TheMistyZone

Holy Moly, Batman!

Misty — Wed, 31 Jan 2007 12:53:18 -0600

Harry Potter got...hot! Dan Radcliffe, the actor who plays Harry Potter, is performing in London in a play called Equus. This play, by the way, is performed nude. Seriously. (And I didn't just research it because Dan Radcliffe is hot, I actually read it in college.) The main character (Dan), has an "encounter" with a girl in his family's stable. Overcome with guilt, he stabs out the eyes of all the horses who were in the stable and "saw" them. Not a 17-year-old's typical reaction to that particular experience, but I guess a round of high-fives with your buddies doesn't make for a dramatic script. Interesting though, if your average Joe wrote this play, it would be pornography (insert your own joke about potential titles here), but if you're a well-known playwright then it's apparently art. They've released publicity photos for the play; here's a particularly good one.

Public Service Announcement

Misty — Tue, 23 Jan 2007 14:08:44 -0600

I don't want to talk to you.

This is not a personal affront, because I don't know you, and I'm trying to keep it that way. If I'm sitting next to you on a plane, waiting next to you in the doctor's office, standing next to you in the insanely long line at the post office*, and especially if I'm sitting in the massage chair at the nail place having my toes done, I don't want to talk to you. I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm probably annoyed at waiting, or if I'm having a pedicure I'm blissful, and I just don't want to chat. If you ask me if I made my scarf, and I politely reply no, that I have no interest in crochet, that is code for "I don't want to have a 30 minue conversation about all the stitches that make up my scarf (since, again, I didn't make it), nor do I care about the knitted blanket your granddaughter got for her last birthday." Like I said, it's nothing personal, but I'm never going to see you again, and I have my own thoughts to deal with.

I don't know why people are compelled to make inane small talk. Uncomfort with silence? The hope that of 100 people, maybe they'll meet 1 really interesting one? I'm willing to take the chance I'm going to miss meeting a really interesting person, because talking makes me tired. I want to read my book, work my crossword, stare into space and daydream. But I don't want to talk to you.

*The post office, by the way, exemplifies every reason monopolies are illegal. Illegal unless the federal government wants to have one, then of course it's perfectly appropriate. I hate the post office.

All Men are a little Fruity

Misty — Sun, 07 Jan 2007 12:28:35 -0600

Longer post (and pics) later about my weekend in Fredericksburg, but for now a quote I saw posted in a little wine bar we visited:

Men are like wine. They start out as grapes, and women must pound the crap out of them until they become something acceptable to have dinner with.

Hee.

Perry didn't find it as funny as I did. I can't imagine why.

When the dress code is Black Tie, Lingerie, or Toga, you know it's gonna be a good party.

Misty — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 23:27:30 -0600

Quotes from the night:

"Happy New Year. Stephanie is my co-maid of honor. Peace out, bi-atch."

"Don't ask Chris to get undressed. It's not that he looks bad, but he is wearing argyle socks."

Someone explaining to Steph how to blow the party horns: "Stephanie, don't just blow the horn, seduce the horn."
Stephanie: "Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?"

And the first Darwin Award of 2006: On the drive back to San Antonio on New Year's Day, I saw a bumper sticker modeled after the yellow "Support Our Troops" ribbon. But this one has marijuana plants on it and says "Support My Habit". Now if that isn't begging for probable cause to have his car searched, I don't know what is!

See the full New Year's Eve party album here.

Footnotes and Shoenotes

Misty — Wed, 27 Dec 2006 17:26:16 -0600

After editing 100 of 237 footnotes and wading through the citation of 47 of 132 sources involved in my law journal comment, I deserve a break. A break to write a blog about shoes.

First, a simple question: Which pair cost $30 and which pair by a famous designer costs 4 times that?

...or...

Answer: As the Suave commercial says, If you can't tell, why should I? But I own the cheap ones, and they are fabulous.

Another new pair that deserves its own introduction:

You may look at these 2 recent purchases and think, Misty, you already have 9 pairs of black heels. In a purely academic sense, that is true. But I did not have fabulous designer knock-off peep toe patent leather platforms, nor did I have black leather pointy toe sky-high stilettos. If you do not understand this fine, yet critical, distinction, you need to spend a lot more time reading my blog.

Up next: several more recent purchases, which were on clearance at Target, so I don't want to hear any financial lectures. The burgundy patent leather and suede pair are likely to go straight to shoe heaven--I wore them once and nearly died. If you doubt the pain they caused me, remember this is coming from a girl that routinely wears 4 inch heels without complaint.

And finally, a few pairs that have joined the pile in the corner to which I must say Goodbye, and which one day, when I have time, really will leave the corner and go somewhere productive like Goodwill. They served me well, but, the passion has died.

The little gordita is missing the point.

Misty — Mon, 18 Dec 2006 01:02:28 -0600

I've been making an attempt to eat better. Not so much for weight loss purposes, though if 5 or 10 pounds came off in the process I wouldn't complain. But although I have a lot of healthy habits (lots of water, no soda, very little meat, no candy or other sugary snack foods), I have a weakness for anything made with fat and salt (I think I singlehandedly ate an entire pan of potato latkas at Ebony's Christmas party this weekend!). My life is pretty stressful, and I'm often tired more than I should be, so I decided I needed to make some lifestyle changes--the type I can live with forever, not just a short term crash diet. I did pretty well the last few weeks, mostly because I've been barricaded in my apartment studying. When you're by yourself and don't leave the house it's easier to eat well. But put me in a social situation and I lose my head (well, the ability to quit stuffing things into my head at any rate.)

To help me on my quest, I bought some really cool software from calorieking.com. The website has nutrition information for just about every food imaginable, including a lot of restaurants where it would be difficult to get the information otherwise. With the software, you fill in your personal information, and tell it whether your goal is to lose, maintain, or gain (ha!) and it calculates how many calories you need and helps you keep track of everything you eat and how much you exercise. It tallies your totals over the week and tells you what would happen if you contined at the same rate. I realized perhaps I was missing the point of eating healthier (and spending money on software to do so) when I looked at my information from over the weekend:

You've recorded 2177 calories on this day (subtracting 457 calories burned through exercise from 2634 calories eaten). Your target was 1279 calories. On an average person, these figures would lead to a gain of 3.9 pounds over the next month.

I especially love how all the important (and most depressing) parts are conveniently in bold for my reading ease.

The average American watches 4 hours of television a day, and about 2-1/2 of them are commericals for "My Boys".

Misty — Tue, 12 Dec 2006 20:33:38 -0600

I don't have cable. One, I'm broke, and two, I don't have time to watch it anyway. And if I did have it, I would watch, even though I don't have time, and nothing good can come of that. I would just use an antenna to get a few channels, but I live in the Medical Center and all the hospitals in the area prevent antennas from picking up any channels at all (weird, but true). So I do pay for the basic 13 channels, and and extra $2.50/month to get TBS and WGN. I love TBS; it shows sitcoms all day long and I love old sitcoms. Unfortunately, watching TBS also means seeing the commercials for their original comedies 25 times a day. I love TBS; I do not love one of its new shoes, My Boys.

