My title today is in honor of all those East Tennessee folks who pronounce the days of the week as if they end in a long “e.” Like, “Mundee” or “Tuesdee.” Today is Fridee. Woo hoo!
Speaking of East Tennessee-speak, Frenchy and I were at Rooster’s last week, and we were talking to two fellows (“fellars”) who just moved here from that other “T” state, the one which thought it would be a good idea to launch George W. Bush’s political career by electing him governor. Way to go, Texas! So, these boys we were talking to are architects, and along with “drawin’ pichurs” (or “drafting” as they like to call it), they also occasionally have to go to building sites in Knoxville and some of our surrounding counties, like Blount and Sevier. They were telling us that they’ve had a little trouble learning the names of the towns they’ve been going to. What seemed like “Mary-ville” on a map actually turned out to be “Murvul,” and what they thought was “Sevier-ville” was really “Suvervul.” They also claimed to have found out that “Oak Ridge” was really “Oakridge,” (accent on the “oak”), but I’m not familiar with that pronunciation.
Moving on...I know I just talked about the 102.1 morning show a couple of days ago (and I might’ve even mentioned it before that…because I feel that strongly about it), but I have to ask: Does anyone else think that Marc Anthony is a total ass? Please tell me that you do. I dislike him so much that, one time, I had Philly, who vaguely knows Marc from poker at Bailey’s, ask him why he is such a jerk on the air. He claimed that “prick” was just the role he was playing, you know, for ratings and all. Well, Marc, I don’t think it’s working. When I get in the car to go to work every morning, I almost always have my radio on 102.1 from the night before. I can usually stand listening to it for about thirty seconds, and then I have to change the station. The only part of the 102.1 morning show that I like (sometimes I’ll switch back over if every other station is airing commercials) is when someone calls in, and at the end of the conversation with the caller (during which, Marc has probably insulted said caller about fourteen times), he’ll ask, “Do you have a favorite radio station?” And I guess the caller is supposed to say (exuberantly), “STAR 102.1!!!!” But about half the time, the caller will just say, “Yes I do!” And then it cuts to commercial. I love it when that happens! Makes me smile every time. I envision myself calling in (because I always like to start off my day by being ridiculed), and when he asks if I have a favorite radio station, saying “Yes, and it’s not this one!” Take that, Mr. I-Think-I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Else Anthony!
And now I’ve officially made my second enemy, via blog. (Charlie Brown was the first.)
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Human Anatomy 101
On her Facebook profile, Frenchy has quoted something that I apparently said one night while I was very...shall we say...inebriated. We were discussing "sex," a topic which seems to come up in conversation a lot when alcohol is involved. And I would like to point out that this statement has nothing to do with my views on homosexuality, and has much more to do with my views on...physics.
Also, my verbage that night was outstanding.
Candy, on sex: "I am a firm believer that you need an innie and an outie."
Well put, Drunk Self.
Also, my verbage that night was outstanding.
Candy, on sex: "I am a firm believer that you need an innie and an outie."
Well put, Drunk Self.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
On My Way to Work This Morning...
I was listening to 94.9, which is actually a Tri-Cities radio station, but I always listen to it in the mornings because I can’t stand the 102.1 morning show. First, I heard this quote, which I thought was both funny and TRUE:
“Walmart…it’s the rednecks’ Belk.”
Then, during the “news” portion of the show, I heard the following (true) story:
Two guys were out drinking (a lot, apparently), and they decided to drive home. One of the men didn’t have any legs, but wanted to drive nevertheless. So, the leg-less man sat in the other man’s lap, and while Leg-less did the steering, his buddy worked the pedals. (This sounds like a recipe for disaster anytime, much less when alcohol is involved.) Not surprisingly, the men were driving somewhat erratically and were pulled over by the police. And because they were both operating the vehicle, they both were charged with DUI. My favorite part of the story? This was Leg-less’s THIRD DUI.
For God’s sake, man, stop sitting in other people’s laps and trying to drive while you’re drunk. Clearly it’s not working.
“Walmart…it’s the rednecks’ Belk.”
Then, during the “news” portion of the show, I heard the following (true) story:
Two guys were out drinking (a lot, apparently), and they decided to drive home. One of the men didn’t have any legs, but wanted to drive nevertheless. So, the leg-less man sat in the other man’s lap, and while Leg-less did the steering, his buddy worked the pedals. (This sounds like a recipe for disaster anytime, much less when alcohol is involved.) Not surprisingly, the men were driving somewhat erratically and were pulled over by the police. And because they were both operating the vehicle, they both were charged with DUI. My favorite part of the story? This was Leg-less’s THIRD DUI.
