ah.....ah.....ACHOOOOOO

I don't care who you are, if you move to Kentucky, your nose will run like a junior ROTC program in an after school program. It will happen. Accept it...what it is we're dealing with here is the Lord wanting us out of the bluegrass and we're the idiots hanging on.

What I can't accept is the ragweed season hits me in August, the pollen hits me in May-July, and there's about a 45 minute period in August when I can breathe. I take zyrtec, allegra, nasonex, fluticasone, just about ready to try methodone, because no matter what I do, if I walk out of the hospital at about 5:15 my eyes are running by the time I reach the car. People think I'm mentally ill, as I weep and stumble to the parking deck. But the answer is,"hey man, I'm just swelling in reaction to this crappy air over here". I've actually kept a spare pair of contact lenses in my car with saline solution it's so bad. The Ohio river valley is like the land of oz, only instead of witches, tin men, and monkeys flying around there is phorma, ragweed, dust mites, white rain and tobacco flakes. What's my solution? Sinus rinses, and possibly taking a sabbatical every summer to the desert. I now understand those people wearing "life is good" tshirts and sensible shoes...they get it man, this adult onset allergy stuff is for the birds.

bad weather is comin, be safe ya'll.....

You SO BIG.

Kentucky is fat. Within Lexington we are proud to host the most sedentary population in America. So with that....we encounter the issue of the obese. Going to a bar to meet people my age, there are the glamorous people, then there are some people who sit in the couches, weighing over 400 lbs. Guess who wants to be sweet on me? The same people who sweat opening a can of beer. (bottles are too much work). Why is this place so fat...is it the fried food? The love of sugary sodas? The easy access to disability by feigning ADD? My thoughts? Southern food tastes too good. That's it...we're fat. good night

the family doctor

So it's no secret the southern people are fat. I battle my weight constantly. However, I had legitimate medical issues at the doctor today, a failing right kidney that seems to be always on the verge of collapse, other things I won't go into here as it's not relevant. The ONE thing I did not worry as much about today was my weight. The reason? I have all the skills required to fix it (and subsequently joined a gym to resume my intense spin classes immediately after this visit). There were some interesting characters in the clinic today. For one, the family medicine clinic has a policy that if a patient is 20 minutes late, they reschedule. I'm so PROUD of them for this, because people in Kentucky are usually very, very very late with no apology. I wanted to cheer for this like "yea, you tell em!"

Some of the snippets I overheard today:

"Well I didn't know I had to BATHE before this appointment"

(a girl on her cell phone who arrived an hour late, blaming it on the bus) "Yeah, my baby got to stay in daycare for an extra three hour just because that BITCH (said louder for emotive power) tell me I have to be on time for my doctor visit. What he gonna say, that I still pregnant. Yeah, I know I is."

....this one I actually took as an iphone audio file, but thought better of posting.

Or the woman who didn't fit in any of the chairs that asked to be seen earlier because "I just don't fit in this waiting room"

(in response to the commercial for the Soma backless bra)..."What do I need that for, I don't wear one now" (let's just be clear, she SHOULD wear 2, at all times)

I took my knitting as I usually do- and the husband of one of the patients kept staring at me saying "you make that look so easy"....he said it 4 times in the waiting room and once while I was waiting to have labs done. My response, nervous shuffling.

It's no wonder that when, I, a provider who is concise, accurate and proficient in providing history gets a parade and a hug. What a way to spend 2 days of my time off, visiting specialists.

It's hot enough to....wear a mumu as an obese man? Yes.

It's a 102 in the shade here in Sexy-Lexington...



I have some amazing neighbors. Fun people who make me laugh at the people around me. My neighbor across the breezeway who thinks I'm a demon-sinner...she moved out. BUT not before she posted THIS memo on the apartment website:

"Our family endured to much living there and our teenager was miserable and hated living there!
Where is true morality' They condone all types of immoral acts on the property of Patchen Oaks!
If you are a christian this place is not for you! This place is an abomination to all Godly Acts and they allow to much filth to continue to go on here! Children are subjected to enough in life without the trash they daily are subjected to at that sorry apartment complex! There is mold through out the entire complex! You can see it growing under areas where you have pictures hanging and behind furniture! Look around your baseboards! You can smell it in the breezeway real bad in building 8 We were sick from day one of moving into our apartment! Told Karen and never got a response! We were healthy when we moved in and sick the entire time we lived there we had diarrhea and vomiting! Heavy headaches! Nausea constantly!!! Since we moved out we have none been sick or felt bad at all!! We went to doctors while living there and they said it must be something in the building!"

