable. That's pretty much the best word I can think of to describe it. I had the privilege of getting to be in the pit for a community theatre's production of Les Miserables, which took place over this past weekend (hence the lack of time). What a pit it was. Marvelous, stupendous, a wee bit pathetic. All valid adjectives for our group. Because a certain violist from Tejas wimped out on me last minute, I was stuck with only a single high-school violinist as my sole friend and partner in the string section. And given the volume at which he played, I was pretty much on my own (see what I did there?). Don't worry, I played plenty loud for the both of us, even if I most likely shouldn't have (#cantplaycello...). However, I won't say another bad word about the pit, because in actuality we were quite incredible for having rehearsed a whopping two times before the show opened. [Funny sidebar: the first time we ran through the show completely was opening night; our last dress rehearsal was a bit rocky because we spent two out of the three hours watching the less than competent lighting workers struggle to understand the lighting cues for the second act. Amateurs.] The shows were smashingly successful! Travel to and from the shows, on the other hand, was another matter....Massachusetts roads are really unmatched in their complete lack of forethought. If you've ever driven in Bean Town you know what I mean. Aside from getting valuable pit experience, improving on my already existing cello calluses (yes, that's a thing), and playing my favorite musical I also wound up making more money playing the show than I spent in putting gas into the car to go to rehearsals! #winning

Although I did spend most of my weekend playing some musical theatre classics, the real highlight of my weekend was without a doubt my farming field trip! Apparently, it is still acceptable to have field trips in college (I think I briefly discussed that in an earlier post) and it's also acceptable to have said field trips begin at 8:30. -_- I just can't even. But, while the trip started off really early and was rather long, it was a real treat! I got to pet some cows, go on a hay ride, and watch a cow get milked (which is rather scary). So in essence, I'm basically a kindergartener and I'm relatively okay with that. While everyone at BC was all riled up to watch a football game that almost didn't happen because apparently football requires a functioning government (don't even get me started), I was walking through the open fields of Concord and Carlisle, fresh cow manure and fermenting grasses overwhelming my olfactory receptors and delicious homemade ice cream overwhelming my tastebuds. The field trip also served the purpose of getting me excused from the Saturday matinee of Les Mis, which is incredibly fortuitous because I'm not sure that my poor fingers could have taken it.

Being that most of my weekend was full of farms and prostitutes (I'm referring to Les Mis), I didn't have much time to get ahead on my work. It may seem like my environmental classes are major jokes (ie Rocks), but they are still science-y classes and therefore are inherently work oriented. The large workload that built up over this past weekend forced me to go to the one place on campus I vowed never to return to: the Library. The thought of being stuck in a quiet space with tons of other people working just as hard as you is horrifying and gives me chills. Nonetheless, duty called and I found myself in the library on both Monday and Tuesday nights. Today was the real kicker. Somehow I was goaded into entering the scariest of all libraries: Bapst. For anyone who doesn't go to BC, Bapst is the library in which you are not allowed to make any noise whatsoever. Don't play your music too loudly, don't be getting no texts from no one (how many negatives can I have in one sentence?), don't type too aggressively. Don't even breathe too loudly. I found myself turning into one of the Bapst-ites who focuses intently on his work and glares accusingly at anyone who makes the slightest bit of noise. This transformation was most noticeable when the sound of dishes clanging together (I swear that's what it was) filled the great hall area. My looks were biting, my huffing poignant, my grabbing for my headphones to block out the excessive noise, deliberate. There is no going back. I am one of them. I am 2-4-6-0-1 (I am actually on a roll).

I'll wrap up things by talking about a conversation I had with my mother last night. While summarizing my weekend, I remembered my very own garden and my beautiful plants that I spent my summer cultivating. Due to the prolonged warm weather we've been having, my plants have yet to senesce (that's right, using my farming vocabulary) and she informed me that they are still producing lovely veggies! Here's a screenshot of a continuation of said conversation with my mother featuring my LAST PEPPER OF THE SEASON! I'm actually brimming with excitement.

Hopefully this post has been all that you hoped for and more! Until next time, here's a pic of a cow. 

Marissa in a lab coat

Sunday September 29th, 2013

I guess it's Sunday again, which means it's time for yet another blog post. I've just been informed that the quality of my recent posts has been lacking (thanks to two friends who from here on out will be referred to as Rye Bread and Dr. Riss) so I will try my hardest to improve that. Unfortunately, this revelation could not have come at a more inopportune time because I have had the most boring week of the school year thus far, but we'll see what happens.