For God’s sake, man, stop sitting in other people’s laps and trying to drive while you’re drunk. Clearly it’s not working.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
V.I.P.'s
Yesterday after work, Frenchy and I went to the VIP Opening of the new movie theater on Gay Street. Of course, neither one of us had actually been invited to it, but Ron and Philly (who were invited) are in Vegas right now, so they offered their invitation to me.
The first thing we noticed when we arrived (well, after we took notice of where the bar was, of course) was that we were pretty much the only single people there, except maybe for the movie theater employees, who were probably eighteen years old. The second thing we noticed was that, of the women who were there (who were all married, of course), it was easy to tell which ones have jobs and which ones don’t. The ones who work looked like Frenchy and me: they were wearing suits or other office-appropriate attire, and their hair and makeup (which had probably been done at seven a.m. that morning) were starting the wilt. Then, there were the women who don’t work. Yeah, they were the ones wearing cocktail dresses (I mean, come on, this “party” was at five o’clock on a Monday afternoon…at a movie theater) and three pounds of fresh makeup.
Naturally, Frenchy and I took advantage of the Free Booze and had a couple of glasses of wine. I then spent the next forty-five minutes searching for the shrimp cocktail, which I knew was there somewhere (because I kept seeing it on people’s plates), but could not FOR THE LIFE OF ME find. (I finally found it.) After my second glass of wine, I worked up the courage to introduce myself to Mayor Haslam, who Frenchy and I think is just the cutest thing ever. Doesn’t everyone think that? We agreed that, if he didn’t have so damn much integrity, we would so have an affair with him. (Just kidding, Mrs. Haslam!)
At about 6:15, people started heading toward the theaters, because the “finale” of the party was the screening of one of three newly released movies. Even though The Nanny Diaries was one of the movies being shown (which Frenchy and I both want to see), we decided that we weren’t really in a Movie Mood, so we left the theater and walked over to Downtown Grill. After about an hour there, we decided to head home, and as we were walking back to the car, we were surprised to see a crowd of people pouring out of the movie theater. “Okay, surely the movies aren’t over already,” we said. “It’s only been an hour!” Then, we overheard a man say to his wife, “Well, it looks like the power is on everywhere else….” We immediately asked someone if the electricity had gone off at the movie theater, and sure enough, only a few minutes after the movies had started, the electricity went out, and KUB informed the theater employees that they weren’t going to be able to get it back on any time soon.
Needless to say, Frenchy and I were glad that we didn’t stick around to watch a movie!
The first thing we noticed when we arrived (well, after we took notice of where the bar was, of course) was that we were pretty much the only single people there, except maybe for the movie theater employees, who were probably eighteen years old. The second thing we noticed was that, of the women who were there (who were all married, of course), it was easy to tell which ones have jobs and which ones don’t. The ones who work looked like Frenchy and me: they were wearing suits or other office-appropriate attire, and their hair and makeup (which had probably been done at seven a.m. that morning) were starting the wilt. Then, there were the women who don’t work. Yeah, they were the ones wearing cocktail dresses (I mean, come on, this “party” was at five o’clock on a Monday afternoon…at a movie theater) and three pounds of fresh makeup.
Naturally, Frenchy and I took advantage of the Free Booze and had a couple of glasses of wine. I then spent the next forty-five minutes searching for the shrimp cocktail, which I knew was there somewhere (because I kept seeing it on people’s plates), but could not FOR THE LIFE OF ME find. (I finally found it.) After my second glass of wine, I worked up the courage to introduce myself to Mayor Haslam, who Frenchy and I think is just the cutest thing ever. Doesn’t everyone think that? We agreed that, if he didn’t have so damn much integrity, we would so have an affair with him. (Just kidding, Mrs. Haslam!)
At about 6:15, people started heading toward the theaters, because the “finale” of the party was the screening of one of three newly released movies. Even though The Nanny Diaries was one of the movies being shown (which Frenchy and I both want to see), we decided that we weren’t really in a Movie Mood, so we left the theater and walked over to Downtown Grill. After about an hour there, we decided to head home, and as we were walking back to the car, we were surprised to see a crowd of people pouring out of the movie theater. “Okay, surely the movies aren’t over already,” we said. “It’s only been an hour!” Then, we overheard a man say to his wife, “Well, it looks like the power is on everywhere else….” We immediately asked someone if the electricity had gone off at the movie theater, and sure enough, only a few minutes after the movies had started, the electricity went out, and KUB informed the theater employees that they weren’t going to be able to get it back on any time soon.
Needless to say, Frenchy and I were glad that we didn’t stick around to watch a movie!
Sunday, August 26, 2007
And then...
You know how, when someone is telling you a story, and when they get to the end of the story and it's obvious that they've built it up way more than they should have, it's customary for them to say, "And then I found twenty dollars..."?
