Out of Service

I was about to blog to warn everyone that they wouldn't be hearing from me for a while because I'll be without internet for the weekend, and then I remembered that you really haven't been hearing much from me anyway, regardless of whether I have internet or not.

Whoops.

That's going to change though. I'm going to get better. I hope. This teaching thing is really hard and I'm going to need all my resources to survive the next two years, and since blogging has always been my coping strategy in the past, I think I'll use it for this go-around.

Get excited. The next time you hear from me, I'll have a house and a job and all those fun thing that mean "grown-up."

Until then, let's pray I don't get lost in rural Alabama again. This no GPS thing is stressing me out.

Po' Monkey

I keep finding all these pictures from the summer that I never posted (and blog ideas that never made it up). Institute will do that to you, I guess. But now I have a relatively clear week, so I can get around to putting up all the pictures I've taken recently.

The first of these are pictures from my excursion to Po' Monkey during the FIRST weeks of Institute.

Po' Monkey, really Poor Monkey (gotta love that charming Southern slang), is a place unlike any other. Established in 1961, it is considered to be one of the last juke joints in the south.

We'd heard about it because it was one of those "places to see" while in the Delta. A last true remnant of juke joints? Yes please. A no-brainer.

My Fourth of July Weekend Part 2: New Orleans

After our swamp tour on Saturday morning, we drove about twenty minutes from Slidell to the great city of New Orleans. Our plan was to spend the day there, exploring a new city and enjoying an entire day of zero Teach For America discussions.

It was glorious.

Driving to our hotel took us directly past the Louisiana Superdome, which was crazy to see in real life after hearing so much about it on the news during the Hurricane Katrina aftermath.

Unfortunately, I didn't do much research on the geography of Katrina's destruction before I visited New Orleans, so a lot of the city's history felt disconnected to me. I really should have looked up the areas of the city that were untouched, damaged, or destroyed, so that I could understand the area better. But I didn't, sadly, and I felt like just a tourist out there to take pictures.

After dropping off our things at the hotel, we had lunch/dinner on Bourbon Street. Best crab cakes ever.

My Fourth of July Weekend Part 1: Swamp Tour

Oh, where to begin?

Three days off -- free of commitment and structure -- was absolute heaven. And while I am 100% in this thing, it was still incredible to spend a solid two days not talking about anything related to Teach For America or our students. Instead, during our five-hour road trip and brief fling in New Orleans, we go tot learn something about each other outside our lives as teachers.

After school on Friday, many people's Friday nights turned into what the corps members on my floor like to call an FNF. A Friday Night Fail, when you fall asleep when you get home from school and don't wake up until Saturday morning, sleeping through the evening's festivities.

I wish I'd FNF-ed. I would have felt much more rested on Saturday.

Saturday morning was the beginning of the weekend adventure. At 5 am, four fellow BamaCorps members and I piled into a couple cars and took a five-hour road trip down to New Orleans.

First stop was Dr. Wagner's Honey Island Swamp Tours in Slidell, Louisiana.

So excited to go on our swamp!

The swamp was actually beautiful. Really beautiful in it's own eery, magical way.

Headed to the Bayou

I don't want to spoil anything for my upcoming post, but I'm about to head south for my Fourth of July weekend -- to New Orleans. The agenda includes a swamp tour (hopefully some alligator wrestling. Or eating. Or both.) and an afternoon/night exploring New Orleans. Should be crazy. And crazy fun. Stay tuned!

Checking into Induction

Induction for the Teach For America 2011 BamaCorps begins today. This moment -- June 7th -- has been on my calendar since January, and it's so surreal when those days you mark on your calendar for months and months away finally get here. Where did all that time go?

Induction in Alabama will last until this weekend, and it should be a fun time. It's the opportunity for all of us in the BamaCorps -- corps members teaching in the rural Alabama area -- to get to know each other. We'll also have some regional-specific training and go to a job fair (according to the schedule). Should be busy and fun.

Then on Sunday it's off to Mississippi, where the BamaCorps will meet up with other corps from nearby regions (including Charlotte, North Carolina -- I'll get to see my friend Geales again!!!!) to train for five weeks. This will be the crash course in teaching, smashing everything we should have learned in a four-year education degree into one summer, complete with student teaching in summer school classrooms, lots of subject-specific training, and classes on classroom management.

