I've Moved

All blogging will now happen in one of these places:

My Twitter (for short updates)

My Tumblr (for regular bloggery)

Radio Sweethearts (Public radio blog that I share with Matthew)

The Memphis Blog (my blog for work about all things Memphis)

Keep up!

Just to say

My writing has gone to crap. I need more poetry. I need more interesting life experiences. I need to come around here more often.

Hello, I got my camera fixed.

I have a fixed camera, which means more Viet Hoa Fo Sho soon.

I would totally write about the wedding planning, only I haven't done very much. The place is booked, the photographer is hired, and I have a dress. Other than that, we haven't gotten very far. Since wedding planning is all new, I've treated it just like any other fun new project and started doing loads of research and finding all kinds of fun facts. Like, did you know that the CEO of theknot.com is a dude? That kinda freaks me out. Matthew suggested going to a seminar for young engaged couples at the local megachurch, but I'm not sure if I'm up for it.

Some new friends had us over to make sushi tonight. It was awesome.

Also, I have a new plan, but it's not ready to be unveiled yet.

And I'm 24 on Monday.

Feeling Like a Tulle.

Since Matthew and I have been engaged for a whole week now, I decided that today would be a good day to start trying to figure out what to wear to our big party.

We've already chosen a location for the reception (Earnestine & Hazel's, a former brothel that's Memphis' oldest bar) and the ceremony (the cute empty lot next to said bar) and figured out a democratic way to decide what music gets played. It seems a little crazy - we have six months to get this thing nailed down - but I want to get the planning done so that I can kick back and enjoy being engaged to the most awesome guy ever.

I had started looking at some dresses online, but I didn't really know what I was looking for, so I decided to start by trying a few on. Unfortunately, it's after labor day, and most normal stores don't have a lot of white dresses in stock. Plus, sometimes it's easier to make a decision once you know what you don't like.

With that in mind, I walked into the suburban David's Bridal this morning. That's not quite true. Apparently, you can't just casually stroll into a wedding dress store and poke around a little bit. I was intercepted at the door and offered a seat at the "welcome table". They got my name and asked what my new last name would be, and I realized for the first time that for the rest of my life, I'm going to have to explain how to spell both my first and my last name.

I told the assistant the date of the wedding (March 21), and said that I was just looking, because I had plenty of time. "No, no," she corrected me. "Six months is no time at all! It takes 3 months to get a dress fitted and altered! And you want to look perfect on your special day!"

Anyway, she had me flip through a catalog and pick a few dresses to try on. I picked two - one was a cute tea-length strapless dress, and the other was a big, poofy, trained monstrosity with a sash. Go big or go home, right?

I was passed to a second assistant who found one of the most substantial bras I've ever seen (but um, damn, I looked good) and sent me to a fitting room. It was a little weird - there were no mirrors in the fitting room. I think the theory is that you walk out of the room to your waiting mom and grandma and sisters and then you stand on a platform and everyone cries.

I walked out in the shorter dress, stood on the platform, looked in the mirror and realized that I look cute in tea-length dresses. No one was with me - I didn't realize you were supposed to bring people on the first round.

The second dress was a lot harder to get on. First, the thing was huge. I unhooked it from the hanger and it stood up on its own tulle. I had to climb into the thing clumsily, and then waddle out of the dressing room, trying not to shut the train the door.

I hopped up on the platform, and yet another assistant went and grabbed some tulle that had been glued to a comb (I think it was supposed to be a veil) and stuck it to the back of my head. I looked in the mirror, and I didn't feel any different. It was me, barefoot, in a ginormous white dress, thinking of all the things I could accidentally spill on said dress over the course of an evening.

I couldn't try on any more dresses. They wanted me to, and I made up an excuse, pulled my jeans back on and made for the exit, realizing that this whole idea of what a bride should be just doesn't work with who I am.

Coming Soon....Lobster Balls.

In the last installment of "Viet Hoa Fo' Sho", I put the next food item to a vote. Would it be the doughy, frozen chicken and bamboo dumplings? Would it be the curry soup that we apparently all like? Or would it be the lobster balls?

If you said the lobster balls, you're totally right. But here's the thing - I have to work up the nerve to eat them. And when I do, you'll be the first to know.

In non-taste-test news, a lot has been happening. Matthew started working at the Apple store, which means he's not around as much. It also means he gets a sweet discount and to hang out with nerdy people of his ilk all day.

I have a banjo now, and I'm slowly learning to play it. Thus far, I can play most of one Sufjan Stevens song, Bob Dylan's "You Ain't Going No Where", and the very first song I've ever written: an informative ode to supermanning that ho.

We had a rock show in our back yard last week. I made curry for 30 people and three bands played on the porch. If you missed it, don't worry - we'll do it again sometime.