Well, I went to Nashville to visit LaToya this weekend, and (naturally) we went out to some bars last night. We had met up with LaToya's friends at The Stage after dinner, and for the first hour that we were there, I was not having a good time. For one thing, the bar was so packed that you couldn't move, and furthermore, the band was only playing country music. I know, I know, it's Nashville; what did I expect, hip-hop? However, I haven't listened to country music since Garth and Wynonna were topping the charts, so even though the band was playing current "hits," I didn't know a single song.
LaToya, on the other hand, knew every word.
So, while LaToya and the other girls were busy singing their hearts out on the dancefloor, I decided to head to the bar to get a drink and (hopefully) strike up a conversation with someone interesting. After I'd gotten my drink (a vodka and Red Bull...just givin' ya the details), I turned around to survey the room, I glanced down at the floor, and then...I found twenty dollars!
It was the turning point of the night...from then on, I had a great time (which also might've had something to do with the vodka and Red Bull I drank). And I was so excited about my "find," that I even had LaToya take a picture to document it:
Well, I went to Nashville to visit LaToya this weekend, and (naturally) we went out to some bars last night. We had met up with LaToya's friends at The Stage after dinner, and for the first hour that we were there, I was not having a good time. For one thing, the bar was so packed that you couldn't move, and furthermore, the band was only playing country music. I know, I know, it's Nashville; what did I expect, hip-hop? However, I haven't listened to country music since Garth and Wynonna were topping the charts, so even though the band was playing current "hits," I didn't know a single song.
LaToya, on the other hand, knew every word.
So, while LaToya and the other girls were busy singing their hearts out on the dancefloor, I decided to head to the bar to get a drink and (hopefully) strike up a conversation with someone interesting. After I'd gotten my drink (a vodka and Red Bull...just givin' ya the details), I turned around to survey the room, I glanced down at the floor, and then...I found twenty dollars!
It was the turning point of the night...from then on, I had a great time (which also might've had something to do with the vodka and Red Bull I drank). And I was so excited about my "find," that I even had LaToya take a picture to document it:
Of course, I immediately spent the twenty dollars on drinks for LaToya and me, so I was only richer for a short time. But it's still a cool story, right?
And then I found twenty dollars.
Friday, August 24, 2007
My Second Career
You know how really, really pretty girls get told all the time, by complete strangers (and men trying to get in their pants), "You are so beautiful. You should be a model!"
Yeah, no one's ever told me that.
Well, I'm sitting at Bailey's playing poker the other night, and the man two seats down from me is staring at me, I can tell. I'm trying to figure out what he's looking at, like maybe I have a giant booger or a boob hanging out. And suddenly he says to me,
"You should be a hand model."
Good to know that at least one part of me is Photo Shoot Material.
Yeah, no one's ever told me that.
Well, I'm sitting at Bailey's playing poker the other night, and the man two seats down from me is staring at me, I can tell. I'm trying to figure out what he's looking at, like maybe I have a giant booger or a boob hanging out. And suddenly he says to me,
"You should be a hand model."
Good to know that at least one part of me is Photo Shoot Material.
TGIF
I got my first paycheck today. Damn taxes...I can already feel myself becoming a conservative.
(Not really.)
In other news, my very nice, only slightly geeky friend (hehe) showed me how to buy a domain name and switch my blog over to a new address, so from now on, you'll be able to find Legally Brunette at http://www.candacegarner.com/. I figured I'd save people the effort of having to type "blogspot." Of course, if you like typing "blogspot," you can still go to the old address, and it'll automatically redirect you.
(Not really.)
In other news, my very nice, only slightly geeky friend (hehe) showed me how to buy a domain name and switch my blog over to a new address, so from now on, you'll be able to find Legally Brunette at http://www.candacegarner.com/. I figured I'd save people the effort of having to type "blogspot." Of course, if you like typing "blogspot," you can still go to the old address, and it'll automatically redirect you.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Re: Ketchup Packets
Dear Heinz,
I am SICK and TIRED of dealing with your damn ketchup packets. I know damn well that you have the ability to put more than an eighth of a teaspoon in each packet, but nooooo...you make me sit there, tearing into packet after packet...all for the yield of enough ketchup for about three fries, which are now cold, thanks to you, because I just spent ten minutes trying to open that one packet, which FOR THE LOVE OF GOD would not tear.
Here's an idea: How 'bout catching up with the barbecue sauce industry and investing in some little plastic tubs?
IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?
Sincerely,
Candy
I am SICK and TIRED of dealing with your damn ketchup packets. I know damn well that you have the ability to put more than an eighth of a teaspoon in each packet, but nooooo...you make me sit there, tearing into packet after packet...all for the yield of enough ketchup for about three fries, which are now cold, thanks to you, because I just spent ten minutes trying to open that one packet, which FOR THE LOVE OF GOD would not tear.