The reasons are not deep or particularly persuasive. First of all, every time I hear the voice over talking about My Boys, I can't help but think of a guy referring to his, well, you know. Could they not have come up with a better title for this show? It's about a female sportswriter whose friends are all boys, and her name is PJ. PJ? Last time I checked that was a 5 year old's term for pajamas. Between My Boys and PJ, I consider cancelling my 14 channels every time I hear the commercial.

One day I thought I'd face the beast and actually watch the show, thinking maybe it would be good and solve my irritation with the commercial. No such luck. PJ is cute, blond, girly, and not at all convincing as a sportswriter who hangs out with guys. The guys she hangs out with are bland and not at all convincing as interesting people. There is little to draw you to any of the characters (which is crucial to the success of a show like this--I mean, who couldn't identify with every single one of the Friends characters at one point or another?) and the end result is that now I'm even more irritated when I see the commercial, which they still air 25 times a day even though only about 4 episodes have even been made and they air all 4 of them ad nauseum, which really precludes the need for so many commercials. I'm sorry that was a long sentence.

Anyway, I'm watching Sex and the City on TBS as I write this and can I say that Aiden is just HOT. Carrie, the stupid woman, spent 6 seasons complaining about being single, and then broke of her engagement with the hot furniture builder? She does look fantastic in the dress she's wearing when they break up, but it's very hard to feel sorry for someone who has the most perfect man in the world begging her to marry him and passes it up, just to spend 2 more seasons whining about being single. I'm also amused that Samantha appears at all in the edited TBS (though still very un-family friendly) version, and even more amused at watching all her lines that have been voiced over with less, um, graphic choices.

Sex and the City has gone to commercial. Guess, just guess, which commercial?

Bah. Humbug.

Misty — Fri, 08 Dec 2006 01:54:11 -0600

In so many ways it’s good that memories fade as time passes. The hurt of a break-up, the embarrassment of losing your skirt onstage, the bitterness of rejection from a school or a job you really wanted—all fade into the tapestry of our long-term memory as we move on in life. But every year I manage to forget that attempting to go to the grocery store between the Monday before Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day is enough to drive the most angelic among us to insanity (and I'm not one of them, so I get there a lot quicker), and every year I am reminded anew of the horror as I innocently make another weekly trip to the store and realize that the Season of ~~Angst~~ ~~Irritation~~ ~~Exploding Headaches~~ Joy has begun again.

I am not a patient person. I am not an overly tolerant person. I realize I lose a lot of karma points for this, but I figure I get at least ½ point back for admitting it and not trying to rationalize and justify why I’m that way. I’m generally amazed the level of Stupid present in the world, and for some reason this is never more true during the crowded holiday season. I know there’s a few more Scrooges out there like me (who just won’t admit it publicly), so I’m offering some shopping tips to help the Holidays be a little more Happy for all of us:

1. You are not allowed to sit with your blinker on, with your big-ass (literally) truck hanging out in the throughway in front of HEB blocking THREE lanes of traffic, waiting on someone who has not even started unloading her groceries yet, because you are too lazy to take the spot that is four more spaces down. I’m annoyed with you. Everyone else is annoyed with you. Santa has put you on his naughty list, and you’ve lost more karma points than even I have. I’m too nice to actually say this to your face (though I do daydream about it) so I’m just going to yell at you in my car like a good little American with road rage, and then write this blog.

2. Make a list. Do not stand in a crowed aisle staring at the shelf trying to decide what you need. It’s a grocery store. You’ve seen it all before. Get what you need and move it along.

3. Do no bring all of your screaming children to the grocery store.* I realize it’s too late to make an investment in birth control, but consider that for the future. In the meantime, invest in a babysitter. (Yes, I realize that children are necessary to the propagation of society and that I should be more tolerant of them. But I’m less interested in the propagation of society than I am in once, just once, leaving a grocery store without a splitting headache.)

*Please don’t email me and berate me for my lack of sensitivity towards children. In all reality I know I just have to deal with them, so please allow me the release of at least complaining about it on (my) blog (that I pay for).

4. 10 Items or Less means….10 Items or Less. If you have 20 yogurt cups, that’s still 20 items, because they all have to be scanned and bagged. I realize we’re in the midst of an education crisis in this country, but I assume you have mastered 1^st grade math. Those of us who parked 5 miles away so as not to block traffic, made a list so we wouldn’t block the aisles, didn’t bring screaming children along, and are now standing in the 10 Items or Less line with 5 items (that’s less than 10—see how that works?) deserve to get out of this store as fast as possible. (And frankly, if you’re buying a lot of produce, I think each item should count as 2 because the cashier has to weigh it and look up every single code. So to the man in front of me at the HEB at Bandera and 410 last night who had 10 produce items and 20 yogurt cups: I’m really really upset with you.)

5. On the flip side, if you only have one item, that SO doesn’t mean you get to cut in front of everyone else and go first! I can’t think of a single plausible reason why you shouldn’t have to stand in line because you’re only buying one thing. I might make an exception if impending death or voluminous blood loss is involved, but in that case groceries really shouldn’t be your top priority anyway. I paid my dues in this line, and you’ll have to do the same.

I'm the weiner!*

Misty — Fri, 01 Dec 2006 02:22:47 -0600

It's 2 a.m. and I just finished working out if that tells you anything about how screwed up my schedule is right now.

I also just got an email saying I won an ice cream scoop. That probably doesn't sound like much, but I never win contests. There's a TV gossip column I read on tvguide.com called Ask Ausiello, which is very funny, and written by the 3rd sexiest vegetarian (as voted by goveg.com. The sexiest vegetarian is Kristen Bell, who happens to star in one of my favorite shows, Veronica Mars, which is totally Nancy Drew on acid. I'm serious, if they weren't buried in a closet somewhere, I'd dig out my old Nancy Drew Files series right now [all 124 of them, of which I owned all, thank you very much] and read them all.) I'm so off track. That tends to happen when you get to a point where you're using brackets within parenthesis. Oh, right: Ask Ausiello is also fantastic if you like spoilers, which I do. I fail to see the point of watching television if you don't know what's coming. The anticipation of a thing really is better than than the thing itself, and I want to spend the week anticipating the completely unanticipated and shocking thing that's going to happen on Desperate Housewives that Sunday, knowing full well who's going to die. Anyway, Ask Ausiello, in honor of his 100th column, announced a weekly newletter with extra gossip in it, and the first 100 people to sign up won a free Ausiello Scoop ice cream scoop (seriously, brilliant marketing, there). This is a very popular column (where people actually sit at their computer at 11:59 Tuesday night and hit refresh, waiting for the column to go live at midnight) but I managed to be one of the first 100! I hate email newsletters, and I'll promptly go unsubscribe now that I've won. And I don't eat ice cream, basically, ever. But still. That's beside the point. I won!

