Chinese Torture

Seriously guys, I just ate some Chinese food, and I think they may have substituted the MSG for botulism. So just to throw out a warning: if you're ever in Richmond, don't go to China Top Buffet on the Midlothian Turnpike. It is definitely not a top buffet. Not on the "digestible foods" list anyway.

I'm gonna go rot on the bed now.

The River Tamer

I thought I should write to assure everyone that Richmond is proving to be a rather appealing place to be. Windy and I have been traversing around town in our now out-of-the-closet Volkswagen Beetle. (That's right, after 5 years or so of obvious denial and frustration, our red car has finally admitted to being attracted to automobiles of the same make and model.) And while racking up the milage by driving down every paved road in Richmond, we have started to get a feel for where we are.

One of the more alluring places that we have been anxious to visit is the James River. We are staying on the south side of the river, and we cross it every time we gayfully drive into town. It's not a huge, Mississippian type of river. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's not the kind of river you'd write something like The Illiad on. But it is quite stunning to look at. There are thousands of large, bald rocks which have been worn down over the years from the current. And these rocks contribute to the small yet intriguing rapids scattered about the aquavista. (YES, I've FINALLY figured out a way to use AQUAVISTA in a sentence!)

On weekends, teenagers, homeless people, and hippies gather to commune with the long-time frequenters of the river, who happen to be homeless teenage hippies. While this crowd can provide hours of entertainment for spectators and lookers-on (who happen to be different from onlookers), they can make one feel rather, I don't know, dirty. Now, I don't mean to be judgmental, but when I am afraid to get into the water downstream from someone for fear of my health, I move to a different spot. So I told Windy to follow me upstream. Watch me get ebola or something. I'm just waiting for Windy's TB test to flair up. Sheesh.

Windy kept going on and on about this Green River Preserve camp she went to as a kid. This was during her all black, turtlenecks and jewelry made from rocks phase. She claimed to be a master of crossing rivers. I mean, that's cool and all, but when I was 10 I was training to be a ninja turtle. I even had the briefs. I was a master of picking my nose. Anyway, she led the way. And we crossed it. The whole way, over dangerous rocks and swift currents. Then she showed me her River Crossing Master certificate when we got back to the room. Show off.

(Your State Here) Is For Lovers

At present, Windy and I are homeless.

I graduated on August 4 with a recording arts degree in Orlando. The day before, I was offered an internship position at a studio in Richmond, VA. In less than a week, we hired a moving company to pack our belongings, and on Thursday we drove up interstate 95 to our new hometown. That may be a little anti-climactic for those of you who didn't know, and for that I am sorry. You can always take solace in the fact that you aren't homeless.

Normally, I need some kind of adjustment period in which I accept the fact that I am moving away from one place to another. It is during this period I spend a little extra time with friends, search for housing, weigh the pros and cons of moving companies, and ready myself for a 13 hour drive to a city I have never even visited. In this case, I had no such luxury. The details of the stress Windy and I have been experiencing are not important, as the details yield no exciting epiphanies. While our bodies are created to handle situations such as these in certain ways, I must admit I would rather be hand-fed jell-o, with someone rocking me back and forth, silently stroking my hair, reading the latest installment of the Harry Potter series. Alas, we as responsible adults must do things on our own. So, here I am, in a hotel in Richmond anxious to go into the studio on Monday at 10:00 a.m. to begin my career.

If first impressions mean anything, I believe Windy and I will enjoy ourselves during our life in Richmond, no matter how long we should stay.

Here's to colder winters than Florida.