Here's an idea: How 'bout catching up with the barbecue sauce industry and investing in some little plastic tubs?
IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?
Sincerely,
Candy
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Big News
As of Monday, I am now an (unlicensed) associate at The Firm. If you’ve been reading Legally Brunette for awhile, then you might remember that I worked for this same law firm last summer, as a clerk; however, back then, I called it by a different pseudonym, which I won't be repeating here. (If you're that nosy, I'm sure you can look through my archives and find it.) I've decided to go with "The Firm" from here on out, for two reasons. One, there aren't that many law firms in Knoxville, and I thought it would be pretty easy for strangers to figure out which one I work for, based on my other, not-so-ambiguous name for it. And two, "The Firm" makes me feel like a John Grisham character. (Hopefully one who makes it to the end of the story.) Of course, if I were smart, I wouldn't need to use a pseudonym for my employer, because I wouldn't be blogging about my job or anything that goes on there. I've been warned many times that blogging about (or at) work is a recipe for disaster. However, knowing me, I'm sure I'll mention The Firm at least occasionally (but I'll only blog about work-related topics that won't get me in any trouble...you know, like client names and settlement amounts and such).
I hope that came off as facetious.
Even though I’ve only been there for two days, I’m really enjoying my job so far. It entails a lot of writing (which…clearly…I don’t mind), and this means that my day goes by really fast. I don’t think people realize how quickly times flies when you’re writing, because not a lot of people write all that much, but when I'm writing (or "composing," as Blogger calls it), three hours feels like thirty minutes. On Monday I spent a couple of hours with the Firm Administrator, who’s in charge of personnel-type stuff, and he went through all of my insurance options with me. My favorite part of that whole day was the following exchange, the purpose of which was to determine my premiums, not to “get personal.”
F.A.: You don’t have any children, do you?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Are you married?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Planning to get married soon?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Happily single?
Candy: Yep.
F.A.: (laughing) Good for you!
Clearly, Firm Administrator is a man.
I also think that I’m really going to like working there because of the hours. Granted, it sucks to have to be at work at 8:15 every day, but when 5:15 rolls around, I am DONE. (Unless I plan on trying to make partner, and then I'll be done around 7:15.) Never again will I be spending my nights doing law school homework, tutoring high-schoolers for the ACT and SAT, or working at the law library. My nights are finally ALL MINE. I might even start going to the gym (although probably not).
My other Big News is that I have found an APARTMENT!!!! Yes, after three years of living with Philly and Ron, I'm finally going back out on my own. It’s not that I don’t like living with P and R (they're much easier to live with than most parents), but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I just really want my own "space." Also, I feel that my belongings will be much safer the further they are from poor Ron, who, bless his heart, breaks everything he touches. Example: While sitting in the tub a couple of weeks ago, I glanced over at the ceramic box sitting on the back of my toilet, which I keep cotton balls in (in the box, not in the toilet). The lid of this box (did I mention it’s ceramic?) has a sort of “figurine” on it (also ceramic), consisting of a girl in a bathing suit and matching cap, sitting with her legs stretched out. So, I glanced over at this box, and lo and behold, the girl in a bathing suit no longer has a head. Just one item on the unending list of Casualties of Ron.
I’m not going to say exactly where my new apartment is (I don’t want any unwelcome visitors), but I will say that it’s within five minutes of the following things: 1) The Firm; and 2) My Favorite Bar. This works out well for me, because there’s nothing I like less than commuting (except maybe olives), and now I won't really have to. The apartment itself is pretty small, but I figure that, since I'm "happily single," I don't really need a ton of room. And my thought process with regard to living quarters has always been: Bigger = More to Clean.
I’ll definitely post a couple of pictures, once I get moved in and settled, and in the meantime, I'll be moving in on September 1st, so if anyone wants to come over for Cocktail Hour on the Lanai, just let me know!
I hope that came off as facetious.
Even though I’ve only been there for two days, I’m really enjoying my job so far. It entails a lot of writing (which…clearly…I don’t mind), and this means that my day goes by really fast. I don’t think people realize how quickly times flies when you’re writing, because not a lot of people write all that much, but when I'm writing (or "composing," as Blogger calls it), three hours feels like thirty minutes. On Monday I spent a couple of hours with the Firm Administrator, who’s in charge of personnel-type stuff, and he went through all of my insurance options with me. My favorite part of that whole day was the following exchange, the purpose of which was to determine my premiums, not to “get personal.”
F.A.: You don’t have any children, do you?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Are you married?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Planning to get married soon?
Candy: Nope.
F.A.: Happily single?