I don't expect to get much sleep, and have stocked up on Emergen-C and tea bags to get me through. Someone please remind me to take my vitamins.

And with that, I'm off. Time to head out and start this thing. The nerves are gone and the excitement/adrenaline has temporarily replaced the rock in my stomach. I hope it stays away.

Ciao!

Lost in Rural Alabama

After a leisurely morning driving around and exploring Livingston, Alabama (where I'll be reporting for TFA duty tomorrow), Mom and I drove to the Birmingham airport to put her on a plane.

Sigh.

There's nothing quite like having your mother abandon you in a strange state to start your new life.

Kidding. I'm not starting my new life yet.

It was a sad morning.

After a long airport lunch and a teary goodbye, I got back in my car and headed back south to Demopolis, my temporary base camp until check-in time. It was supposed to be a two hour drive, but after a week or so of people telling me that I'm pretty good at directions, homegirl got cocky -- and completely lost.

Took me an extra thirty-five minutes to get home.

I ended up on the wrong county road/highway and took a substantial, though scenic, detour through Greensboro, Alabama.

Sadly, it wasn't until I got to Greensboro that I realized something was probably wrong. It all looked the same to me, but I knew we hadn't gone through there on our way to the hotel the night before. So I pulled off at a little hardware store to ask if I was still headed toward Demopolis. The woman laughed.

"Not at all, hon."

I guess I was on a parallel county road/highway to AL-43 (or whatever I wanted) that was growing increasingly less parallel and meandering farther and farther away.

She gave me directions on how to get back on track.

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Things I've Learned When Asking for Directions in Rural Alabama:

1. Don't expect cardinal directions. They don't exist out here.

2. Don't expect the person to name any street names either. They may exist, but they're probably only used by the postal service. If you live here, you'll be directed to take a left after the Hale Country Store, which is down low across there a bit, and then take a right at the first light, which'll take you around about a ways and then straight to Demopolis.

3. Follow their directions to the T. When they say go right at the first light, go right at the first light -- even though that particular first light happens to be about seven miles down the road. Don't bloody turn until you get to that light.

4. When in doubt, stop and ask for a second set of directions. The way in which they're told wont change, but the next time you stop, you've probably already completed at least one of the confusing turns, so that's one less confusing instruction for the next person to give you.

-------------------------

So that's what I did. After stopping at the little hardware store, I was completely confused and figured it was best to stop again and ask for a second set of directions. This time I stopped at a large gas station. Seemed like a safe bet. Sure enough, the moment I walked in, this really nice guy asks me if I'm looking for the bathroom.

"Actually, I'm looking for Demopolis."

He grins and points out where to go. Same directions as last time, but much easier to understand. I thank him and get back in my car. Right as I am turning left out of the gas station parking lot, the guy comes out of the store at a sprint, yelling and waving me down.

Apparently getting out of the parking lot going the right way is too much for me.

God bless that guy for sprinting after my car in the dead heat of Alabama summertime to tell me I was headed the wrong direction. Already. Probably saved me at least another half hour of driving.

And sure enough, after following that highway down a ways yonder and then taking a right onto another interstate highway, I finally made my way back into Demopolis city limits. Hallelujah. At least I got a really good view of the countryside around here. It's beautiful, and I'm happy to be spending a couple years of my life here.

Made It To Alabama

After our road trip today, I have officially driven across almost the entire continental U.S., minus only California and Georgia. 

It was such a long trip that my memory breaks it up into smaller blocks of time, and I only remember a tiny bit from each block.

From Tulsa to Little Rock, Arkansas:
Drove for two hours. Slept for two hours.

From Little Rock, Arkansas to Memphis, Tennessee:
I was determined to get a picture of every state line we crossed, but then I couldn't get one on the Arkansas border because of construction. Lame. So I tried to get one at the Tennessee border, which would have been cool since this was my first time in Tennessee.

I couldn't get one at the Tennessee border because I never saw the sign. The view was obscured by a giant line of semi trucks.

