Hooray for visits!! This weekend I made a brief jaunt up to Chicago to visit D Flo, who has been wanting visits since my short stay with him last year before my Japan trip (note, I still haven’t put up all my pictures from that, doh!)

I arrived at Midway and trained my way downtown successfully, with the loss of only one man. Two mans left for the rest of the weekend! (Also, D Flo, I swear there is no means of transferring from the red line to the orange line at Lake without leaving the station!)

We ate at a Mexican restaurant which was alright, except I think they made their tortilla chips with flour tortillas instead of corn. Grah! We then went to Best Buy and picked up a cheap compilation game for the xBox with Ghost Recon and Splinter Cell, and spent the latter part of the evening gaming away.

D Flo’s new pad is super nice, especially compared to his old no-bedroom one. It is great big and decorated in a very D Flo style, with hardwood floors all around. It is also right above a bar, and the living room (where I slept) was right above the stage area. It wasn’t so bad except that Friday night was apparently Live Punk Rock night.

Saturday I slept in, a big step for the no-later-than-8 trend I have picked up since starting work, but it was mostly attributed to the aforementioned punk rock show. We went out to grab food at a diner, and my appetite made a guest appearance, which I took advantage of.

We went down to Navy Pier and hopped on a boat tour (one of D Flo’s friend from his acting class is a tour guide, so we got to go for free). It was really fun and interesting, and since said tour guide was a comedian-in-training, it was entertaining as well. I got a little more sun than I had anticipated, but ah well, it will not kill me

After this, we met up with Rebecca, who works in the box office at the Briar Street theater, and assured me that if she’d known I was coming she could have hooked me up with Blue Man tickets. Doh! I may attempt to take advantage of this on my next Chicago visit.

We dined on Cold Stone (French vanilla with strawberries and oreo mix-ins, yum!) then saw a show at Second City. It was pretty funny sketch comedy and quite enjoyable. I can’t wait to see a show that D Flo is in (his D&D Improv hoo-hah starts up soon!)

After the show, D Flo and I picked up a pizza from the pizzeria right next to his place. T’was my first experience with Chicago style deep dish; it was strange but delicious. We spent the rest of the evening gaming (by which I mean my hands hurt, so I watched him play Splinter Cell).

A fine visit! I would like to go back again and have a museum day, and maybe catch Blue Man Group. Everyone should go visit D Flo and hang out at his new apartment. Win!

In other news, this visit has opened up the gates for a whole line of summer and fall visits! Lisa will have no money! But that’s okay, who wants a visit?

Ow ow ow

Last night I was playing with Brenna (specifically, we were playing “OMG let’s run to that side of the room OMG QUICK RUN BACK TO THE OTHER SIDE! *repeat*”) when my toe got caught in my pant leg as I was stepping down.

Now I have a gimp toe, on top of everything else. One does not fully appreciate the importance of the second toe in everyday tasks, like walking, until said toe has been injured.

I’m hoping it will heal up quickly, because I want to be in tip-top shape for my visit with D Flo in Chicago this weekend, as I imagine walking will be a critical part of whatever we do. Woo!


Greetings internet! I am here today to discuss the regional use of the word “tump.”

It is one of those words that was just part of my normal vocabulary growing up, and I didn’t find out until I worked up North awhile that its use was apparently regional.

For those of you unfamiliar with the word, it is a verb which I believe is some combination of “tip” and “dump,” and is used in such phrases as “Quit jostling around or you’re going to tump over the canoe!” Or, in perhaps its most useful form, “Don’t swing too high or you will tump over the swingset.”

During a ballers night discussion, I brought up that I thought the term was probably Southern in origin. Brendan rather huffily disagreed, because he had never heard the word before (he is from Richmond, a smaller town in KY) and claimed that it was not a real word and it was just something us crazy Louisvillians used.