Candy: Yep.
F.A.: (laughing) Good for you!
Clearly, Firm Administrator is a man.
I also think that I’m really going to like working there because of the hours. Granted, it sucks to have to be at work at 8:15 every day, but when 5:15 rolls around, I am DONE. (Unless I plan on trying to make partner, and then I'll be done around 7:15.) Never again will I be spending my nights doing law school homework, tutoring high-schoolers for the ACT and SAT, or working at the law library. My nights are finally ALL MINE. I might even start going to the gym (although probably not).
My other Big News is that I have found an APARTMENT!!!! Yes, after three years of living with Philly and Ron, I'm finally going back out on my own. It’s not that I don’t like living with P and R (they're much easier to live with than most parents), but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I just really want my own "space." Also, I feel that my belongings will be much safer the further they are from poor Ron, who, bless his heart, breaks everything he touches. Example: While sitting in the tub a couple of weeks ago, I glanced over at the ceramic box sitting on the back of my toilet, which I keep cotton balls in (in the box, not in the toilet). The lid of this box (did I mention it’s ceramic?) has a sort of “figurine” on it (also ceramic), consisting of a girl in a bathing suit and matching cap, sitting with her legs stretched out. So, I glanced over at this box, and lo and behold, the girl in a bathing suit no longer has a head. Just one item on the unending list of Casualties of Ron.
I’m not going to say exactly where my new apartment is (I don’t want any unwelcome visitors), but I will say that it’s within five minutes of the following things: 1) The Firm; and 2) My Favorite Bar. This works out well for me, because there’s nothing I like less than commuting (except maybe olives), and now I won't really have to. The apartment itself is pretty small, but I figure that, since I'm "happily single," I don't really need a ton of room. And my thought process with regard to living quarters has always been: Bigger = More to Clean.
I’ll definitely post a couple of pictures, once I get moved in and settled, and in the meantime, I'll be moving in on September 1st, so if anyone wants to come over for Cocktail Hour on the Lanai, just let me know!
Monday, August 20, 2007
Overheard at Wild Wing Cafe
Lady sitting next to me at the bar, talking on her cell phone:
"Just because your brother mooches off you don't mean I want to mooch off you. I just want to sleep with you!"
(Love the grammar.)
Bartender, to me, when I asked for a second Bay Breeze:
"Do you want your drunk rocks?"
I had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently, he wanted to know whether I wanted to use the same ice cubes (from my first Bay Breeze), because they "were already soaked in vodka." Geez, dude, can we say a-l-c-o-h-o-l-i-c?
"Just because your brother mooches off you don't mean I want to mooch off you. I just want to sleep with you!"
(Love the grammar.)
Bartender, to me, when I asked for a second Bay Breeze:
"Do you want your drunk rocks?"
I had no idea what he was talking about. Apparently, he wanted to know whether I wanted to use the same ice cubes (from my first Bay Breeze), because they "were already soaked in vodka." Geez, dude, can we say a-l-c-o-h-o-l-i-c?
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Magnificent Maggi
I just got some really sad news from my dad. My grandma, who is one of the most AMAZING women I have ever known, is in the hospital (she lives in California), and the doctors just told my family that she's not going to make it through the night. They've decided to take her off the ventilator she's been on for the past two days. I am so sad, especially for my dad, because I know how close he and Grandma have always been. The world is going to be losing a truly wonderful person.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
The "Real" Bar Examination
The Best Bars in Knoxville (in my humble opinion):
Name: Toddy's Back Door Tavern
Clientele: A combination of College Kids, Kids-Who-Wish-They-Were-Still-in-College, Young (and Not-So-Young) Professionals, and (my favorite) The Regulars. The Regulars are a group of about fifteen guys (there may be one girl, but it's mostly guys), ranging in age from mid-twenties to mid-sixties, whom you can find at Toddy's pretty much any night of the week. I love these guys.
Why Good: It's familiar. No matter what night you go, you can expect to hear Don't Stop Believin' on the jukebox at least once, and you can expect to see the same seven or eight people playing darts. Also, the beer is cheap.
Drawbacks: It's familiar. No matter what night you go, you can expect to hear Don't Stop Believin' on the jukebox at least once, and you can expect to see the same seven or eight people playing darts. Also, they don't serve liquor (although you can bring your own).
Name: Wild Wing Cafe
Clientele: It's only been open for a few weeks, so I haven't seen many College Kids there yet. I have seen people ranging in age from twenty-something to seventy-something, and Frenchy claims that about half of the people there went to Farragut High School. Which isn't surprising, given its location.
Why Good: Without a doubt, this place has the best patio in Knoxville. And if you're a big fan of cover bands, they've had a different one every night I've been.