*As to the title, I don't even remember where this joke started. But I can't help but say "weeeiner" in my head evertime I hear the word "winner". Can someone remind me please?

A Cautionary Tale

Misty — Tue, 28 Nov 2006 21:35:56 -0600

First of all, thanks for all the input in the previous post. I think they're all probably going to go. Though some people liked a couple of pairs, it certainly wasn't overwhelming love--not enough to overcome the combination of unfashionable elements and pain. I'll wear a killer pair of shoes even if they are, literally, killer--but if they're aren't cute, why deal with the pain? I also realize that my taste is often a little more out there than some people's (I've maintained for a while that once your skirt has fallen off onstage in front of 2000 people, there's not much left to be embarrassed by, thus I'm willing to take more fashion risks than some.) so I'm sure there's a few pairs in the Shoe Box that most of you secretly wince at every time you see them, but I'm not ready to part with any others yet.

So, on to the cautionary tale. Misty's a bit of an impulse buyer, says Obvious Man. Last summer I decided I had to have a pink Razr. No matter that if I waited till November my cell contract would be up and I could get one inexpensively by renewing my contract, I wanted one now. I decided eBay was the way to go. I am not a overly paranoid person (remember how I almost wired a couple hundred dollars to Australia for non-existent sunglasses?) and though some people won't buy electronics from eBay, I think that's silly. I bought my last phone on eBay and it worked great. However, I'm really not the best eBay shopper because I hate waiting, so auctions don't really work for me. So I decided to buy one from a company that was just selling them straight out, since it was still significantly cheaper than full price. This company was located in China, which didn't bother me too much. The mailman thought it was cool I was getting a package from China, my phone had cool Chinese symbols on the keypad, and I got to exchange lots of emails full of Chinese characters and adorably fractured English.. Anyway, this phone gave me problems from the very beginning, which I rationalized away for a while until I realized that the whole point of a cell phone is for the person on the other end to actually be able to hear you when you talk. Anyway, when my contract was up I bought another Razr (through Cingular this time), so now between the two phones I've essentially paid full price for one anyway. My old phone died permanently (save an occasional pitiful flash from the screen) the morning my new one came in. So I learned my lesson. This lesson is very fact specific (going to law school and reading US Supreme Court decisions makes you very good at limiting things to their specific facts instead of applying perfectly good lessons to situations where they really should apply). I'll still shop on eBay, I'll probably still buy electronics--but I will not buy cell phones from Chinese companies.

These boots are made for takin' up a lot of room in my closet.

Misty — Wed, 22 Nov 2006 21:45:38 -0600

MASSIVE Shoebox Update! I haven't updated in 6 months, and had 23 new pairs to add--I even managed pictures of most, despite still not having pictures from Europe up, 4 months ago.

This brings the grand total to 127, which I admit might be a *tad* ridiculous, if only because I almost can't get into my closet anymore. So I need your help: Below I have the pairs I'm considering getting rid of, and I'd appreciate input. It's like torture to get rid of any, because they take up such little room (individually, anyway) and I'm convinced I'll need them again one day. So if I have someone else tell me that these shoes are past their prime, and unlikely to come back into style during my lifetime, it will be much easier to part with them.

These hurt my feet and I'm not crazy about the chunky heel.

Platforms aren't quite as cool as they used to be, and the strap broke the first time I wore them. Is it worth getting them fixed, or just toss em?

I just don't know. Can anyone even suggest anything these would go with?

Again, I'm kind of over the chunky heel. Plus, they make my feet really sweaty, and they make a squishing noise that seriously sounds like I'm uh, tooting, with every step.

Same chunky heel problem, actually the whole shoe just looks kind of clunky. And they hurt.

Kind of hard to see in the picture, but they're pretty beat up.

Due to the clear plastic panel (is that ever a good idea?) these are probably goners no matter what.

A 2 Question Quiz for Men

Misty — Mon, 20 Nov 2006 17:00:51 -0600

1. When a girl sees you spit, her first thought is:

A) Ooooh, what a manly specimen of the male gender.

B) I can’t resist the testosterone oozing from his every pore; I want to jump him immediately like a crazy orangutan.

C) Eww. Yuck.

2. When a girl notices that you are chewing tobacco, her first thought is:

A) Ooooh, what a manly specimen of the male gender.

B) I can’t resist the testosterone oozing from his every pore; I want to jump him immediately like a crazy orangutan.

C) Eww. Yuck.

Hint: It’s not A or B.

I watched a couple of (manly) guys strutting their (testosterone overloaded) selves across the law school parking lot the other day, both of whom spit at some point for no apparent reason, which ~~made me want to jump them both like a crazy orangutan~~ gave me the initial idea for this post. Then, I noticed that there is a guy who sits down the row from me in class and chews tobacco. Yes, in class. He gets points for being tidy at least (ß sarcasm)—since he keeps his handy dandy spit cup right there on the desk.

I just don’t understand guys. If nothing else, go smoke a cigarette. It’s still disgusting, but at least I don’t have to watch you spit into a frakkin’ cup—IN CLASS. As far as spitting—why? Are you choking? Did a bug fly in your mouth? I’ve managed never to spit in public in my life, and given that the salivary glands in question are no different in males and females, I seen no reason why guys can’t similarly restrain themselves. The only plausible explanation is that somewhere, deep in their pre-evolutionary DNA, is the thought that it somehow makes them more manly and attractive. Well, let me clear up that erroneous belief right now. The idea that anyone would think a modern woman would be the slightly bit turned on by that is laughable. Thus, it makes me even angrier when a guy assumes such male superiority as to make a comment like “Girls are guys without logic or accountability.” (Yes, those words were actually spoken this weekend. The guy was drunk, and frankly I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse.) Well, guys are just girls without sensitivity, emotions, or the ability to keep it in their pants. Generalizations, what?

So chewing tobacco and making inane comments about women really aren’t all that connected, except that it just feeds my irritation at the clueless-ness that so many men exhibit. Luckily, most of us women actually manage to feed and clean ourselves without any male assistance, and this modicum of intelligence we’ve managed to scrape together has given us the ability to choose what males we let come anywhere near us. I would advise some of these men to take a close look at their own actions and words if they seriously expect some poor little ole girl to want to spend the rest of her IQ-challenged life with a spitting, chewing, inanity-spouting caveman.

(By the way, I hope this post was intelligible, seeing as how I am devoid of logic.)