Probably the most exciting event this week happened at none other than the Rat. After an excruciatingly terrible Thursday when I had to make about five million packaged meals for the annual Pops on the Heights dinner/concert thing (if Facebook and Instagram are right, the Chorale may have sung with Katharine McPhee), I thought going back to the Rat on Friday would be torture, but I could not have been more wrong. Finally, after an entire year of working there, I was trained to use the cash register! I've probably had this dream for years and finally it has come to fruition. I don't know what changed, but Reyna (the front manager) took it upon herself to train me on Friday afternoon. Though I may have only gotten to play cashier for about ten minutes, I can most assuredly say that dreams really do come true.

Friday was only made better because I pit rehearsal for Les Mis later that night. For any people who somehow are unaware of this fact, Les Mis is my absolute favorite musical. If believe there is a better one out there, you are wrong. Dead wrong. After a rehearsal that went far better than I expected, and a superb car ride home (didn't get lost #winning), I made my way to the Newton campus to drop off my roommate Joe's car (he was sooo nice to let me borrow it for rehearsal). The only downside to the night was having to take the Newton bus back. Freshman on a Friday night are a mix of adorable and repulsive. Here is one of the many fantastic conversations that I overheard while on the bus:
               
                  Girl 1: Is this Ignacio Hall?
                  Girl 2: Yeah it is, I've totally been there before.

Freshmen.


Following my excursion with the newbies of BC, I had the pleasure of spending the night in the lovely Mod of Dr. Riss. Because of the game on Saturday, her mod had a spectacular and exquisite BBQ Saturday prior to a less than spectacular and exquisite football game (go BC...). Although the morning was a bit rough thanks to someone setting the fire alarm off, everything was delicious (even if the meat took a bit long to cook)!

And today. I had the privilege of spending five and half hours at the Mary House, at my very serious job, with none other than the infamous Rye Bread and Dr. Riss. Listening to some very strange noises coming from musicians in a practice room, deciding that Marissa is either going to be a chemist or lungal surgeon (a lungs doctor...), discussing Senior fives, playing some Les Mis on a viola. Nothing could be better. [Well, I'm sure winter break will be a bit better ;) ].

That's all folks. We'll see what happens next week.

The Reprise: Steve's Blog 2.0

Sunday September 22, 2013

8:00 am. In high school, I was already in second period. In high school I woke up at 6:00 am, brushed the sleep out of my eyes and headed out for what was sure to be an excellent day. High school. High. School. I don't know why but as soon as you enter the college years, anything before noon constitutes as early rising. Getting up knowing that the time is still in single digits feels almost impossible. Today, 8:00 am hit me like a brick wall.

"But Stephen, why were you up at such an ungodly hour?"

Great question, mythical blog reader! The answer to that is actually quite simple. I am an environmental geoscience major and I'm planning on saving the world! And since the world does not wait for anybody to wake up when their body wills it, sometimes you have to force yourself up, get out of bed, and trudge through a park in the rain in order to collect data on a stream.

As much as I may have complained about the prospects of waking up with the roosters (anyone who knows me knows that I do NOT do well with mornings, especially the early ones, see: Lucky Charms Incident of 2011), my field trip was seriously enjoyable. Traipsing around a park, playing with mud, surveying a wetland, getting Dunkin from your professor....the list goes on and on. For some reason, I spent the entire four hours on my field trip with this song stuck in my head hahaha

Turning to a more serious matter, I must acknowledge the fact that I have not blogged anything in the past few weeks (I'm pretty sure I stopped as soon as school began). However, seeing how the lack of Steve's blog didn't work for some people (a certain Ray of Sunshine and pretty little Riss), I finally caved into their constant nagging and am writing this post. Because I am currently working Sunday nights in a job that is in all honesty a six hour block for homework time, and because I have a paper due that I am incredibly reluctant to begin I have decided to keep with the tradition of Sunday night blogging! There will be one change, and I hope it doesn't deter you (my millions of readers) from continuing to read my blog. Obviously I am at school for the rest of the year (or so I hope), which means that I am technically not gardening regularly, or at all for that matter. With that in mind, it seems as if I am lying to you if I do not change the name of my blog. No decisions have been made as of yet, but here are some titles I'm working on:

• Well, the kids can't check themselves into Mary House: The Justification of Steve's work-study

• Trials and Tribulations of a Rat Worker

• Rocks on Rocks on Rocks with Steve 

• Danger! Danger! Danger!

