tis' the season.

I love a good CHICAGO DOG.
And this is coming from someone who avoids most fast food - I am obsessed, so so obsessed, with the new one at Sonic.
The crunch of the pickle, the kick of the pepper, the sweet relish, the zing of mustard, the celery salt, the poppy seed bun!
All for two bucks!
Seriously, it's starting to be a problem. But I keep consoling myself with the fact that it's almost the Fourth of July. And what could be more American?

Speaking of, I finished Freedom. Very messy as my boss Steffie described it, but I could not put it down. I'll be very disappointed in myself if I don't change a lot about my lifestyle and the way I think about America because of it.

I'm on to All the Pretty Horses. Cormac McCarthy has this way of writing that puts you right in the moment, a Texas desert with a thunderstorm rolling in, so lonely and so alive.

And this site is my new favorite in terms of tracking my reads and getting recommendations.

miss patti page, the singin' rage.

More Oklahoma country music fun - these pictures are everything I dream the classic country music past to be.

p.s. Listen to the White Stripes cover Patti's Conquest.

pickin' & grinnin'.

I've been knee-deep in the Oklahoma country music scene for Oklahoma Today's first annual country music issue.

I know where Red Dirt musicians like to dine, I have a new appreciation for Roger Miller, have developed a crush on Blake Shelton, and, next week I get to go to Tulsa and talk to Roy Clark about his favorite instruments - the man is a musical genius, and the clip above (sent to me by Walker who has become addicted to watching Youtube videos of him, direct gchat quote: "im super super super jealous, he's probably legitimately more talented than anyone else we'd ever meet") is further proof.

I think Roy Clark is a good metaphor for Oklahoma: cheesy and Hee Haw and Branson on the outside, real and genuine and a phenom at the guitar, banjo, fiddle, harmonica, and mandolin on the inside. Maybe that's stretching it.

pda.

my first boxing match.

Walker's trainers at Western Avenue Boxing Gym were fighting in a match in Oklahoma City and I begrudgingly agreed to go with.

This coincided perfectly with the fact that we'd just started watching The Fighter - so my idea of boxing was one of hardscrabble and Lowell and high drama and bloody hits I couldn't bring myself to watch.

The event itself was a lowrent version of what I'd imagined: hotel ballroom, "ring girls" in slutty tank tops, nice tables at the front, cocktails, silk robes, interesting audience mix...

But the actual boxing was way more interesting than I thought it would be - I was fascinated. It's so strategic and calculated and athletic. It is painful to watch, but not in the bloodyhidemyeyes way I thought it would be, because I couldn't tear my eyes away. I think I'm surprisingly hooked even if there wasn't a fairytale ending: Walker's female coach Becky couldn't box because her opponent turned up 20 pounds overweight, his male coach Travis lost fighting a guy who also came in way overweight.

I liked this description of Travis in the Oklahoma Gazette:
Now 40, Hoffman has the chiseled look of an aged fighter, a body that’s had the softness beaten out of it, and a face wearing scars and breaks like war medals. His career is catching a second wind at a time when most boxers are in their twilight years, but resilience is a family trait; his brother is Mat Hoffman, the death-defying pioneer of BMX freestyle.

Other things I've watched recently:
Talahina Nights at the DeadCenter Film Festival, in lawn chairs on the street.
...Loved it. Had some serious informative holes, but very interesting. Especially effective upon those who scratch their heads at the Kings of Leon's serious swing in style.
Midnight in Paris.
...I'm a big Woody Allen film fan and since this one is getting rave reviews, I thought it would go down in history as one of my favorite films of all time. But, eh. I mean, go see it, it's very cute. It just didn't knock my socks off like some of his other films have.
Super 8.
...a nostalgic summer film. Don't ask more from it than it offers.

i wish that i could have this moment for life.

This was so going to be a post about feeling blue, because I really miss my boyfriend.

But the other night, on my way home from work, I made a sharp turn into Guestroom and ended up with a $6 AC/DC greatest hits album.
Words can't begin to describe the enormous smile that spread across my face listening to Thunderstruck, Back in Black, It's a Long Way to the Top, and You Shook Me All Night Long. Some things are undeniable classics.



So, in classic Oprah gratitude journal style, thanks for:

summer evenings.
my mom and dad - especially being sandwiched between them on the couch.
edmond suburbia escapes - a run while the sun is setting and the smell of freshly cut grass is alive and well and old neighbors are waving and the front door is left open for me.
meg and casey.
friendships.
norman and thai food and jersey shore.
croquet in edgemere park.
that guy at the red rooster who unabashedly told us about being raped in prison.
evening chats outside of a closed starbucks with froyo. the calm of listening and being listened to.
where i live: my roommate, washer & dryer, alarm system, fridge magnets, fresh basil, pots & pans, and a fan that whirs me to sleep.
being so in love that an eight hour time difference is killing me.
on the flip side, reveling in those small moments of independence: settling down to a big tossed salad for dinner and whatever I want to watch on television.
AC/DC.
the new york times.
the black keys.
skype. oh thank you for skype!
penguins.
jonathan franzen.
nicki minaj.




p.s.
I got such great feedback on my last post (sugar snap peas with a drizzle of lemon, olive oil & parmesan, sopressata sandwiches, cold brussel sprouts, homemade cookies, blats (blt + avocado), hearty french salads that have no need for dressing), I thought I'd try again: Best advice for dealing with a long-distance relationship, go!

(Okay, I know I'm being a little silly. He'll be back by the end of July. Can't really imagine my feet in the shoes of someone whose loved one is in Afghanistan right now. Again, I am grateful.).

what's for lunch?

I would like to touch on a conundrum that's haunted me since the days of the middle school cafeteria: what's for lunch?

I'm picky about lunch in the sense that it has to meet some pretty strict requirements as I tend to go all-out for dinner:
- Cheap. Preferably brought from my house.
- Light. Preferably healthy.
- Satisfying. Keeps me away from the vending machine.
- Quick and easy to prepare, since I'll mostly be scarfing from my desk.
- Not a microwave meal. I don't care how many advances in taste Lean Cuisine makes, there is nothing about a vacuum sealed meal that appeals to me. And my number one rule in life is: don't eat something you don't really want to for the sake of convenience. (I also despise lunch meat, so sandwich-making is out).

I usually end up with a heavy rotation of toasted english muffins + almond butter, ramen noodles (44 cents!), tortilla chips + salsa and/or guacamole, goat cheese + saltines, and leftovers - I live for leftovers, I made really good pasta the other night and it's lasted me several cold pasta lunches.
...always combined with a side of fruit and, if I've skipped my morning coffee, a Diet Coke.

Sometimes this satisfies, but sometimes it doesn't - leaving all hell to break lose.
I resort to microwave popcorn from the break room.
Or I venture out into the immediate barren desert (excluding China Chef, aka "tunnel chinese") that is the downtown lunch scene: a greasy "food court" or a Quizno's/Subway. Immediately hate myself for spending money on a subpar meal.
Where are all the food trucks!? Though I did hear we're getting a coolgreens soon!

Needless to say, I'm open to suggestions.

p.s. Tonight I'm eating at Cajun King, which pretty much requires an all-day fast building up to it. I know this sounds crazy, but I swear the catfish there tastes like angel's wings. If you haven't been yet, go!