According to Merriam-Webster, which I consider a reputable dictionary, it is in fact a real word.
Main Entry: tump
Function: verb
Etymology: perhaps akin to British dialect tumpoke to fall head over heels
intransitive senses, chiefly Southern : to tip or turn over especially accidentally — usually used with over (sooner or later everybody tumps over. Nothing to worry about if you don’t get caught under the canoe — Don Kennard)
transitive senses, chiefly Southern : to cause to tip over : OVERTURN, UPSET — usually used with over

Anyway, I checked with Will (originally from even smaller Morgansfreakinmiddleofnowhere, KY), and he also said the word was not a frequent visitor of his vocabulary. So now I’m more curious as to where “tump” is actually used?

So, internet, tell me: Do you use this word? Have you ever heard of it before? Where are you geographically located? Linguistics folk, I expect replies.


I don’t normally talk about or post about dreams because I have such a hard time listening to other people tell their dreams, or reading dream accounts, I figure it’s only fair.

But this vivid gem woke me from an early sleep and I thought it would be worth sharing.

I dreamed that the doctors found out what was wrong with me, and they had me come into the office and sit upright and submerged in one of those Japanese pot-tubs that they have at the onsens? Only obsidian.

Then they came and cut open parts of my back, where it is typically knotted, and withdrew the knots, which happened to be solid objects, or tumors, or something. I remember it hurting terribly, and being afraid, and that there was strange light, but the doctors were relatively friendly.

I also spent the last bit of while searching every nook and closet in the apartment for hidden doctors, and I locked the door to my room. Ah, the tricks the mind plays!

Flowers and Bees

So I like flowers now, quite a bit. I’m not quite sure when this happened. I think the realization started when I got my mom a bouquet from the Farmer’s Market for Mother’s Day (she was lucky, I almost blew all my money on an ostrich egg). At the rehearsal dinner for the Clark wedding, I went a step further in swooning over the table bouquets and getting to take one home with me. This, combined with Maria’s reference to some scientific hoo-hah about flowers making people happy, has made me a little more noticing of the bright little bundles.

It is strange, because I used to think nothing of flowers, and even looked down on the idea of them as a gift. “What a waste of money!” I would think, “they will shrivel in a week, and you can’t even eat them.”

But here I am today, trotting home from the Farmer’s Market not with tasty cooking ingredients or even another bottle of local honey, but with a little bouquet of flowers, all for myself.

I’m not sure if this was a sudden change, or if it was like a change of palate, something that happened slowly over time and I just didn’t notice because I didn’t give it a try during the process. Maybe these flowers are just a nice change from funeral roses.

Anyway, when I approached my apartment complex on the walk home, a bee discovered my flowers. I sat down on the curb for a long while watching him buzz around and gather up pollen on his hind legs. It was very cool. I do not know what kind of bee it was, but it had white stripes and a green jacket.

Ever time I thought he’d flown off, I would get up and walk a few paces, and he returned. He did this several times. I am wondering if he thought it was a new patch of flowers every time?

Flowers and bees are cool


I don’t know if Favorite Cake is hereditary for anyone else, but as far as my two favorite cakes, I got spice cake with vanilla icing from my Dad and yellow cake with chocolate icing from my mom.

Thus far my adventures in the new hobby of cooking have mostly stayed within the realm of cooking. I’ve tried a bit of baking offhand–Mexican chocolate cake (DELICIOUS!), homemade lemon bars from scratch (I had a whole bag of lemons, what else was I supposed to do with them?), and brownies (store-bought brownies are better, but when you are too lazy to go to the store, and just happen to have all the ingredients already anyway, why not?)

Today I was attempting to find more recipes for my cast iron skillet, and I found that one can bake a spice cake from scratch in just such a utensil! It is in the oven right now, and smells DIVINE. I’m sure it won’t taste the same as the box brand I’m used to, but it should be delicious enough in its own right if the smell is any indication.

Also, Scott brought home a huuuuuuuuuge pot for my garden on the deck. We were trying to figure out what to plant in such a gigantor pot, and today at the Farmer’s Market I saw a lady selling blueberry bushes. Problem solved.

I love to grow things. I love to nourish people. What should I do with my life?