It think it's pretty clear that I am still working on an actual title...

Lessons Learned

Monday September 2nd, 2013

Well here we go again. Sorry that I have been so unfaithful to the maintenance of this blog, but my life has been relatively crazy over the past few weeks. Since returning from Texas, I have finished working at my dental office (sad news) and moved back to school (good news). I even start classes tomorrow (why God, why?).

Work. So my time in the sun has come to a peaceful, albeit bittersweet end. The dental office has replaced me with a new worker who seems to be a great fit and a hard worker. I spent the last of my days at work training said employee in order to ensure that the transition from me to her would be as smooth as possible. While I was absolutely ready for my full time job to stop so that I could return to my other full time job (school), when it came time to say my goodbyes, I actually was sad to leave. I had spent the better part of three months working in this office, getting to know these people, and having a ton of laughs with each of them. I'll miss their personal quirks, their snarky remarks, and their fun stories. They really are an incredible bunch of folks. The office staff collectively went in on a going away present for me, which was totally unnecessary. Better even than their generous gift was the card that accompanied it. Everyone had something nice and personal to say to me; it was truly wonderful. Aside from this main present, one coworker (Ronnie) gave me a really special gift: a monstrous bin full of delicious goodies. She wants me to use the snacks in her present to fortify my emergency drawer [in times of severe crisis the candy and chocolate would serve as a much needed endorphin booster]. She included snacks that we had shared over the course of the summer (mainly pumpernickel pretzels), which made the gift especially thoughtful.

Since I have allegedly spent the entire summer in the real, working world, I think it appropriate to discuss some of the important life lessons that I've learned while working with these people. Here's what I've come up with:

• When you work next to an emergency animal hospital, you will undoubtably encounter terribly stressed persons who are concerned about their pets. Alternatively, you might talk to a girl whose boyfriend supposedly called earlier about a goose who couldn't walk....

• People are fantastically stupid. Sometimes they will call you and ask to set up an appointment with that doctor who specializes in teeth. Sorry ma'am, but you're going to have to be a bit more specific with us. 

• Old people are the best to talk to. 'Nuff said. 

• Outgoing messages are quite strange. Occasionally a homeowner will try to sell you insurance to get into heaven via answering machine. Those messages will go on for almost two minutes and will be completely unreal. 

• Life, like the charts that I spent my days pulling and filing, is going to be difficult. Sometimes a chart isn't where you expect it to be, or sometimes you don't understand the writing on it. But with a little elbow grease, you can conquer the unconquerable and find everything that you need.

That just about sums up my working experience, and it has most definitely been an experience. I am anxiously awaiting the rest of my life when I can work in an office everyday, all day, always. 

Since finishing up at work, I have moved back into BC and it is wonderful! Although I am living in the exact same building as last year, I swear my room is bigger (no complaints from me!). Seeing friends is always wonderful, however junior year is weird because you don't really know where anyone is. Half the class is living off campus, some people are abroad while others are not. It's just some weird s*** man. The current predicament my roommates and I are facing regards room decor. The Edmonds suites are super barren when you first move in. The dorm was built in the '70s or something and it certainly looks the part. Thankfully, a recent construction project has forced the music department to do some spring cleaning and hundreds of art posters were up for grabs this weekend. Two trips to the music department later, my room was finally looking homey (homie?). 

This is about all I can muster at the moment, so I hope that you are all satisfied. Being that I am not at home anymore, I have no pictures of my plants to show you. Instead, I'll give you one picture from work and one from school! TTYL. <3 Stephen. 

Where are the armadillos?

Steve's Texas Adventure, With A Few Other Fools 

Part 2: Comprised of F'real Friday, Fatterday, and Farewell Breakfast

As promised, herein you will find the conclusion of my Texas travels told in the style of a hero's journey (me being the hero obviously). 