Drawbacks: I'm not sure how great this place will be when it gets cold. Perhaps they'll have heaters on the patio?
Name: Bailey's Sports Grille
Clientele: Lots of men. Few women.
Why Good: See above. Also, it's a veritable Adult Playground, with pool tables, dart boards (regular and electronic), ping pong, Golden Tee, and (semi-weekly) poker.
Drawbacks: The men you meet at the Adult Playground are probably still children.
Name: Sassy Ann's House of Blues
Clientele: Depends on the night, I suppose. I've seen College Kids there on Thursdays, and I'm guessing that the 4th and Gill Residents are there quite a bit, since it's in their 'hood.
Why Good: Knoxville's Best-Kept (Nightlife) Secret. I usually only go on Thursdays, when they have a DJ Dance Party (so. much. fun.), but they usually have live music on the other nights they're open (which I think is Wednesday-Saturday, but I'm not positive).
Drawbacks: It's free to get in on Thursdays, but you usually have to pay a cover when they have live music. I understand the reasoning behind that, but I just hate to pay a cover to get in anywhere in Knoxville.
The Most Overrated Bars in Knoxville (in my humble opinion):
Name: Downtown Grill & Brewery
Clientele: Young Professionals and College Kids.
Why Bad: I've asked several people which bar in Knoxville is the best place to meet twenty-somethings, and the answer is always "Downtown Grill." However, I rarely see any mingling there. Also, as Frenchy has pointed out, they usually have a band playing downstairs (on the weekends), which means that there's a cover charge. However, most of the clientele is upstairs, where you can't even hear the band that you just paid five dollars to see.
Redeeming Quality: Location, location, location. (It's within walking distance of Market Square and the Old City, so it's always a good Starter Bar.)
Name: Roosters Bar & Grill
Clientele: Bearden/Farragut High School Classes of 1985-2005.
Why Bad: Without a doubt, the most awkwardly set-up bar in Knoxville. Terrible feng shui.
Redeeming Quality: Hmmmm...they have a good jukebox?
Name: Hanna's Cafe in the Old City
Clientele: Twenty-somethings. Lots of girls out for their Bachelorette Parties.
Why Bad: This is a dance club (for those of you who don't know), which plays 80's music downstairs and hip-hop music upstairs. The average temperature inside this place is about 127 degrees. Upstairs is even hotter. Which means, if you plan on dancing, you should plan on looking like you just went through a car wash.
Redeeming Quality: You never have to worry about being the drunkest person at the party.
*This list is by no means exclusive, and I'm open to comments if you disagree or think I've left something out!
Name: Toddy's Back Door Tavern
Clientele: A combination of College Kids, Kids-Who-Wish-They-Were-Still-in-College, Young (and Not-So-Young) Professionals, and (my favorite) The Regulars. The Regulars are a group of about fifteen guys (there may be one girl, but it's mostly guys), ranging in age from mid-twenties to mid-sixties, whom you can find at Toddy's pretty much any night of the week. I love these guys.
Why Good: It's familiar. No matter what night you go, you can expect to hear Don't Stop Believin' on the jukebox at least once, and you can expect to see the same seven or eight people playing darts. Also, the beer is cheap.
Drawbacks: It's familiar. No matter what night you go, you can expect to hear Don't Stop Believin' on the jukebox at least once, and you can expect to see the same seven or eight people playing darts. Also, they don't serve liquor (although you can bring your own).
Name: Wild Wing Cafe
Clientele: It's only been open for a few weeks, so I haven't seen many College Kids there yet. I have seen people ranging in age from twenty-something to seventy-something, and Frenchy claims that about half of the people there went to Farragut High School. Which isn't surprising, given its location.
Why Good: Without a doubt, this place has the best patio in Knoxville. And if you're a big fan of cover bands, they've had a different one every night I've been.
Drawbacks: I'm not sure how great this place will be when it gets cold. Perhaps they'll have heaters on the patio?
Name: Bailey's Sports Grille
Clientele: Lots of men. Few women.
Why Good: See above. Also, it's a veritable Adult Playground, with pool tables, dart boards (regular and electronic), ping pong, Golden Tee, and (semi-weekly) poker.
Drawbacks: The men you meet at the Adult Playground are probably still children.
Name: Sassy Ann's House of Blues
Clientele: Depends on the night, I suppose. I've seen College Kids there on Thursdays, and I'm guessing that the 4th and Gill Residents are there quite a bit, since it's in their 'hood.
Why Good: Knoxville's Best-Kept (Nightlife) Secret. I usually only go on Thursdays, when they have a DJ Dance Party (so. much. fun.), but they usually have live music on the other nights they're open (which I think is Wednesday-Saturday, but I'm not positive).