New Post

Misty — Thu, 16 Nov 2006 20:06:31 -0600

There's a new post before this one, but you have to be logged in to see it. Figured I better not take any chances...cause the part about MySpace in the post is true (it just didn't happen to me, thank God).

You have to have a reader accout (if you don't, click on the link at the top of the left column) AND I have to give you restricted access (email me and I'll give it to you).

By request

Misty — Thu, 31 Aug 2006 18:18:25 -0500

I had a request to post the emails that my cat sent me while I was in Europe. (My grandmother helped her type since it's hard with furry paws and no opposable thumbs!) For a cat, she spells pretty well And if you wonder why it says "squeaow" instead of "meow", it's because Ella doesn't?/can't?/won't? meow. She has a little squeak that kind of ends in a mew...

*****

From: Ella

To: Misty

Subject: Squeow! My first EMail

MeeMaw might have to help me. My spellings not two good and I can't punkiate - I'll just use dashes - I'm doing good but I miss u - We enjoy u're blog but you haven't said if you miss me - Big story - I got out on the front deck – MeeMaw picked me up right away - fell and dropped me - scared me and I ran to the front door with my tail up and said "squeaow let's go in" I'm ok with staying here - still eat, drink and sleep a lot - MeeMaw thinks I drink a lot of water but I need it so I can dijest that dry food - PaPaw says I get more like Garfield every day - I still rockey with MeeMaw - I have some more places I like to park myself - The 2 black stools - I sit on one to take my bath and sit on PaPaw's and he rubs me with his foot - The only TV program I watch with him is turnment poker - I watch the chips move around - then I lay in the black chair in the back - it has a hollow spot in the seat that I fit in and then I like that black kitchen stool. I
kinda disappear into these cause I'm kinda dark – Unkles Mike and Pat are having 20th anniversaries this month - Unkle Mike and Aunt Kerrie went to San Antonio for a couple of days and Unkle Pat and Kim are going to the Carrybean for maybe 4 days. Unkle Mike is staying a couple of nights here this week - he has a week of training at DPS. Unkle Mike and Aunt Kerrie don't really like cats but I believe they like me a little. I got in the chair with Aunt Kerrie and she rockyed me - That Perry could have taken me to see you - guess that would be very stooopid - Oh well – guess he is an ok Tom cat as Tom cats go - I luv him anyway.
Will be in touch another time - Much luv from me MeeMaw and PeePaw

*****

From: Ella

To: Misty

Subject: Squeaow - here I am again

We're all doing good - PaPaw thinks I've been looking for you and I guess I have - MeeMaw tells me it will be about another week. I guess you and that Tom Cat Perry had a good time. I wouldn't mind seeing him either. Unkle Mike stayed 2 nights this week here too - I still think
he kinda likes me - Unkel Pat and Kim had a good time in the Carrybean - they have picked out a plan for a house and hope to have it built by Christmas. I been kind restless today - PaPaw said I probably was looking for Unkel Mike to come back too. It's time for MeeMaw's cereal and then to put her pjs on so we gotta go now. Maybe I might send one more EMail .

Me, PaPaw and MeeMaw love you a lot.
Ella Belle

*****

From: Ella

To: Misty

Subject: Sqeaow - I'm so happy

This will be my last EMail to you while you are in Austria - MeeMaw and PaPaw keep telling me I'll see you soon. I have been restless this week and they think I sense something is in the air. I am smart you know. I guess I think it's about time you came back and took me home to our nice apartment. It's been ok here but I never see you and it's not home. Home is where you are. MeeMaw had chemo today and that sweet Joyce Ballard is bringing supper to MeeMaw and PaPaw again. One of MeeMaw's biggest angels and I like her angels - when they are nice to me.
I don't rockey as much as I did with MeeMaw. My favorite thing now is to sit on PaPaw's stool and he always talks to me, rubs me - he's always there and I like that. Than too, as I said - I clean myself while I'm there - mostly my feet. Come night time I always go to MeeMaw's room - what was yours when you were here and MeeMaw calls it the grandkids room. My new thing is cuddling with MeeMaw for a few minutes at bedtime, however I have been stretching it this week - I accidently go to sleep and stay there longer - I always go to my spot on the towel at the bottom corner of the bed to finish out the night - I do roam. I also found another spot I like MeeMaw's desk chair - just my size. Well, I could squeaow more but MeeMaw is ready to eat some of the cookies Joyce brought and drink a glass of milk. mmmmm good I hope MeeMaw gets smart and uses that recipe for Joyces's muffins before you come home.
Love from us three - see you soon - Squeaow, Squeaow and SQUEAOW.

Status: Alive and very very tired

Misty — Sun, 30 Jul 2006 11:35:08 -0500

Stephanie emailed me to check on my "lividity" status since I've been MIA the last couple of weeks, so I figured I better let everyone know I'm still in one piece. I'm tired and pretty ready to come home. I need a vacation from my vacation! :) I'm so glad I did this, and have seen so many cool places, but I can hear Texas calling to me from across the Atlantic. I barely have enough time during the week so get homework done, then we fly off on the weekends to locations where I don't really have internet access, so it's been hard to keep the site updated. I will get summaries up of my last couple of trips (Nice and Prague) in the next few days. This weekend we're going to Salzburg (I'm going on the Sound of Music tour! I can't wait to sing "Doe, a deer" on a bus full of american tourists hurtling across the hills of Salzburg to see all the places where they filmed the movie.) and then I come home on Sunday! I land in SA at 6:45, I will then to straight to Taco Bell and home to sleep. The next week will be a Tour de Cheap Tex-Mex. Breakfast tacos from El Sol de Jalisco, Taco Cabana, Taco Bell, to Austin for Amaya's, then to Temple for Caso Ole!

Till Monday

Misty — Wed, 19 Jul 2006 04:00:56 -0500

Perry comes today! I'm leaving in an hour to go meet him in Munich. Tomorrow we fly to Nice. Like last weekend, it's doubtful I'll have internet access, so I'll update Monday.

I received an email from my cat, who is staying with my Meemaw. She's having a great time, having discovered many new places to play and hide. She also really likes to be rocked, so it looks like I might have to buy a rocker :) Anyway, poor Ella was very sad that I hadn't mentioned how much I miss her on the blog. Of course I miss her desperately, and everytime I see a little cat here, I pet it and think of her. Just don't get too attached to the big fun house, Ella, because you do have to come home to San Antonio! Reminds me of me when I was little--my parents had to drag me away from my Meemaw and Papaw's house, I never wanted to leave. Like mother, like kitty!