As Friday morning came around in good old Arlington, Texas us northerners were reluctant to get up. Marissa's bed is just so cozy. Eventually, we just had to leave the comfort of a warm bed because our stomachs demanded it (just because this entry's title isn't #fat it doesn't mean we didn't want tremendous amounts of food). Because it was already late in the morning we settled on having a nice brunch, consisting mainly of the smoked brisket which had finally finished cooking only 10-15 minutes after we fell asleep the night before. As I have said before, everything is bigger in Texas and brunch is no exception. We had: smoked brisket with special BBQ sauce all the way from Tennessee, corn on the cob, cole slaw, jello salad, corn bread, smoked sausage, fried okra, and baked beans. I made the mistake of saying that I don't like butter on my corn on the cob. Scorned as a heretic by everyone except Shayna (solidarity!) I ate the rest of my brunch in a quiet fear of an attack from those against whom I had sinned. 

Promptly after brunch (well, not quite "prompt") we headed out for a day of shopping before the greatness that was to come that night. Before our spree could begin we headed over to Geema's house for a meet and greet. What an adorable, little old lady! She so nicely took us into her house and chatted with us for about 20 minutes. Once we finished talking with Geema, we were off to immerse ourselves in Texas culture. The first stop: Michael's. It was here that we learned about the infamous mums. In Texas when a guy asks a girl to go to homecoming (a pretty big deal in Tejas) he gives her a mum and she reciprocates. Mums are almost indescribable. The bigger they are, the more popular and liked you are (you're also more likely to wind up with back troubles) and everybody wants big because this is Texas. Take a gander at these photos and try to wrap you head around this completely foreign concept. 

Sometimes Marissa and I are absolutely the cutest. 

To get a better understanding of mums and to continue searching for classic souvenirs, we headed off to Hobby Lobby, land of the crafts. The best find by far was a life sized nativity set (you heard me correctly) that was a mere $6,000 and could only be used indoors. I genuinely cannot think of a more practical purchase. Aside from being all around bigger, Texas is also much more religious. All I know is that a life sized nativity set might clutter a house up. 

On the subject of religion, we made another great find Friday afternoon. Mormons! These two guys were just casually riding their bikes, all set to spread the word of God. They were also all set to have their picture taken by yours truly. 

After a long day of shopping and generally doing nothing, we headed over to the Flying Fish and tried some fried catfish (why not?) and some hush puppies, which surprisingly are not a fish. By this point in time, the maximum capacity of my stomach had been reached so I could only take in about one catfish filet, a hush puppy or two, and a handful of delicious fries. I liked the Flying Fish mainly because it helped me to embrace my inner child by giving out the necessary supplies to color. Ironically enough the animals that we got to color in were of the jungle variety (where were the armadillos?) and included a gorilla and an okapi. 

The Flying Fish is big on the details. 

Now for the good stuff. It's rodeo time. We headed off to Mesquite, Texas for our first rodeo. Honestly, I'm having a hard time putting the experience into words because it was quite the culture shock. Naturally, a plethora of American songs started the evening off, complete with an inspirational video of "American" things that was comprised mainly of military combat shots. Then the show began. Bucking horses, roping cattle, barrel racing, and bull riding were all featured events and all held everyone's attention. Probably the most scarring moment of the night (at least for me) was the child portion of the show. For the entire first half of the rodeo the announcer kept referring to this "Child Dash", which Marissa led us to believe was a race from one side of the arena to the other. Nope. Bunches of kids, no older than 12, lined up and then chased after a couple of calves with a ribbon on their tail. The first to grab a ribbon was a winner. I still shudder thinking back to that moment. The only thing worse than the child endangerment was the complete nonchalance from the other spectators, notably Marissa. She actually couldn't breathe because she was laughing so hard at us (the northerners).

My favorite part of the evening was listening to the announcer and his politically incorrect quotes. Here's a small sampling of his gems: 

• "If you came it with a bad attitude, then build a bridge and get over it."
• "If you ride with two hands, you're a girl and you're disqualified."
• "His daddy was a real bucking horse."
• "I'll tell ya, it's a lot more fun going to a dance with a girl than with a boy."
• "[In reference to the Oklahoma citizens present] Welcome to Texas. God bless you for finally getting to America."
• "The only ugly girl in Texas is a tourist."

Here's the T-shirt than Mama B wanted me to get. I think it really would have matched my eyes, but I unfortunately never got it. 