And to those of you who voted for the lobster balls, stay tuned. As soon as the pilot light on my stove gets re-lit, it's on. Aww yeah.

Viet Hoa Fo Sho: Taste Test No. 4 - Jimmy Carter Would be Proud

This week's offering was a box of popsicles with absolutely no indication of what flavor they might be, save for a picture of a handful of what looked to be peanuts.

Also this week, I decided to do the taste test as a video, so that you could see exactly how the taste test went down:




Viet Hoa Fo Sho: Taste Test No. 4: You got my peanut butter in my freezer from Radio Sweethearts on Vimeo.


I'm still trying to figure out exactly what the popsicles reminded me of. They had one of those flavors that I swear I've had before, but I couldn't put my finger on it. As a whole though, they were delicious, if a bit too rich.



Viet Hoa Fo Sho - Taste Test No. 4 part 2. from Radio Sweethearts on Vimeo.

Next up, it's audience choice!

Here are your options:

- steamed white space pods, er, dumplings, filled with chicken and bamboo shoots
- lobster balls
- Masaman Curry Soup The Taste of Curry That You All Like

Viet Hoa Fo Sho: Taste Test No. 3: Mommy Drinks Because Job Cries

On Monday, I was sent to Viet Hoa for three things and three things only: chicken breasts, catfish, and eggs. These items together should have cost no more than $15. Despite this, half an hour later, I left the market with $40 less than I had entered with and four bags of goodies.

A trip to the VH doesn't count unless some kind of surprise is brought home.






This week, that surprise was a green bag of cookies from the sweets aisle called "Chlorella Job's Tears Wafer". The only other English on the package was the information on the back (information that I actually took the time to read for once). They include: flour, cornstarch, milk powder, Chlorella powder, sugar, glucose, vegetable oil, Job's tears, leavening agent.

Everything seems normal, except the Job's Tears. I just thought that was the brand - I had no idea it was something that people used for cooking.

A quick wikipedia search reveals the following: Job's Tears is a tropical plant commonly used in Asian food. Matthew was a bit nervous that it referred to the Job of biblical fame, who likely cried because he was infested with all manner of sores, boils and plague.

Having taken a bite, I'm glad it tastes more like a plant, and less like pestilence.

The cookies came individually wrapped for easy lunchbox packing and looked like the creme-and-wafer cookies that my mom used to buy when I was a kid. To be honest, part of why I bought them was because they looked like they might taste like green tea.



I know, I've been misguided in the past when making purchases at the Viet Hoa that look like they would taste like green tea.

Texturally, they were just like those cookies. Granted, the wafter to creme ratio was skewed in favor of the wafer, which is a shame, as the creme is actually pretty tasty. When surrounded by all of that wafer, it's easy to miss out on its subtle sweet, nutty, (and dare I say) green tea flavor.

They were kind of tasty. So kind of tasty, in fact, that I ate more out of the sheer joy that they didn't taste as bad as some of the other things we've eaten.

Viet Hoa Fo Sho: Taste Test No. 2 - Do the Mantou

For this week's installment of Viet Hoa Fo Sho, we decided to stick with desserts. Granted, after last week, I'm not entirely sure why we would ever want to eat another baked good from the Viet Hoa.

This week's offering was frozen, chocolaty and emotionally conflicted. Behold the chocolate Mantou.



The packaging reminds me of a worksheet I had in my Sociology 100 class. The professor gave us pictures of faces and we had to label the emotion expressed on the face. They were all ambiguous, and I got most of them wrong. I can't tell if these little cartoon mantous are really happy to see me or maniacally angry that I'm about to eat them.

To cook the mantous, we took them out of the freezer, set them in a bowl, spritzed them with water and microwaved them on medium. Sadly, they didn't grow to twice their size or otherwise mutate.



They looked kind of delicious. And edible (which, after that last item, I was thankful that we could at least identify most of the ingredients with a cursory once over).





The good news is that they're not bad. Not as chocolaty as I had hoped for, but not bad. The bad news is that they seem to be mostly texture and no flavor. I'm not sure what it is about these desserts. Is all the spiciness and flavor wasted on curries and ramen noodle seasoning packets?

These tasted less like chocolate cake than a weird combination of bread and spray foam. We did try them topped with whipped cream, which seemed to help the overall consistency.

Like the little mantous on the packaging, I'm conflicted. On the one hand, they weren't the best thing I've ever had. But they weren't terrible, and they sure as hell weren't as disgusting as that thing we ate last week.

I have a feeling that everything we eat will be held to the standard of "It wasn't great, but it definitely wasn't as bad as that green thing."

Viet Hoa Fo Sho: Taste Test No.1 - It's all fun and games until somebody eats the sponge

A few days ago, our wonderful friends Brandon and Amanda turned us on to the Viet Hoa Market. They had been exposed to the wonder of the Vietnamese market because of it's crazy cheap food and overwhelming shopping experience.