Days 14-17: Cinque Terre, Italy

Misty — Tue, 18 Jul 2006 16:22:47 -0500

Day 14: Thursday, July 13
I left my dorm at 7:30am for the long complicated trip to the remote villages of Cinque Terre. It involved 8 forms of transportation including 2 taxis, 2 trains, 2 buses, a subway, and a plane. I arrived at 6pm to find a cobbled, uneven set of about 100 steps leading up to the hotel. I am so not exaggerating--I took pictures of them. The taxi driver who dropped me off apparently knew everyone in town. It seems that in Italy, when you see someone you know, you either throw the middle finger or shout obscenities, then laugh hysterically because, of course, that is very funny. The other thing about Italians is that there are no unattractive ones. The flight attendants on my plane could have been super models. Everyone has perfect olive skin and perfect dark hair and perfect bikini bodies, and I felt like a dumpy pasty American all weekend.

It is HOT on the coast. Combined with the humidity, it's fairly miserable. Luckily our hotel room had air conditioning (possibly the only air conditioned building on the entire continent). We accepted that we would be hot and sweaty for four days, that any attempt on hair and makeup would be fruitless, and headed out to dinner. Italians seems fairly disinterested in any cuisine except their own. There are no other restaurants besides local Italian fare, which is fine with me--pasta is a fake-atarian's dream. We were in the Ligurian section of Italy, the home of pesto and foccaccia bread, and let me tell you that is not a bad place to be.

Day 15: Friday, July 14
Cinque Terre is actually a string of 5 tiny towns along the Mediterranean. We stayed in the western-most town, Monterosso. Friday morning we took the train down to the last town, Riomaggiore. The best part about the area is that there's not a laundry-list of tourist attractions to do. You just walk through the towns, eat the food, lay on the beach, and tell yourself every once in a while "Wow, I'm on the Italian Riviera!" After wandering through Riomaggiore, we followed the Via Del'Amore (Lovers' Lane, basically), a path along the cliff above the sea that leads to the 4th town, Manarola. From there we took the train back to our home base. The heat and humidity can really take a toll, so we took a nap before dinner, which was great Italian much like the night before. After that we went to the one nightspot in town, where the dancing a DJ are out on the beach. They played a lot of American hip-hop, which was kind of funny. One thing Americans have on Europeans is the rhythm to dance to hip hop! They also love the Grease Mega-mix, a mix of the most popular songs from the movie. We carted our tired bodies up the 100 steps and collapsed into our deliciously air-conditioned room.

Day 16: Saturday, July 15
I was traveling with a couple of friends of mine, who intelligently realized that I had no desire to take the treacherous 1-1/2 hour hike to the next town, so they let me sleep and I took the train over and met them for lunch. We sat in a cafe out over the water and had amazing pizza. Pizza really is just better in Italy, which is interesting since pizza isn't Italian at all. I'd go look up the history right now and insert it here, but it's 11:10 and I need to go to bed :) The beach was next on the list. Oddly, none of the beaches are sandy. Most are pebbly; we found one that can only be described as "kitty litter". Give that baby 1000 years and it'll have some great sand! You have to pay for an umbrella and chairs if you don't want to lay on the rocks, but it's worth the money. I spent a glorious few hours half dozing (impossible to sleep because they give the town church bells a full workout every 15 minutes). The water is completely clear; I've never seen anything like it.

Day 17: Sunday, July 16
The trip home was just as long and complicated as the trip there had been. I left the hotel at 10:30am, and flew into the Munich airport at 8:10pm. I wanted to try to get to the train station to catch the 9pm train, because the next one wasn't until 11:40. There's no way I would make it by subway, so I dashed outside, threw my stuff into a taxi and said "Can you get me to the train station in 25 minutes?" He said he could, and off we went. Bless the Germans and their complete disregard of speed limits on the Autobahn. The train left at 9:03; we pulled up to the station at 9:03. I threw money at the driver ($60!! I had forgotten the airport was a good 40km from town) ran inside, checked the display board, saw my train was on a platform at the other end of the station. Dashing madly, I saw it was still there--I ran, I ran....and reached the platform just to see it pulling away. This did NOT put me in a good mood. That means, just like the last weekend, I got to sit in the station and wait for the 11:40 train. I got into Innsbruck at 1:30am and fell into bed.

The truth is, vacations are fun and exciting and adventurous...but they are not relaxing!

Days 12-13

Misty — Mon, 17 Jul 2006 15:32:39 -0500

Day 12: Tuesday, July 11
This evening we had a reception in "the grandest room in Innsbruck". It was very grand--all gilded with chandeliers and cherub statues ensconced in alcoves in the wall, which of course were lit with precise recessed lighting. As we filed into the reception room, each of us picked up a glass of water from a tray, and once inside the room we each promptly set the glass down after realizing it was fizzy water. I will never understand Europeans and their affinity for fizzy water. It's disgusting, and like coke, only makes you thirstier. My ONE low-maintenance habit in the world (tap water) has become high maintenance over here. I just can't win. Anyway, the reception consisted of free wine and what they called heavy hors d'oeuvres, but what I call "lots of little things with gross weird pieces of meat on them that I won't eat". Needless to say, dinner was in order. The initial plan was to go to the casino in the Hilton hotel (25 Euro entry charge and men must be in coat and tie! Faaancy!) so we decided to eat at the Hilton restaurant. It was adorable; the booths surrounded on 3 sides with comfy seats, with pillows spread around on the seats. It was very "Arabian Nights". Again, I can't post pictures until I get back home, which drives me crazy, because I really want to be posting pictures to go with all the things I write about. Dinner was a long affair, as it always is over here, so we ended up not going to the casino after all. <----- Look, Dad! I avoided spending money! :)

Day 13: Wednesday, July 12
Innsbruck is the only city to have hosted the winter Olympics twice this century (1964 and 1976-interesting story is that the 1976 Olympics were awarded to Denver, but CO citizens voted not to allow any public funds to support the Games. As they were then unable to build the infrastructure needed, Innsbruck stepped in and hosted them just 12 years after its last Olympics). Anyway, there are random Olympic things scattered around, arenas and things like that. They have converted the Olympic bobsled run into a tourist attraction. For 25 Euro, you can go down the track in a converted bobsled that has wheels instead of sliding on ice. Sounds cool right? I mean, who gets to ride an Olympic bobsled?? Yeah, have you ever ridden the Avalanche Bobsled at Six Flags? It's Just Like That. Except it costs 25 Euro whereas at Six Flags you at least get to get motion sickness on plenty of other rides and buy over-priced food all day. You head bounces like a ping pong ball between the bars on either side of the car the entire ride down so essentially you can't see what's going on. The amazing thing is that the same driver took down all 8 bobsleds, one after the other. I'd like to see an CT scan of his brain! I was left a few Euros poorer and one massive headache richer. But the official story is that I got to ride the Olympic Bobsled in the Austrian Alps, because that sounds way cooler than "I paid a lot of money to ride an average sized roller coaster."

