For me, the name conjured up the image of giant fields filled with whirling dervishes of body-painted hippies, stages full of bands I’d never heard of and glow sticks. Lots of glow sticks. When my cousin suggested going (she knew that I have a hard time saying no to any adventure), I thought it would be a good chance to challenge my preconceived notions.
After experiencing a weekend on The Farm, as the site in Manchester, TN is known, I decided that my pre-event imagination wasn’t far off. There were a lot of hippies. And body paint. And, for all of Security’s efforts, glow sticks. Lots of glow sticks. Continue reading
I’m applying for a job in Vail, Colorado, one that will require me to write, post photos, interact with guests, lead cruiser bike rides, hike and be all sorts of ambassador-ish and social. But, there’s a catch: I need your help. Continue reading
A friend who lives in Connecticut called me last week. Apparently the polar vortex and all of the crazy weather that has been affecting the country got to be a bit too much for her.
“I need a beach–somewhere warm, not too far from an airport. I need to get out of here,” she said.
She’s not the only one who has been feeling this way. From tweets to Facebook posts to conversations that I’ve had with friends living from Colorado to Atlanta to New Hampshire, everyone’s a bit over the cold and ready for the beach. Continue reading
I attended the Great American Beer Festival (GABF) two weekends ago in Denver. Now that I have (somewhat) recovered, I feel like I can honestly and succinctly write about it. It was amazing. Succinct enough for you? All joking aside, I have to admit that I went into the GABF with a few preconceived notions that … Continue reading
I don’t remember exactly what year it was, but I think I was in fifth grade. I do remember being incredibly excited to be going to a concert. My first real concert.
My parents were taking my sister and me to see Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton in Columbia, SC. Continue reading
I don’t like funerals. I don’t look at open caskets. I’m not one for platitudes or pats on the shoulder or being told that God just needed another angel to heaven. It’s a nice thought, but I’m not quite sure that God was putting together a foursome and thought of Papa. Who knows—maybe that’s exactly what happened.
But I do love the civilities of being Southern and the rituals of a Southern funeral. This is not to say that a Northern funeral is not as nice. I’m sure it is. But I remember attending the funeral in high school when my Northern grandmother died. It wasn’t the same. Continue reading
While it’s a well known fact that I love beer, I also love whisky and, by association, its American cousin: bourbon. I’m always up for a learning experience and when I heard that Breckenridge Distillery was hosting a bourbon bottling party, I signed up as fast as my little fingers could type. Continue reading