Read more: http://www.apartmentratings.com/rate/KY-Lexington-Patchen-Oaks-Apartments-1280472.html#ixzz1RqvP9kOd

Incidentally- these people smoked in the "moldy breezeway" for hours, chain smoking. When they moved out I counted 15 silk plants. I'm not sure the nausea and diarrhea wasn't just the "sinking in" of reality that his name was actually Billy Bob and his "dress suit" was camo.

What made me open my eyes tonight and say "WOW" was the heat wave's effect. My morbidly obese neighbor who must apply self-tanner the way whales are coated with sea water was on the porch in "juicy" couture booty shorts fanning himself in a hawaiian mumu. My initial thought wasn't "oh no, sinners"...but rather "wonder if I can get ME one of them. In green."

As I went into the pool for a tepid 10pm dip tonight...there were children snorkeling around, punching each other in the face and neck, yelling things like "watch this" as they belly flopped into the water..It reminded me of that show "deadliest catch"; except the catch is impetigo.

My "south" is a place where my friends have their OWN pools, and we swim in them late night without fear of spinal injury or death from above. Unfortunately, "my south" is 6.5 hours away...and my "reality" is considering buying some cortizone as a preventative ointment, a helmet... and a mumu.

Hey mama! Let's chicken fight on daddy-brother and cousin bobby's heads!

I am the first to admit on many levels I don't belong here. I am a true southern girl...I do not have any instincts when it comes to greasing a pig or mining coal...but this is where I am. Which means, I adapt. I must admit hill people can be spicy in their humor. I was laying poolside yesterday and observing a family. Mom, stepdad, daughter with multiple tattoes including a pair of angel wings with a ring of fire on it ....the word "multiply" written across her abdomen as well as multiple asian symbols which I can only imagine are her "go-to" orders at Jin-Jin so there are no need for words and her best friend (who had braces?!?). What amazed me is the simplicity. There is no worry about "getting ahead at work" or "learning to read" There was much debate over whether or not 50 chicken nuggets would be "enough for a light snack" for 4 people...there was the discussion of the ATV accident that left her boyfriend with an abdominal lac that had been hastily re-stitched, making his "thug life" tattoo crooked. There was the question asked of me "what's that you reading." I replied "ah, this is the assessment and management guide for pediatric feeding and swallowing disorders" which fell on blank stares (I did LOVE the response of my neighbor who said "yeh man, I'm just waiting for the movie instead). All in all I find I'm adapting. I just oil myself up with banana boat, put on my ipod featuring new orleans jazz and read about the pediatric pharyngeal space being smaller allowing for better division of the airway. Today is the 4th and it's raining. So I'm being a true american: I ordered chinese and I'm knitting in my pajamas.

You's ain't from round here, is ya?

So it's no secret I'm single. I have my own scars and regrets about a former relationship that in many ways, propels me into some of the most comical dating scenarios. In Kentucky I have had MANY single dates...not many second dates. I was recently telling a coworker about them, and she encouraged me to blog about these men. First of all, they are from various sources, some are set ups from my married neighbor Robyn, from West Virginia, some from Match.com, and 2 from E-harmony. I have pretty basic standards. I have a job, live on my own, have education enough to not be addicted to meth and get to the dentist regularly. Does my date need these things? Yes. Do my dates always have these? Lord baby Jesus no.

There was (for the sake of the innocent) we'll call him B. A PhD in engineering who worked for a farm equipment company. We actually did 2 dates as one of them he brilliantly concealed his jagged meth mouth (i.e. broken chocolate chiclet teeth)...date #2 we saw "The King's Speech" and had a discussion about his teeth; he stated "18 months to have teeth done is too long". Not a single tooth in his mouth was whole, white, and I have no idea how he eats corn chips...which he loves without diffuse mandibular spasms.

The second bad tooth was just this weekend. This man worked for Toyota and didn't have a single tooth in his mouth. I probed gently about whether Toyota provided dental insurance...his response was "Aw, I don't need to worry about all that." He ate a steak, well done, butterflied...I don't know what was more upsetting, his teeth or what he did to that steak....WHO eats a WELL DONE STEAK that isn't 8 years old? I wanted to order him a plate of whole apples.... At the end of the night he worried about what we'd do on our next date. Well, cowboy, it's likely with a grill like that you also don't need to worry about gingivitis, long relationships, or what I want for Christmas.