Day 11: Monday, July 10

Misty — Mon, 17 Jul 2006 15:10:37 -0500

After dragging my comatose self to class this morning after 4-1/2 hours of sleep ("Ms. Haberer, what is the legal effect of an SLC clause?" "Zzzzzzzzz....") I went promptly back to bed. Of course I got up in time for dinner, which ended up being at a little Japanese place we found in an alley. So far in Austria I've had Mexican, Italian, Greek and Japanese, but haven't actually had any real Austrian food yet. Frankly I'm a little afraid of it. I'm a picky eater, a fact which has become so glaringly apparent to me and and anyone who eats with me or tries to serve me food, that I'm compiling a list of things I won't eat just because I think you will find it really entertaining. I went waay out on a limb at the Japanese place and got Chicken Teriyaki, while Dawn and Andrew had a complicated 5 course meal for 2 that involved way too much uncooked fish. We then continued our tradition of getting dessert at dinner, and then walking directly over the best gelatto place in town and having a second dessert. It's only a Euro, and clearly calories eaten on other continents don't count anyway. Gelatto is fantastic--it's made with milk instead of cream, so it's much healthier than ice cream and actually tastes much better. It's not exactly health food, but it's probably the only thing on Earth to taste better than it's more fat-laden counterpart. Luckily this particular trend has made it the States, so at least I can feed my craving in Austin (though maybe not San Antonio). And yes, I realize that many of my blogs have focused on what I've been eating, but despite the fact that there are very few things I eat, I really enjoy the things I do eat. I think food is a huge component of travel and experiencing a culture. And although I haven't actually experienced any authentic Austrian food (yet), I promise I will soon and will immediately report back on it. If nothing else, Austrians really enjoy other types of cuisine (especially Italian), and I've been sampling plenty of that!

Funny though completely irrelevant to the rest of this post: the spell-checker on Blogware doesn't recognize the word blog!

Till next week

Misty — Wed, 12 Jul 2006 14:15:51 -0500

I leave in the morning for Italy, and won't be back till late Sunday night. I don't anticipate having any internet access while I'm there, but I'll do the next update Monday hopefully. Though I have to write a final exam Monday afternoon and I don't know how long that will take. Mission for the weekend: do not think about final exam while lying on the beach in Italy :)

Days 7-10: Bonn and Cologne, Germany

Misty — Tue, 11 Jul 2006 05:49:53 -0500

Oh, where to even begin with this one. The theme will be rain. It rained on us as we walked to the train station in Innsbruck to leave for Munich. It rained as we walked to our hotel in Munich. It rained as we lugged our suitcases from the train station in Bonn to the apartment where we were staying. The moral of the story is a taxi is worth it when it's raining, and no matter how much you want to wear cute shoes in Europe, you should just wear tennis shoes. This directly conflicts with yesterday's lesson on dressing like a European, because they would never be caught dead in public in athletic shoes (not ones meant for actual athletics, like Nike or similar--they only wear trendy type athletic looking shoes). But cobblestone streets are murder on your feet. And this is coming from a girl who's been wearing heels daily since she got her first pair at 12, so you know I'm serious.

Bonn and Cologne are rather like Fort Worth and Dallas, about an hour apart with an airport in the center. We were stationed in Bonn staying (for free!) at the apartment of the ex of one of the girls I was with. (Note to self: need European ex-boyfriend.) It's a pretty city, but not much to do. It's a university town on the Rhine, so wandered around the university area and had a drink at a biergarten on the river. By the end of the day I had purchased a pair of shoes and socks because I just couldn't take it anymore. I changed right there at the store and felt better until the next day when even the new shoes started to hurt. I had the beginning tinges of a mild cold, was exhausted and aching in every joint. Summary: I was in a terrible mood and made myself feel better by writing a long whining email to Perry. Aren't you all glad he's the one that has to deal with me? :)

Saturday we took the train up to Cologne, and saw the biggest cathedral in Germany. I'll say this: it was big. Other than that, it looked about like every other cathedral in Europe. They are beautiful, and this particular one took 600 years to build (1200-1800), but, really, you can't sit and stare at a cathedral for very long, so that took a whole 10 minutes of our day. Next we moseyed up the Rhine to the chocolate museum. That was very cool. Honestly, we use/eat so many things every day and never think about how they're actually made. They have a mini working factory in the museum so you can see the whole process. You wouldn't believe how many complicated machines it takes to make a chocolate bar. It's a testament to the genius of the industrial revolution--we take it all for granted now, but some one actually had the idea, designed, and brought into existence these machines that are able to do jobs that most of us would think only the extreme dexterity of human hands would be able to. (By the way mom--I bought you some chocolates at the factory. They won't be as good as the ones from Paris, but what is? :) I discovered that very poor Africans harvest cacao beans, which made me feel very guilty. Someone else pointed out that if we didn't eat chocolate though, they would have no jobs at all. I suppose that's true, but I'm taking International Human Rights while I'm here, so I'm kind of in a permanent state of guilt right now.

Saturday night the Germans won 3rd place in the World Cup. Based on their excitement level, I can only assume the entire country would blow up if they actually won the whole thing. Cars were driving down the road honking constantly, flags waving, drunken Germans singing and dancing in the streets. Our apartment was located a mere 2 blocks from the center of the party + you have to sleep with the windows open because it's so hot = very little sleep for Misty. My mini-cold was full blown by Saturday, so I spent most of the day in a similar mood to Friday. I think my sleep is more important that a 3rd place finish in the World Cup, but try telling that to the Germans :)

Sunday was a long day of travel back to Innsbruck. Bus to the Bonn Airport, plane to Munich Airport, S-Bahn to the Munich train station--only to discover that on Sunday nights there are 2 trains back to Innsbruck: 8:40 and 11:40. We arrived at 9:00. So we sat in the train station for 2-1/2 hours, ate some Burger King (in Europe, you can NOT Have It Your Way!), and arrived in Innsbruck at 1:30 AM. Yay, only 5 hours till I have to get up for class.

Days 5-6, Tuesday, July 4 and Wednesday, July 5

Misty — Mon, 10 Jul 2006 10:03:38 -0500

Tuesday, July 4
Last night we had the opening reception at a castle in Innsbruck. (That's the cool thing about Europe, there's just castles everywhere as if it's just no big deal.) It included a tour through the military museum, which was insufferable boring. We snuck out half-way through. I don't feel that I have to appreciate armor and weird torture weapons to have a legitimate European experience. We decided that if women had run the world, there might have been a lot of backstabbing and name calling, but definitely no icky war museums. The grounds were beautiful, however. There was a regular peacock and 2 white peacocks just wandering around. While that would be an odd occurrence, when you're at a castle in Europe, it's just normal. The regular peacock showed off his feathers for us. I tried to get some pictures, but I'm not a talented photographer. We'll see how they turn out.