The only thing I wanted to do after the rodeo was see an armadillo. This is Texas, they should be in abundance. Well, those sneaky little bastards evaded my eyes for the entirety of the trip. We even went down to a park to see if we could catch them doing little armadillo things. All we got were two kids sucking face. That is not what I wanted to see, especially after the horrors I had seen at the rodeo just before. Since the park was a total bust, we decided to sit outside at Marissa's house for a while to observe. Out of nowhere the alarm-adillo went off signaling an approaching armadillo. Actually, it was the just the garage beeping because the door was going to close. #disappointed. Once we were satisfactorily unsatisfied on the armadillo front, we headed into bed. This time there was no horsing around. Enter cuddle party #2.

Saturday morning, after some delicious breakfast pastries native to Eastern Europe (what is culture doing in Texas?) we decided to go to Dallas to take a tour of the JFK museum. Before leaving we got to chatting with Mrs. B about any and everything during which time she informed me that it was a shame that I didn't like girls because Marissa and I are perfect for each other. God, don't I already know it. Marissa may very well be my other half, my soul mate, my beard...but unfortunately for me it isn't enough. (Even if gay men are Marissa's ideal type.)

Somehow we made it to Dallas in one piece, even though Marissa seemed less than sure of how to go. Mrs. B actually spent at least 10 minutes trying to explain to Marissa where one highway was. It was borderline pathetic. Anyway, the Sixth Floor museum is really educational and enjoyable and totally worth the entrance fee. Plus, you can get the touristy photos near the famed Grassy Knoll after you leave the museum. The only thing to do after the museum was make a stop at Sonic and try some tater tots. Woah man they were good.

After some JFK and tots we went to Fort Worth for some Tex Mex food and a night at the world's largest honky tonk (these are not the same place). Dinner, like every meal in Texas, was amazing. We barely made a dent in the dishes with our seven people, but we found out that a 'normal' Texan family could easily wolf down what we had eaten and then some (#fat). It was at dinner that Marissa explained the wonder that is Fatterday. On some Saturdays, you just don't move and eat everything. Though it sounds like quite the lazy day, there is a good deal of planning that goes into it. All movements must be minimized on Fatterday so you must ensure that all the food you could possibly want is purchased/made and within arm's reach. I look forward to embracing this tradition with Marissa frequently next year.

Billy Bob's, the honky tonk. I'm still not sure what exactly a honky tonk is. All I know is that there was smoking, alcohol, a country concert, bull riding, and ladies who enjoyed yelling "Yeehaww". If I thought the rodeo was hard to describe, the honky tonk is impossible. I did find the "Red Neck Margarita Glass" which consists of a mason jar on a stem. I am unable to even. 

On the way home from our night at Billy Bob's, we ran into a hilarious situation. Due to the amount of people in our group, we were broken up into two cars (the BC gang in one, and Mama B and Maya in the other ). We got separated leaving Billy Bob's because is too nice a driver, so I looked up directions on my own. Remember, Marissa is directionally challenged. Suddenly, there was a car behind us beeping like crazy. Being in unknown terrain I told Marissa not to pull over. Who knows what crazy people lurk in Texas? We ended up pulling into the parking lot of a "ood Lot" (the "F" was missing) only to find out that it was our other car behind us. Mrs. B could barely stand, she was laughing so hard because we wouldn't pull over. Maya wins for best quote of the night with "was she [Marissa] dropped on her head as a baby?". Nothing could ever top that beauty. 

We found no armadillos Saturday night either, but we did get to spend even more quality time with Mama B. I'm only going to say don't mess with Texas women. Nothing else. Bedtime, cuddle party #3. Pretty standard.

Sunday morning was bittersweet. We had an amazing homemade breakfast that was beyond unnecessary and then set off to print our tickets and pack up. Goodbyes were awfully hard, at least for me, but I prevailed. Mainly because I intend to visit the B's and Texas again. Our travels home were just fine. After the plane, Michael, Shayna, and I parted ways and I set off for NewYork. This was by far the best part of my summer vacation, and Marissa's family is definitely my favorite bunch of people! I was so moved by their unending hospitality and generosity; I don't think that I can thank them enough. 

There's much more to say, but I'm done writing for a while. Here are some classic pics from the trip. 

 Don't fall asleep next to me on a plane. You will regret it. 

 Boots, on boots, on boots.

 I want this for my house. 

 Chocolates on our pillows! Love Mama B!!