There was the man at the dog park who asked me to Walmart...for dinner. That one I considered as I do think all people deserve a chance. I find that most men my age have 3-4 kids, (in some cases 5-6)...have angry ex wives and never knew a woman who pushed herself to finish a Master's degree when I could have been a couch potato and marry into a rich family and make babies. Might I mention the elementary school teacher who pretended to believe in God in order to teach at a local private Catholic School? There was the local real estate magnate, who lied about his age, warping 58 to 41...and having to get up from the table at dinner to take his "sugar reading". Might I add...the man who I met who posted pictures of himself from 1993...and weighed so much he didn't fit in an open booth, he also couldn't walk 15 feet without "taking a break." There are more, but the longer I reminisce, the dirtier I feel... (wait- did I mention the Iraq veteran who threw a beer at my cat, thinking it was a terrorist?)...

The irony is, the more I date, the less I need to fill the "role" of a man in my life. I feel more confident, whole, and self-assured knowing I can provide for myself, and incidentally, I have a dental cleaning and films scheduled for September 1, 11:30 am at the Kentucky Clinic...because I don't want to be "that girl."

"well, that's pretty typical for the Ohio River Valley"

Rain. Droves. Piles. Streams. Mud...aplenty. Puppy, soaking wet and curled up in front of a warm fire after a long rainy stroll on an unseasonably cold May day. It's amazing how often people talk about the weather here...Wisconsin was similar. Georgia we only talked about it if it was 105 and we'd run out of water...which does happen on occasion. I find that my mood, my energy level, and my tolerance for my dog sniffing squirrel trails is all in direct proportion to whether or not the sky is pissing. My trips to the Keeneland Race track, and also my lack of attendance at the Kentucky Derby were directly impacted by this rain. The bluegrass is so lush because it's drowning!

As spring transitions into summer I'm enjoying evening walks with Bailey through gardens, seeing my puppy embrace his large form and frolick with all the purebred labs who get to visit Ashland at night. I've had a few too many encounters with oddities at the dog park to rock it out nightly. What I'm really excited for? Baseball. More to come as I decide whether or not to support the Cincinnati Reds.

Playin' The Ponies

Well,

We're rounding the corner on the month of April, and I made sure to expose myself to Keeneland. Keeneland is an adult playland where for $5 you can watch horses race, young tan women prance around in inappropriately short dresses on rainy, windy days, and lots of men smoke, drink and bet on bigillion dollar race horses. I myself won $9, then lost $6, coming out behind because of the bourbon, but still gratified that I have bet "across the board" on a horse named Evacuation Route. My other choice, Miss Gracie, scratched, the brat...so my days as a gambler were short lived. What it reminds me of is a saying my godmother used to use. She of course, is always good for either a very uplifting mantra, or can squash an awkward teen's self confidence. The gem I recall is "rebecca, you're a better work horse than a show horse." Looking at these women in fantastic small dresses, prancing around in heels and hats despite 20mph winds, driving rain and 40degree temps tells me in a way she is right. I was wearing a scarf, a north face jacket, cowboy boots and pants...and in no aberrant fantasy land was I remotely interested in spraying my beehive with white rain, putting on a silk dress and showing my bare legs. In that respect, I'll prefer the work to the show.

I look forward to the October Keeneland Race...this one to me should be less rainy, less humid and hopefully people have the sense to cover their limbs?

i feel like I did that with my mind

The phenomena of a good southern girl is incomplete without fitness. We are either naturally skinny, morbidly obese, or struggling somewhere in the middle. I, for some time now have been struggling. I own a spin bike, 3 kettlebells, a balance ball, a sporty car, a sporty dog...and a big a$$. So...today I took my brand new, overpriced ergonomic "you only need to wear the one" sports bra for a spring jog with my lab, Bailey. Bailey is good, he attracts the right kinds of men, kids and other dogs so that I always make new friends. Today, he attracted 3 off duty very very handsome police officers. What also attracted them during our brief chat must have been my very expensive sports bra suddenly unzipping itself. Seeing their face was a mix of shock and delight, and all I could do was kinda bend over in half as I felt it not only unzip, but pull away completely. This would be a moment where any good southern girl would turn bright red. My response was hollow...a gasp. I wish I had been like "which one of you is telepathic"...however I managed to be very embarrassed and then scuttle away to rezip my chest behind one of those green utility boxes. In true gentleman/redneck form, they simple resumed beer drinking. Sexy points for Rebecca? -50. What I'm debating is how to leave comments for this item on REI.com without sounding like an unintentional stripper. Which, I guess I am.