We went there straight from Brandon and Amanda's, full of excitement and hope for delicious cheap curry and fresh fish. We were expecting good things, but what we found was amazing. The Viet Hoa is the grocery of my dreams. And it is because of this that I bring you my new weekly tribute to my local sketchy dream grocery: Viet Hoa Fo Sho.

This week: Green Spongy Mystery Food.



When I picked up this 89-cent loaf of fun, I thought that it looked kind of tasty, maybe like a green tea-flavored coconut cake. Then I gently pressed down on the top of it. It was bouncy, like Jell-o.



We set a ground rule - the food must be chewed and swallowed. No giving up and spitting it out. The food cannot win.

I took a bite, expecting it to taste like, well, something. Instead, my mouth was assaulted with the texture of fake plastic grass with a piquant styrofoam cup aftertaste. I may forget the taste, but I'll never forget trying to swallow it.




I made Matthew take a bite, and this happened:




He's all smiles now, but just wait until he sticks it in his mouth.



Since the thing was inedible, we decided to perform some experiments:

No.1 - If you can't eat it, befriend it!





It's sponge-like. Can it remove tough stains?






Matthew tried to set it on fire, but instead of igniting, it just smelled like burning plastic. Which lead us to a very important question - was this thing even meant to be eaten?




In frustration, we abandoned it on our back porch. We'll check up on it in a few days. Hopefully, it won't stain the porch or grow to ten times its size.

Next time: Emotionally conflicted cakes.

Left Behind

On Wednesday, we started the process of moving from my adorable bachlorette apartment into a duplex more suited for two people. It's a three-legged dog of a house. The stairs are wide, then suddenly narrow, no two door frames are alike, and though the bedrooms are tiny, it has the biggest bathroom I've ever seen.

When we first got the keys, we came over and sat on the back porch, eating masaman curry out of the take out container, grinning about the fact that we had a porch.

Seeing the house empty was weird. The two times we had been in before we got the keys the previous tenant had been here. She had a lot of stuff, and it nice to see the house empty and ready for us.

I say empty, but really, I mean mostly empty. She left the fake flower decorations at the tops of the kitchen windows, and a light switch cover shaped like some kind of fruit (I'm not entirely sure if it's supposed to be mango or squash), and a comically nasty hardcore porn movie review magazine on the top shelf in the downstairs bathroom.

We're finishing the move today and tomorrow, and you're all welcome to stop by and have a beer with us or unpack a box on Saturday. There will be a formal new house party later this month.

I Fly Like Paper

Hello.

To those of you that have sent worried emails (though most of you know exactly what I've been up to) I'm still here.

I can explain my absence several ways, and none of them are very good excuses.

The first one is that I work at a Web site. When one works at a Web site all day, it's hard to come home and want anything to do with the internet. Also, I've been working on this pretty awesome package for said site that I want you all to see. There will be more details later, but here's a hint: it's me, at a wrestling match.

I'm also getting ready to move. Matthew and I found a duplex in Cooper-Young, and we're moving in within the next two weeks. Given that both of us are pack rats and neither one of us particularly enjoys packing, we've made very little progress. My lease is up in 26 days, and it feels like we'll never leave here.

I haven't forgotten this blog. Really, I promise. Can we still be friends? I'll update more, I swear.

Why You'd Want To Live Here

It's Friday night, and I'm alone at home. The windows are open, as is a beer, and I'm knitting a scarf that never seems to get any longer and watching "Ugly Betty."

The scarf is my first lace. I started it a few months ago, and until recently, I've been neglecting it. It's blue mohair on size two needles. There was definitely an error in needle judgment made - the needles are about the same color as the yarn. It's coming along though.



In just under three weeks, Matthew will be moving to Memphis and into my apartment. I'm excited. I've got to be honest, though - I'm freaking out a little bit. This has been my home for almost a year, and things are as I like them. I've been almost comically resistant to moving my green couch (it's where I read the paper - right under a lamp, near the turntable, but not too close, and by a window). The major point of contention in our relationship is a shelf that we desperately need to tame the our sizable record and book collections, but won't really fit in my apartment unobtrusively.

Thankfully, we'll be looking for a bigger place once he finds a job.

Though he's my best friend, living with a boy is going to be a big adjustment. When he was here over spring break, I came home one day to find that Matthew, in a valiant effort to bring some order into my life, had looped all of my plastic bags together and placed them in a paper bag. The paper bag was supposed to serve as a dispenser for the plastic ones, which would unfurl one at a time with a gentile tug. This system somehow works at Matthew's house, under his sink.

Now, every time I go to get one plastic bag, I wind holding a long string of them.

But it makes me happy. It reminds me that though I'm not going to live alone anymore, I'm gaining Matthew, who always tries to make things easier.