After the reception, a huge group of us headed to Haufgarten, a beautiful bar with a large terrace in the middle of a park. We stayed out too late considering many of us have 8am classes, but how often will we be drinking Kirs under the starts in Austria? A group of Austrian boys took quite a liking to us. This is always an amusing experience to me, because while American girls think European boys are charming, they think we're easy. It's just a little too much fun to play with them and let them think I'm a dumb American who really thinks I'm the first foreigner who they've ever fallen madly in love with. My Austrian noticed my ring and asked if I was engaged. I said no, but that I had a boyfriend. His reply was "Are you faithful?" (!) "Uh, yes." "In love?" "Uh, yes." Oh, those Europeans.

I slept most of today, partly from staying out too late last night and partly from still being very jet lagged. After a looong nap (because is there a point to having any other kind?) we went to a Greek place for dinner. Our waiter looked like a Greek god (he was actually Greek) and had us laughing the entire time despite the fact that spoke virtually no English. Emily speaks German though, so she did some translating which just made everything funnier. At the end of the meal he taught us (we though) how to say Thank You in Greek, and made us all repeat it back to him. This grinned and said "That really means I Love You." He was fun, but leaves for 2 days for a month in Greece, so no more funny Greek dinners at his restaurant.

Wednesday, July 5
I have fallen into this pattern of sleeping for hours every day after class. I've got to find a way to get on a normal sleeping schedule, because I'm missing out on doing things here in Innsbruck. Mostly all I've done is get out of bed in time to go eat dinner. Tonight I had amazing Italian. The Germans really like their Italian food. We had a craving for Italian, and stopped at no less than 4 places, but the menus just didn't inspire us. (A brilliant European invention is posting the menus outside all the restaurants, so you can see it before you ever go in.) We finally decided to just try a place a local professor had recommended. We knew we'd hit the jackpot when the waiter (who was Italian--apparently Europe demands the proper nationality for its waiters) asked us who had sent us because they don't get many tourists. He stood by the table and translated the menu for us because the didn't have an English menu. This is the kind of service you receive every where here, even though it's customary not to tip. Service is included in the price, so they don't have to go out of their way for you at all, but they do. American servers could stand to learn a thing or two from that. Dawn and Andrew ordered a mussels appetizer. They asked the waiter what kind of sauce was on it and he, looking ever so slightly perplexed, replied "They make their own sauce!" as if it would barbaric to do anything so very gauche as putting sauce on fresh mussels! Glasses of wine flowed, salad and bread were eaten, pesto was devoured, desserts were demolished--all for under 25 Euro a person. This meal in the states would have easily run $40-50/person. I love this continent.

And finally, a thought on European fashion. Everyone is awed by them and their "impeccable" sense of fashion. I've put together a primer to help even the most fashion-challenged American look chic.
Step 1: Roll out of bed.
Step 2: Clothing
Reach into closet and put on the first items that you touch. Bonus points for multiple layers.
--2a: Easy: If you don't feel advanced enough to attempt multiple layers, at the very least your shoes should not match anything else you're wearing.
--2b: Advanced: Once you've practiced and are feeling confident, ensure that none of your multiple layers match either.
Step 3: Hair
Female: Do not comb your hair.
Male: Use copious amounts of gel to create complicated spiky style that looks as if you did not comb your hair.
Step 4: Walk down the street and do not smile at anyone.

Voila! Everyone will think you're European, at least until you open your mouth.

Days 3-4: Sunday, July 2 and Monday, July 3

Misty — Thu, 06 Jul 2006 04:59:34 -0500

Day 3: Sunday, July 2
After falling asleep at 7:30 Saturday night I slept until 11:00 Sunday morning when Dawn, my roommate, arrived and woke me up. Ahh, blissful 15-1/2 hours of sleep! We headed out for lunch only to discover that virtually nothing is open on Sundays (except in the train station, which has different rules.) We hadn't had orientation yet, so we had no idea where anything was. Finally we flagged down a cab that had a Mexican restaurant, Kahlo's (named after Frieda) advertised on the side. We asked him if the restaurant on his cab was open on Sunday; he said yes; so we told him to take us there. Let that be a lesson, kiddos: Advertising works! The food was very good, not quite Mexican (err, not Tex-Mex, anyway), maybe a little more Spanish? No chips and salsa, sadly. Dawn discovered when you order a large soda, it's still smaller than the average American serving, with no ice, the formula, at least for Sprite, is completely different, and costs 3-4 Euro ($4-5! For a soda!). I stick to water, but unlike at home, you are not immediately served a big glass of ice water that is constantly kept refilled. You have to order water, and specify tap, otherwise they bring you bottled and charge an arm and leg for it.

Day 4: Monday, July 3
The first day of classes. My body clock is still clearly confused, because I hopped out of bed at 6:30am. First, last, and only time that will ever happen! It's mile walk to school, across the fast moving Inn River and in the shadow of the Alps. I don't have my camera cord (or the correct software) so I can't post any pictures until I get back home. The walk will be nice in a couple of days, but today I have blisters--which I got while wearing tennis shoes yesterday. That probably doesn't bode well for the rest of the trip.

The tiny sodas and water glasses from yesterday are explained by today's discovery that Europeans are all about conservation. At the grocery store, you have to buy your own bags, or bring your own. There are no super-size portions. Everything is recycled. Even at large festivals (think ACL music festival type events) drinks are served in real glasses that you must pay a deposit on. If you bring the glass back, you get your deposit back. They would be horrified at the typical American site of acres of littered disposable cups the day after a big event. Cars are tiny; there are no trucks or SUVs. Tons of people walk or ride bikes/motorcycles/scooters. Everything they do is colored by a mentality of efficiency and conservation--and you begin to see why they all think America is a pit of excess and over-consumption.

Today's note to self: I couldn't find any BBQ chips at the grocery store (how do they live with themselves??) so I thought Thai Spice might be similar. They aren't. They taste like ramen seasoning on a potato chip. Yuck.

Day 2: Saturday, July 1

Misty — Wed, 05 Jul 2006 15:52:40 -0500

1:16 pm (Frankfurt time/6:16am local time): Losing 7 hours is a strange feeling. I feel like it should be Friday afternoon, although left SA almost 24 hours ago. I got about 3 good hours of sleep on the plane (neck pillow, bright orange ear plugs, and blue silk eye mask--and I don't care how silly I looked). And I know I snored because a couple of times I was awake enough to hear myself. I can only hope the droning of the plane was louder than I was. I don't understand why I snore. I'm young, female, and not overweight--not exactly the archetype of someone who drives her boyfriend to use earplugs. And it's clear I'm extremely jeg lagged because I'm admitting this on a public website. Anyway, so I'm really running on empty and some caffeine fumes. The coffee in this airport is awful. I've put 10 creamers in and it's still bad.