The picture doesn't even do it justice. I've never seen so many on one interstate before. But once I thought about it, it made sense that there were so many on that stretch of road, since I-40 is one of the main interstates across the U.S. It's amazing how much our country relies on cross-country truck drivers.

From Memphis, Tennessee to Mississippi State Line:

Picture of the Mississippi state line was a success, though I was too lazy to get out of the car.

From Mississippi State Line to Tupelo, Mississippi:
Mom and I couldn't remember if Elvis Presley was from Tupelo, MS or from another T-sounding city in Alabama. We decided that if he was from Tupelo, we'd know as we passed through.

Sure enough, there was a highway sign pointing us in the direction of his birthplace. However, I don't think the sign was quite big enough. In Oklahoma, if someone is from their hometown, their name gets painted on the water tower.

Just sayin.

From Tupelo, Mississippi to the Alabama State Line: 
It was getting dark quickly, so we decided for the longer route through Tuscaloosa over the shorter, windier route on county roads. This meant we hit the state line while it was still light outside. Perfect for picture-taking!

Yours truly got a few honking horns out of this photo op. Either it was my rockin travel outfit, or I was the only nerd they'd seen get out of their car to take pictures of a road sign. I prefer the first.

From the Alabama State Line to Tuscaloosa, Alabama: 
We got lost. So. Many. Times.

Or rather, the blue dot on Mom's Blackberry GPS thing was never right. The sucker refused to update. Not much help when you are whizzing around at 75 mph trying to decide if you need to turn right or not.

Me: "So I turn right?"

Mom: "Uh...." *frantic clicking/scrolling

Me: "Right or straight?! RIGHT OR STRAIGHT?!?!"

Mom: *more scrolling

Me: *drive straight

Mom: "Turn right."

From Tuscaloosa, Alabama to Eutaw, Alabama:
Mom and I counted how many states in the U.S. we have visited. I've now been to thirty of the fifty states (seriously lacking in the Ohio/Iowa area). Today I added Tennessee and Mississippi.

From Eutaw, Alabama to Demopolis, Alabama:
(paraphrasing)

Mom: "You know, when I first moved to Arizona, I looked up all the bugs in the area so I'd know which ones were poisonous. It made me feel a whole lot better about moving. You could do that too."

Me: "....."

Mom: "Or at the very least, look up where the alligators are."

On My Way

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Today I am officially leaving the state of Oklahoma and beginning the drive to my new home state of Alabama.

Crazy, crazy, crazy.

Except for being incredibly sad to leave my friends and fighting a hard rock of nerves in my stomach, I'm excited for the trip. I'm ready to start the next phase of my life, though the wonderful week spent in Oklahoma (sorry for the lax blogging) was almost enough to convince me to quit my TFA position and find something in OKC. It's probably a good thing jobs are hard to come by these days, or I might have been tempted.

 My mom and I have mapped our route from Tulsa to Demopolis, Alabama, which will take us through the grand states of Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama. Four more states! And I'll get to see Memphis, which is cool. After this entire trip is over, I'll have crossed over eight states (only missing the coasts by two -- no California or Georgia for me this time).

I promise to be more dedicated to my blog from here on out. The last couple weeks have been sparse on the blogs but full of events (the little events with big emotions), and the next few months (and years) will be big on both. Pinky promise.

With All My Love,
Virginia

Road Trip

So my awesome younger brother and I just drove across almost half the United States on Saturday and Sunday. It was a long two days.

On Day One, we drove through the entire state of New Mexico. First impressions were that it was very dry, rather level and uninteresting in most places, with small shrubs and large rocky mountains off in the distance (which, no matter how far we drove, we never reached).

I think it's safe to say that the interstates in the U.S. always take the most boring route possible. If it's interesting, it's probably still on Route 66.

After a twelve-hour drive the first day, and losing two hours from Daylights Savings Time, we arrived at our hotel in Amarillo, TX at 2:10 a.m. -- fourteen hours after leaving Tucson (we got a way later start than we would have liked).

I've never slept so well in my life. I was out.

The next morning, at our continental breakfast ...

You Texans. You would.

Then it was on to Oklahoma!