I'm still freaking out a little. Any advice for a pair of first-time cohabitors?

This Is Really Cool

Matthew and I were interviewed for NPR a few weeks ago about our side project.

And today....it's up!

Check out the Bryant Park Project's blog here.

You can hear the interview here.

Seriously. Best. Day. Ever.

- k

Team Building Excersize '99

Hello!

I'm in Muncie for the weekend between jobs, visiting Matthew. It's supposed to be about 40 degrees outside tomorrow. And because there's something so wrong about wearing a wool pea coat in April, I didn't bring it with me. Ah well.

Monday, I start work at the Commercial Appeal, and I'm excited. But it's the sort of excited that you get before getting on some sort of sketchy carnival ride. I have a feeling that this will be a dare to be great situation, and I want to make the most of it.

Anyway- I'm at the Blue Bottle with Matthew, who is editing my latest r/s post. Kids, if anyone ever asks if you want to essentially start a business with your significant other, say no. It's not that we're not having fun, it's that editing each other's work is hard when feelings are involved. Like last week, when I started an editorial meeting phone call by saying "Dude, this is crap. I can't put this on the internet." Or when he just made fun of me for using "totally" and "thusly."

I'm kind of disjointed today. I'm headed to the Heorot for lunch. Mmmmm.

More later.

-k

The Collective Will of a Math Class Can Make the Snow Fall Faster

When I was in college, I worked at the most kick-ass student run Web site ever. Before I went to work as a reporter there, I had no real interest in new media journalism. After being there for a few weeks, I noticed that I had turned into a raging internet dork. Unfortunately, I hadn't had the foresight to choose "raging internet dork" as my major, and I graduated and went to work in public relations.

Today, though, I accepted a job with the Memphis Commercial Appeal's new media department. I'm going to be working for the internet, and I couldn't be more excited.

It's started to feel like spring here, and it's strange. For the last four years, I've spent spring in Indiana, where the shift from cold to warmish is entirely more noticeable.

When you're in college, spring feels so hopeful. The year is almost over, all of the hot dudes have started going shirtless on the quad again, and it's no longer too unbearably cold to stand outside between classes and eat apples while your best friend smokes. Spring feels like a promise when you're in school - it's almost done, you're almost done, and everyone is in a good mood.

As a grownup, though, it's kinda weird. The weather is there, but now, when I'm outside, it's walking from the parking garage to work. When I find time to eat lunch, it's at my desk. When you're an adult, it's a lot harder to say "screw it, eff my responsibilities, I'm going to skip those and run through that fountain, or drink beer, or stay out all night."

I've been really stressed out this week, and I didn't notice until today that the trees were green and the dogwoods had exploded, and that it was nice enough outside this morning that I didn't need my hoodie.

In two weeks, I start my new job. In two months, Matt moves here. Right now, it's 8:34 p.m., and I'm finally sitting down to a dinner of yellow Zatarains and basil-seasoned fish.

Spring is pretty great.

- K

(Hi Rachel!)

We're Gonna Get So Busted!

Matthew is in town (yay!), and yesterday, he made a promise to an NPR employee at the "Bryant Park Project" that we would take pictures of where Jeff Buckley died. We did, and then they totally put it on the NPR Web site.

How insane is that?

It's almost as insane as the green snake-shaped loaf of bread that's sitting on my kitchen table. I think it's supposed to relate to St. Patrick's day, but I haven't seen anyone but the Midtown Schnucks celebrate thusly.

Anyway. Dude! NPR? They totally put us on their site. Weird.

- K

Picture Your Day: The Photos

The photos from Feb. 29th are here.

I didn't do very well - I could have taken more pictures, or better ones. I'm going to do it again in about a month, and maybe I'll have had more time to prepare.

Enjoy!

Leap Day Photo Project

I'm participating, and so should you.




I'll post pictures tomorrow.

Meanwhile - new OTM recap at Radio Sweethearts.

I'm normally not a huge fan of sports journalism. It seems to remove all of the excitement from sports, focusing too much on the who-what-when-where-by-how-many-points. However, Geoff Calkins is brilliant.

He wrote this piece about last Saturday's Memphis basketball game against Tennessee.

Look out, Frank Deford. You may make more educated comments about wonderful and bizarre things like cricket, but Geoff Calkins makes me feel just like I did when I was standing in the Deli, watching the Tigers lose.

How you like them apples,
Kerry

Unemployment Fest '08 - Day 10: I Won't Be Taking It To Eleven

I was offered a really fantastic job yesterday, and I'm accepting! I'll have benefits, a much shorter commute, and a regular paycheck. This means I can buy groceries again! Woot!

I'm starting tomorrow, and I really couldn't be more excited.

Also, on Radio Sweethearts, Carl Kassell croons, everyone swoons, and a new OTM recap goes live.

Viva, viva,
Kerry