Is that a southern accent I hear?

I am a Georgia girl. Born in Piedmont Hospitmal, raised in Sugar Hill. I refer to my mom as "mamma" and I have a cohort of family members whose stories of deabourbonth, illicit sex and insanity confirm anyone's suspicion that the southern rule of thumb is put the crazy on the front porch, add a sleeping dog and a shot gun. Well, my dog tends to stay awake but otherwise, not far from it. I spent the past 3 days in Boston working on my skills in treating head and neck cancer. I need these skills as Kentucky is top ranking in smoking, smoking while pregnant and big huge untreated cancers that patients allow to blossom into the spine before they get to the doctor. Often once there, they decided to "wait on it" prior to initiating treatment. I love these people as they remind me of where I grew up and it is strong in my list of personal goals that I make their lives better. What I do NOT understand is the Northern fascination with southern women. The past 2 nights I went out with various speech pathologists, and constantly the comment was "is that a southern accent I hear?". I wish I was sassy enough to be like "ahoy tharrrr matey, my voice be that of a hearty scallywag." But not, I say things like (while smiling)"oh yes it is, i'm here for training" and "why don't you try some of that good kentucky bourbon."
When I was younger the allure of big cities was strong. I've lived in a few of them, and all I can think about at this moment as I partake in the free WiFi at the airport bar is: I want Bailey, my own bed, 4 wheel drive and a ball cap. Time to go home. Making the move back south has made sense on so many levels. It's remarkable how putting non-native organisms into an environment can expose just what it is that we really need. I need southern accents, yes mam's, the smell of fresh cut grass and big ole southern boys.

Bourbon Sippin'

This weekend 3 friends from Wisconsin came to Kentucky. I tried to find some creative outlets and genuine experiences....so we drove around with the sunroof open looking at horse farms, drinking bourbon at Woodford Reserve, and hearing live country music in smoky bars, then hearing acoustic guitar in underground undergraduate clubs. Overall an amazing time. There were a few moments that stick out:

1) The bourbon tour guide giving a detailed description of how the cork is hammered "deep into the hole" of the bourbon barrel to prevent "seepage around the bung". So...is that a bung hole?

2) Having 4 grown women in my little 2 bedroom apartment, going out for drinks until we are all silly dizzy, then forcibly removing my friend's spider lashes and setting that shit right before we exposed her to the young boys.

3) Discovering my secret plan to own a horse farm, take hot baths and frolick with thoroughbreds....i mean the horses not thoroughbred men. Are there thoroughbred men?

This weekend gave me an amazing appreciation for the weather, the emergence of spring, and the beauty of mid twenties musicians in tight tshirts who need the voice talents of one RLH

Balls balls balls

College Basketball. This is the lifeblood of March in Lexington. There is UK irish themed basketball attire to be found. Every sports bar is full of light beer drinking blue clad fans stuffing their face. Today I was one of them. I found myself chatting with a "louisville boy" (married, blech) about how Calipari isn't an X's and O's coach, but rather a phenomenal recruiter. To be honest, I'm amazing at faking a knowledge base and my basketball beliefs are no exception.

Wowing the men at the bar with my "they should have throwback uniforms for the final four" recommendation that I dreamt of last week was particularly fantastic. Honestly, the chances of one of those boys pulling a "britney" would pump those ratings through the roof. Just picture it... oh yea. Harrelson's stats of hotness in tight shorts. Ok, so I'm a little bit of a perv. Big news.

I'm pleased to say my love of basketball has also prompted me to begin sporting a UK ball cap. What I really love? Sports and bar food.

The love of college football that I'm used to is just being supplemented by Basketball. The funny thing to me is: I'm quite tall for a woman and people chronically ask me who I played for. I wonder if small people are constantly probed about their history as a jockey.

gone but not forgotten

So I've lived here since January 21. It's March 3. I counted the number of incoming phone calls from my friends in Madison. The number is 4. And 3 of them were the same person. The feeling is, I think I have stopped existing on some level. I miss my friends there, and know it was time to go and be happier, but it's a strange isolation. I don't miss the Wisconsin that I had day to day at work, or the Wisconsin that is being smothered with protest signs. But I miss the Sunday brunch with friends by a fire...the smoky cigar bar where we knew all the regulars, the familiarity. I am driving home to Atlanta for the second week in a row, spend some time with my long time friend and her kids. New shades of red hair are a=comin.