 Only in Texas would he get a road named after him. 

 Hello Dollies! Yum!

 Boot shot glass

 This is actually the name of a town. 

 Texas roads are creatively named. 

Honky tonk time!

To end things off, here are the rest of the pics from my drying process. Come back soon, y'all!

#FAT

Steve's Texas Adventure, with a few other fools 

Part 1: Comprised of Travel Tuesday, Where Are We Wednesday, and Tequila Thursday

After five days in the Lone Star State, I am finally back on New York soil where I belong. Don't misunderstand me, though: I. LOVE. TEXAS. My next few blog posts will go into great detail about my unbelievable travels, and I'm sure that by the end of it you'll love Texas too.


Our saga begins on a stormy Tuesday morning, rain falling in sheets all over Long Island. Normally, a dark and dreary Tuesday would suck the life right out of me (especially since I was up early to head to work), but I couldn't have been any happier. Today was the start of something beautiful. I sauntered into work and utter chaos. My manager was still reeling from the day before when my replacement left for lunch and never came back. To make matters worse, one of the assistants got a wee bit confused and mistook herself for one of the dentists of the practice. Because I was leaving work at noon none of that really mattered to me. Three hours of hard work later (I'm not joking-I worked hard) and I had freedom by the reigns. There is not much to say about my travels. Cab to train station. Train to NYC. Bus to Boston. T to Shayna's stop. Shayna's car to Shayna's house. Simple enough.

Shayna is a lovely individual. She so kindly welcomed me into her house for the night so that I could fly out of Logan with her and Michael the next morning (they were my Texas companions, you may know them as fools). Although Shayna and I agreed on getting to bed early in preparation for our next day of travels, the fates had something else in mind. Distracted by a British comedy (Hot Fuzz), we weren't in bed much before 1:00. When you go to bed at 1:00 a.m., 5:00 a.m. comes really early. Actually, regardless of when you go to bed, 5:00 a.m. comes really early.

Our travels on Wednesday were relatively bland. Other than having our flight delayed roughly thirty minutes due to an "armrest malfunction" (aka "can't watch TV syndrome") everything seemed to go well. Michael even made it to the airport in time (there was some serious doubt in our hearts whether he would remember to set an alarm). A mere four hours later, Texas was upon us.

In Texas, no place is safe from tornadoes. 

We found Marissa waiting for us at baggage claim, looking stunning as always. It is here that our story begins in earnest. I snatched up co-pilot position so I could most effectively control the Texas playlist I had made (without the help of the fools. It's okay, I'm not bitter). Marissa handed me her phone and said I needed to give her directions to get home. This was the start of what could be called "Marissa and the Struggle to Go Anywhere". She's stellar, just not savvy when it comes to navigating.

Waiting our arrival at La Casa Marissa were Mama B (words can't begin to describe how wonderful she is), Maya (Marissa's exceptional younger sister), Sirus (the cutest dog you'll ever meet), Bella (the scariest dog you'll ever meet), and of course sweet tea. [Marissa's dad met us later on for dinner.] Naturally we had to get settled before our touring could truly begin. Part of settling included leafing through Marissa's surplus stock of scrapbooks. I love these books for two main reasons: 1. Marissa writes just like I do, so I feel like I'm just reading a blog post, and 2. her scrapbooks make me feel better about my life.

Well rested and with a buzz from the sweet tea, we scuttled off to Chapps, a burger joint that brings a smile to my face. From this point on the food came on in droves, hence the title of this post. The most notable part of the afternoon was our first trip to Sonic. On Long Island there is one Sonic and it isn't even close to me. After suffering through millions of their commercials for the past twenty yeas and being unable to get some of the good stuff for myself, I was ready to try the real thing. Wow is about all I can muster at the moment.

In keeping with the nature of our Texas adventure and the title of post, I bring you our drinks. When you have a coupon, the largest size is significantly cheaper than the smallest. Enter Texas, where everything (and everyone) is bigger. Sonic forces you to get the largest size not because you are thirsty, but because it was more fiscally sound to super size.

The rest of the day included shopping in various Texas stores and, namely, trying on real boots. Though beyond comfortable, they were a bit out my price range (and would have been absolutely useless up north). We struck pure gold in the LifeWay Christian Goods store. I'm not sure words can adequately paint the picture for you, so I'm just going to give you these snaps. 