Those of you who have drive through any part of the Oklahoma/Texas panhandle know that I am not exaggerating in the slightest bit when I say that there is nothing flatter than the panhandle.

Soooooooooo flaaaaaaaaaaaaaat.

There's nothing out there but fields (flat fields with nothing growing very high yet), the occasional farmhouse, and some trees which that farmer planted to protect his house from the sweeping wind (which would randomly buffet my car a foot to the left now and then as I drove through).

The second leg of the trip was uneventful and didn't take very long (only four hours or so). And once in Oklahoma City, we had a few hours to spare before I had to drop Stan off at the airport, so we got lunch and caught the tail end of a baseball game in Bricktown -- which just happened to be the Big 12 Championship game. The perfect ending to the sibling-bonding road trip.

And then naturally, to wrap up an otherwise perfect trip, we got completely lost on the way to the airport and thought for a moment that we'd miss Stan's flight. But we didn't, and all is well.

So ends the first half of my cross-country trip to my new home. Stay tuned for tales of my shenanigans in Oklahoma and the road trip to Alabama.

An Excursion to Pops

"Get your kicks... on Route 66!" 

-- that one song about Route 66

One particularly large item on my "List of Things to Do Before I Graduate" -- besides skipping class to get swirls at the Mont and eating at Bobo's Chicken in OKC -- has always been going to this magical place called Pops.

I'd heard about it once freshman year, where it went on my list immediately. But it's forty minutes away in Arcadia and I don't have a car and all sorts of other excuses, so I never went.

But now I'm graduating in five weeks. We're getting down to the wire, people. It's a now-or-never situation.

So it took all the way until my senior year -- and the panic of "I'll never get to do this again!"-- to get my butt up there to check it out.

I wish I hadn't waited so long. But I finally went to Pops last week.

And took a gazillion pictures and watched a gorgeous sunset and drank a Yacht Club Birch Beer soda and a funky cream soda (with a cool label). Barry had some cola with the Colorado flag on it and pop called Oregon Marionberry. We take geographically diversity very seriously.

From Left to Right: Zuberfizz Cola, Celon's Mythical Créme Soda, Yacht Club Birch Beer, and Oregon Marionberry. Mine were the two in the middle.

It was great.

What's Pops, you ask?

Pops is this awesome gas station/restaurant/soda shop. They sell gas and burgers and about 500 different kinds of pop. And they have a giant neon pop bottle outside.

On the outside, the gas station/restaurant kinda looks like a big retro space ship, and inside, the walls on both sides are made of glass. And, lining both walls, floor to ceiling, are rows and rows of pop bottles (which are unfortunately for looking only and are glued to the shelves).

Like I said, it's a magical place.

And that, my friends, is the story of my adventure to Pops. Next time you are on Route 66, just outside Arcadia, you should stop on by. It's worth the detour (or a trip unto itself).

Adventurous?

Today I bought lunch at the Chinese restaurant in the Union. Which is significant, because no one ever eats there. Not sure why though. I guess it looks kinda sketch.

But because of the above, it also always has the shortest line. And seeing as the Quiznos line wrapped around the corner, and I'd forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, a short food line looked preeeetty appealing.

I decided to be adventurous and try it out.

Verdict: Not bad. Probably wont eat there again, but the chow mein was delish. It's hard to mess up chow mein.

Sorry for the blurriness. Photo was taken on the sly.

Also, I like how my definition of adventurous now includes ordering Chinese take-out.

What is my life coming to?

Recap of an Adventure

Sometimes life progresses along a straight line, routine and expected. And then sometimes, life throws you a very (very) awesome curveball.

On Sunday afternoon, I got a text from one of the guys on my business team-- and in an instant, the next three days took on a completely different turn.

The text was something along the lines of, "We're taking a road trip to Chicago tomorrow. Want to come?"

Whaaaa?!

Suddenly, instead of heading back to Norman before the winter storm hit, which I'd been tossing around in my mind earlier that day, I was headed north to beat the snow slowly rolling across the south-east. 

Less than twenty-four hours later, I was on my way to Chicago. Headed to the Windy City -- which was apparently named so because of its shady politics, not its nasty weather.

Day 1 - In Which We Follow Through on the Spontaneous Road Trip