Oh and for my Kentucky moment. I daydreamed today about having a "throwback" college basketball week...where all those boys played in the short shorts...any thoughts?

Alls I have to say is, my neighbor who proudly drives a bright blue mustang and has hair high enough to praise the Lord year round's boyfriend has the most amazing habit. This habit? Taking off work early to sit outside the apartment building where I live as her neighbor and smoke cigarettes in his boxers. And they say the industrious american spirit is dead?

Setllin In

So since December 2008 I have moved across about 12 states, traveling time zones, climates and now am settled in Lexington KY. I spent two years in Wisconsin- discovered that an average snowfall of 140 inches and the midwest mentality fit me about as well as jcrew petite capris...and I got my Georgia-native tail to the horse capitol of the world. I work in healthcare and have no complaints about my job- in fact this blog isn't about the job...it's about the culture. Tips of the iceberg:

1)Dates via match.com
a )with a toothless engineer whose best line was "No there's nothing wrong with my teeth...I just don't have any" (in response to my query as to why all his pictures were closed lipped)
b) the professor at a community college who speaks in baby talk. All the time.
c) the other professor at a community college who lives with his mom. And refers to it as the "group home". I'm not sure that's any better.

2) The first snow we had over 5" was referred to as a blizzard. When I got out my snow shovel and shoveled our sidewalks (as the apartment complex I work at doesn't do this)...a woman yelled at me that I didn't do nearly enough. Well thanks, I was infact just shoveling my happy tail to my car with MY shovel...perhaps the acid washed jeans, home perm and menthol 100's cigarettes made it too much work for her to shovel her own space?

3) The denim. The cut off mid thigh jean shorts men wear in 60 degree temps with mid calf white socks and white high top sneakers...and of COURSE the Kentucky blue t shirt with sleeves cut off

4) The band called "Local Flaverrrr" who managed to marry the concepts of rotating multicolored lights, long neck off brand beer and feedback in a bar the size of my mom's garage"

5) My attempts at international cuisine: In fact, these haven't been awful. That is until tonight, when, too tired from doing clinic while fighting a cold I found the following review of a local chinese takeout place "This is the best Chinese food I've had delivered to my apartment in Lexington, ky".... reminds me of looking round the room i can tell that you are the most beautfiul girl in the....room

6) The children. The parent's garages. The underemployment. I have decided that single men who have less than 3 kids, a job and who don't live with their mom do not exist here. My mom's response to this "you'll have to like someone SOMEDAY". Yes mom, that is true; but can he at least be divorced...and could the degree he holds not be from an ONLINE NIGHT SCHOOL?!?! The answer? I'm gonna need to drive to Cincinnati. Ironically I left a long term relationship back in Georgia and the themes of underemployment, family who had no education and intermittent digits and dentition are not new to me. The difference? Here they call it bourbon instead of whiskey.

7) The bar flies:
a) T: an unemployed 30 year old man who is strikingly handsome, an alcoholic and lives off gambling and his girlfriend who he refers to as "the temp". He recently had her buy herself an engagement ring. We met watching the Packer's playoff game before the Superbowl where he told me he could drink a pint faster than me. Perhaps Evyan Wagner can tell him the story of Rebecca, the dutchmen in Chicago and the 40oz chug off? Result: he still is buying me drinks due to the gamble he lost with me.

b) S: T's married brother who I also met watching the Packers playoff game. He likes to pretend he's single in order to "practice" flirting.

8) Walmart. ugh. People often refer to it as "the market". No.

9)The sudafed commercial on the radio. A woman with a deep southern accent states "I don't know why those lawmakers want to force me to obtain a prescription at the drugstore to buy cold medicine. They have ways to track the sales already." This was the first thing I heard driving into town. ka boom.


My plans:

1) I am going to discover amazing hiking in the central kentucky region and not end up reenacting scenes from deliverance

2) I will be taking multiple tours of bourbon distilleries

3) I will place a bet on a race horse

4) I will not take a "photo op" on a date with anyone with less than 22 teeth (note I am flexible, I didn't require a full grill)

Please, feel free to join me...on this my new adventure