 Note the accompanying biblical verse.

Dinner that night was a traditional Texas feast, which essentially is summed up in one word: friedgoodness. Babe's (also known as "That Chicken Shack" by Mrs. B) was eye opening. Things started off with a salad. Being the ignorant, blithering idiot that I am, I assumed that we would be eating a nice and healthy salad before our artery clogging meal. That is almost the case. Almost. A salad it was, however the dressing was a delectable sugar vinaigrette. Almost immediately the food just appeared and kept reappearing until my stomach threatening to explode from a surfeit of Texas meats. Fried chicken, smoked chicken, biscuits, chicken fried steak (what?!), mashed potatoes, green beans cooked with bacon grease, chocolate pie. Everything was so amazingly good that you had to at least try it all. My stomach quakes in fear just remembering that night. What an introduction to the Texas lifestyle. 

That night was simple enough. Straight chillin' with Sirius until bedtime. The highlight of my evening was definitely when I walked into Marissa's room (where Shayna and I were to be sleeping) only to find a little chocolate on my pillow. I just about died right there. As you may have been able to infer from my direct statement, Shayna and I were bed buddies the first night. Marissa took up residence with Maya, and Michael drew the short straw and found himself on the other side of the house in the mother-in-law room (designed to make sure that guests didn't overstay their welcome...). Also, Marissa enlightened us to the mechanics behind  feeling it. All around, pretty educational. 

Thursday morning was fantastic. Shanya, Michael, Marissa, and I left the house earlyish to grab some breakfast tacos before starting our day. Holy Jerusalem they were phenomenal. And cheap. Sooo cheap. After breakfast we headed down to Marissa's old high school to help Maya get acquainted with it, since she is making the plunge into high school life within the next few weeks. 

After a second trip to Sonic was completed we raced down to Fort Worth to continue our day.  Our first stop was the botanical gardens, where I was like a kid in a candy shop. With spectacular specimens everywhere and camera in hand, I didn't stop until we finally left the gardens. Here are some of the beauties I got to marvel at in person. I even stumbled upon a chocolate mint that reminded me of my own little one back home. 

The Texas Boardwalk of the gardens (designed mainly to inspire youngsters to question their environment and pique their interest in nature) asked the important questions. 

Following our soiree with some magical botanical wonders, we headed down to the Fort Worth Stockyards (all the while, I'm navigating for Marisa who is blissfully clueless regarding the directions). Helloo Texas. Complete with a real life cattle drive, a mechanical bull (of which I am champion), and all the Texas shops you could imagine, Fort Worth was totally worth it (ohmygod I need to be stopped). Everything makes more sense (or less sense maybe) once you've seen the following pictures. 

 In Texas, smokers are a must have. For dinner on Thursday, smoked brisket was to be on the menu, however the brisket decided to take the smoker's mantra "low and slow" a little to seriously. The brisket, thrown into the smoker around 1:00 p.m., wasn't ready much before 2:00 a.m. Instead, we had delicious frito pie (I'm not even kidding), jello salad (still not kidding), rice, beans, and homemade peach cobbler. The food never ends in Texas, just like the waistlines. 

After dinner we had the pleasure of watching Marissa attempt to make margaritas. Complete with far too much salt and far too little tequila, Marissa's idea of a good margarita is a bit questionable. Note the excess of salt below. Everything really is bigger in Texas, including the salt rims. 

Bedtime Thursday night was quite the funny matter. We decided to all lay down on Marissa's bed for a while before going to sleep for the night. For some reason, laying down to relax turned into "Push Michael off the Bed 2K13". There were many casualties, including a little Miss Riss and I take full responsibility (even if it wasn't my fault). Ever since I failed at pulling Marissa back onto the bed, our friendship has grown even stronger (you are much better for having overcome adversity). Once we settled down for a second time, our laziness (mostly likely a result of the high levels of grease clogging our blood stream) led to the four of us sharing the bed for the night. Cuddle Party #1 had officially begun as the sun set on Day #2. 

That's all you're going to get for now, even though there are still three more days full of Texas fun to be recounted. As usual here are my garden shots of late. I've begun the process of drying my basil and parsley! If you aren't already hooked on the Texas story (which I'm sure you are because you've made it to the end of this behemoth of a post), you'll have to come back within the next few days to see the second stage of my drying process. Peace, love, plants.