I arrived in Franfurt at 10am, ready to face a 6-1/2 hour layover. It took me 1-1/2 hours to find the check-in for the last leg of my trip to Innsbruck. I was really about to sit down in the terminal and cry. 5 terminals later, it turns out THERE IS NO CHECK-IN in for Austrian Airlines. They're too small, so you have to check in with Lufthansa. COULD THEY HAVE NOT PUT THAT ON MY TICKET?? 30 minutes in line and a search for a cash exchange booth later ($1.38 for a Euro?? Please!), I still have 3 hours and 20 minutes to go. I am so tired.

OH MY GOD! There was an x-rated video store right in the airport! No matter how promiscuous you think American society has become, the Europeans will always have us beat. AND people are smoking! Maybe it's just the anti-smoking propaganda fed to us from birth, but I always thought you couldn't smoke in airports because something would blow up. (Don't ask me what, this is not a well thought out theory.) I love Europe, but I do prefer pornography and smoke free airports.

1:28pm: So exhausted I'm naseous. 3 hours and 10 minutes to go.

1:54pm: I've been staring at the same page in my text book for 20 minutes. You always read that kind of thing in books and think, oh, no one actually does that. But I just did.

7:00pm: Made it to Innsbruck. Taxi took me to the wrong place even though I showed him the address before we left. At least he didn't charge me for having to turn around and go back. Lady at the front desk speaks no English and they can't find the registration list so they have no idea who I am. So, they just give me a room. I don't care; it has a bed in it and I'm going to sleep! I left my apartment in SA 26-1/2 hours ago. I may never wake up.

Day 1: Friday, June 30

Misty — Wed, 05 Jul 2006 15:41:08 -0500

9:02am: Alarm is going off. Didn't I set it for 8am? I'm a moron. I set it for pm not am.

9:02:30am: Still panicking.

9:03: Kick self into gear.

9:15am: Sara returns my call from last night. I just wanted to say bye, but she assumes something terrible has happened with Perry. When friends assume something tragic has happened because you called, it probably means you don't call enough. Need to work on this.

9:50am: Make it to airport in 47 minutes. I rock.

10:30am: Waiting calmly for flight like seasoned world traveller, not someone who showered in under 2 minutes this morning.

4:06pm (Ohio time): 4 1/2 hour layover in Cincinatti, OH--though all the stores in the airport feature Kentucky merchandise (probably because Ohio doesn't have a snappy motto like "Where the sun shines bright and the grass is blue."). I realize that missing my flight this morning probably wouldn't have been the tragedy I anticipated. I wonder how many flights from SA will arrive by the time I leave for Frankfurt at 7:45. Why did I take this flight again? Oh, yeah, it was cheap. Airlines are psychic in their ability to predict the one flight that will be most inconvenient for you and make it cheaper than all the rest.

Au Revoir/Auf Wiedersehen/Arrivederci/Bye :)

Misty — Thu, 29 Jun 2006 21:36:32 -0500

I leave tomorrow for my 24-hour (including 10 hours of layovers) journey to Innsbruck, Austria. Except for being convinced that I'm going to get stranded in a train station in some random place in Europe and either 1) never be seen again or 2) not be able to get back in time for class, get kicked out for having too many absences and lose all the money I spent to go there, I'm really excited. On a shallower note, I'm also worried about finding an iron because I don't own very many clothes that travel well. However, you should all be mildly proud that I'm only taking 8 pairs of shoes (and only half are heels!) for a 5 week trip. Rick Steves the travel guru would be offended, but that's that best I could do. My goal is to journal the trip on the blog. I won't have constant internet access, so we'll see how that works out. If you don't hear from me, I'm either lost in a Eastern European train station or just couldn't find an internet cafe

Oh and for those of you who had been asking, here's the glasses:

Adam and Emily's wedding

Misty — Tue, 27 Jun 2006 23:31:28 -0500

Here's a few pictures from my brother's wedding. I don't have very many, but hopefully I get some more later. The wedding was perfect; I cried at least 6 times. I made fun of my mom for bringing a hankie, then I was the one who bawled the whole time. I cried when Emily came out to take pictures, when my brother ushered my parents down the aisle and kissed my mom and shook my dad's hand, when Emily started crying during the ceremony, when they were introduced as "Mr. and Mrs. Adam Haberer", when the best man gave his toast ( he wrote a poem! How cool is that?), and when my uncle danced with his daughter to the same song he had danced to with her mother at their wedding. We all danced like crazy all night. I would've thought my mom had a couple of drinks the way she was dancing around, but there wasn't any alcohol so either she snuck in a flask or was just really happy ;) (Just to be clear my mother would never take a flask anywhere, she was just really happy!)

Poor Perry had people making comments to him all night about when we're going to get married. They were (mostly) joking, but I could see him starting to sweat a little! I keep telling people that since we don't live in the same town (for at least 2 more years), that really presents an obstacle to getting married anytime soon. But I guess since Adam is 22 and married, that leaves me to be the old maid older sister. I'm okay with that though. I'm picky, (a tad) high-maintenance and love living alone, so I still don't know if I can ever live with someone. If I ever do get married, I think we'll have to just live next door to each other.

Spring Break pictures

Misty — Mon, 19 Jun 2006 13:32:26 -0500

They're only 3 months late!

I Must Digress: A Serious Topic

Misty — Tue, 13 Jun 2006 13:50:05 -0500

You all know I hate to write anything serious, but I am perplexed. Last night I was running (ok, jogging slowly. And sometimes walking) and I passed a trash can with the word "fetus" graffitied on it. I'm not entirely sure why, but I find that pretty offensive. I stopped and stared with my head cocked like an inquistive puppy; I'm sure anyone passing by thought there was something wrong with me. I'm not sure what point the person who did that was trying to make. Pro-choice? Pro-life? That "fetus" is just a word that looks cool in graffiti script? Let me make clear: I take no position on this at all. I'm merely saying that graffiti on a trash can is not an effective way to make your point, whatever it is. Really, the only statement it effectively makes is "Hi, my IQ is lower than that of the spray paint I'm using right now!"

Happy Early Birthday to Me, Part 2

Misty — Mon, 12 Jun 2006 11:17:01 -0500

Here's some photos from my birthday Saturday night. We went to Vicci, which, despite being run by the Italian mob and having a ridiculous cover (who even has a cover any more? That's SO 2001! ) is a LOT of fun. We danced nonstop for 2 hours, which is much better exercise than running, I have to say.

Speaking of birthdays, my early birthday gift to myself has been worth every penny :) Though most people just give me odd looks, I at least have my mom and Barbara on my side! In response to Perry calling them welding glasses, we decided that the glasses case is slightly large, but as Barbara put it, "It's Chanel, and they don't do anything half ass!" I've even gotten emails from people who were searching for those glasses, found them on my blog, and want to know the style number and where I got them. Maybe I'm crazy, but what's life without a little crazy?