Drawbacks: It's free to get in on Thursdays, but you usually have to pay a cover when they have live music. I understand the reasoning behind that, but I just hate to pay a cover to get in anywhere in Knoxville.
The Most Overrated Bars in Knoxville (in my humble opinion):
Name: Downtown Grill & Brewery
Clientele: Young Professionals and College Kids.
Why Bad: I've asked several people which bar in Knoxville is the best place to meet twenty-somethings, and the answer is always "Downtown Grill." However, I rarely see any mingling there. Also, as Frenchy has pointed out, they usually have a band playing downstairs (on the weekends), which means that there's a cover charge. However, most of the clientele is upstairs, where you can't even hear the band that you just paid five dollars to see.
Redeeming Quality: Location, location, location. (It's within walking distance of Market Square and the Old City, so it's always a good Starter Bar.)
Name: Roosters Bar & Grill
Clientele: Bearden/Farragut High School Classes of 1985-2005.
Why Bad: Without a doubt, the most awkwardly set-up bar in Knoxville. Terrible feng shui.
Redeeming Quality: Hmmmm...they have a good jukebox?
Name: Hanna's Cafe in the Old City
Clientele: Twenty-somethings. Lots of girls out for their Bachelorette Parties.
Why Bad: This is a dance club (for those of you who don't know), which plays 80's music downstairs and hip-hop music upstairs. The average temperature inside this place is about 127 degrees. Upstairs is even hotter. Which means, if you plan on dancing, you should plan on looking like you just went through a car wash.
Redeeming Quality: You never have to worry about being the drunkest person at the party.
*This list is by no means exclusive, and I'm open to comments if you disagree or think I've left something out!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Legally Brunette Plays Poker
Ron and Philly dragged me to Bailey's last night to play in the semi-weekly Texas Hold 'Em Tournament that they've been "regulars" in for the past several months. Well, really it was just Philly who dragged me to Bailey's; I don't think Ron cared whether I went or not. And before you go running to the popo to turn us in for gambling, I'd like to point out that there's no money involved in this (particular) tournament, so it's totally legal.
I was really dreading being "forced" to play last night, because, as I have mentioned before, I do not share Philly's and Ron's obsession with Texas Hold 'Em. As a matter of fact, I think Texas Hold 'Em tournaments are about as enjoyable as, oh, a trip to the dentist. However, Philly had assured me that the Bailey's Tournament is really "fun," and she thought I should play at least once, to see if I liked it.
And I did enjoy the Tournament, albeit not for the same reason that Philly and Ron do. For one thing, of the several dozen players who show up to play on Sunday and Tuesday nights, few are women. And of those few female players, not many are under forty years old. Even fewer of those under-forty women are single. On the other hand, there are many male players who are under forty years old and single. Now that is a reason to keep showing up.
Also, everyone at Bailey's just looooves Ron and Philly, and it was kind of entertaining to be popular, simply because I'm "Ron and Philly's girl." I didn't do so well in the tournament, but I did manage to stay in for about an hour and a half, just by rarely ever playing a hand. Before we arrived, Ron and Philly had thoroughly explained to me that my propensity for bluffing, while cute at home, would not get me very far at Bailey's. ("You ain't at Bailey's.") Because, with no money on the line, Philly explained, the players would not hesitate to call my "all in," and I would be mighty embarrassed when I had to turn over my 2-7. So, with this in mind, I resolved to model my play-style after the players on Poker After Dark (my favorite late-night show). Unfortunately, this didn't work out too well for me, as the best hand I had all night was an A-6.
Hopefully I'll have better luck next time.
Once I was out of the Tournament, I headed over to the bar (because Ron was still playing, and Philly was playing an after-tourney game of Let It Ride), where naturally I became involved in a conversation with a man who was more than twice my age. This seems to be happening to me a lot lately, and I don't really mind it much (talking to the older dudes, I mean), except that these Older Men always seem to think that I'd be interested in going out with them.
Take "Grandpa," for instance, the fifty-seven year old man who was sitting beside me at a bar on Saturday night. After listening in on my conversation with Frenchy for several minutes, he decided to strike one up himself. I, of course, didn't mind chatting with him...until he began telling me all about his "nasty" divorce. I really can't figure out why in the world Older Men think I want to hear about their divorces. Or, their "awful" divorce attorneys. ("Whoa buddy, that might be me one day"...and I'm referring to a divorce attorney, not an ex-wife...although either is possible.) Next, Grandpa began Dropping Hints, such as "Well, I only date much younger women." Riiiiight. I'm sure the twenty-one year olds just love your gray 'stache. After listening to about as much of his B.S. as I could stand, I informed Grandpa that I thought it was "really effing weird" that he was hitting on me, someone who is more than thirty years younger than him.
After that comment, I'm sure I was right up there with his ex-wife on his List of Hellacious Bitches.
Thankfully, my "mature" friend at the bar last night didn't appear to be hitting on me, just engaging in some casual conversation. Although, as soon as I told him my (soon-to-be) profession, I did have to endure the obligatory "My Divorce Attorney Sucks" conversation. I guess I should probably get used to that.
I was really dreading being "forced" to play last night, because, as I have mentioned before, I do not share Philly's and Ron's obsession with Texas Hold 'Em. As a matter of fact, I think Texas Hold 'Em tournaments are about as enjoyable as, oh, a trip to the dentist. However, Philly had assured me that the Bailey's Tournament is really "fun," and she thought I should play at least once, to see if I liked it.
And I did enjoy the Tournament, albeit not for the same reason that Philly and Ron do. For one thing, of the several dozen players who show up to play on Sunday and Tuesday nights, few are women. And of those few female players, not many are under forty years old. Even fewer of those under-forty women are single. On the other hand, there are many male players who are under forty years old and single. Now that is a reason to keep showing up.
Also, everyone at Bailey's just looooves Ron and Philly, and it was kind of entertaining to be popular, simply because I'm "Ron and Philly's girl." I didn't do so well in the tournament, but I did manage to stay in for about an hour and a half, just by rarely ever playing a hand. Before we arrived, Ron and Philly had thoroughly explained to me that my propensity for bluffing, while cute at home, would not get me very far at Bailey's. ("You ain't at Bailey's.") Because, with no money on the line, Philly explained, the players would not hesitate to call my "all in," and I would be mighty embarrassed when I had to turn over my 2-7. So, with this in mind, I resolved to model my play-style after the players on Poker After Dark (my favorite late-night show). Unfortunately, this didn't work out too well for me, as the best hand I had all night was an A-6.
Hopefully I'll have better luck next time.
Once I was out of the Tournament, I headed over to the bar (because Ron was still playing, and Philly was playing an after-tourney game of Let It Ride), where naturally I became involved in a conversation with a man who was more than twice my age. This seems to be happening to me a lot lately, and I don't really mind it much (talking to the older dudes, I mean), except that these Older Men always seem to think that I'd be interested in going out with them.
Take "Grandpa," for instance, the fifty-seven year old man who was sitting beside me at a bar on Saturday night. After listening in on my conversation with Frenchy for several minutes, he decided to strike one up himself. I, of course, didn't mind chatting with him...until he began telling me all about his "nasty" divorce. I really can't figure out why in the world Older Men think I want to hear about their divorces. Or, their "awful" divorce attorneys. ("Whoa buddy, that might be me one day"...and I'm referring to a divorce attorney, not an ex-wife...although either is possible.) Next, Grandpa began Dropping Hints, such as "Well, I only date much younger women." Riiiiight. I'm sure the twenty-one year olds just love your gray 'stache. After listening to about as much of his B.S. as I could stand, I informed Grandpa that I thought it was "really effing weird" that he was hitting on me, someone who is more than thirty years younger than him.
After that comment, I'm sure I was right up there with his ex-wife on his List of Hellacious Bitches.
Thankfully, my "mature" friend at the bar last night didn't appear to be hitting on me, just engaging in some casual conversation. Although, as soon as I told him my (soon-to-be) profession, I did have to endure the obligatory "My Divorce Attorney Sucks" conversation. I guess I should probably get used to that.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Dude, You Just Made Me More Right Than I Already Was.
Instant Message from Charlie Brown in response to my blog:
[Wing Man] just told me he read the blog, and it pissed him off. I'm not mad over it, but I think it shows that you have some growing up to do. As nice as I can say it, I thought you were cool, and I kind of wanted to be friends. I never wanted to go to the next level with you, (maybe perhaps, maybe, that's why I still talked to other girls around you?). But when I have had a few drinks, everyone seems cool, and you were there. Guess I am shady, but you should see what everyone is saying about you now. I have told everyone to go read your blog. The nicest way to put most guys' and girls' reactions is the word "loon." But like I said, I like the positive/negative attention. Gives me power.
From one loon to another: You creep me out, man.
[Wing Man] just told me he read the blog, and it pissed him off. I'm not mad over it, but I think it shows that you have some growing up to do. As nice as I can say it, I thought you were cool, and I kind of wanted to be friends. I never wanted to go to the next level with you, (maybe perhaps, maybe, that's why I still talked to other girls around you?). But when I have had a few drinks, everyone seems cool, and you were there. Guess I am shady, but you should see what everyone is saying about you now. I have told everyone to go read your blog. The nicest way to put most guys' and girls' reactions is the word "loon." But like I said, I like the positive/negative attention. Gives me power.
From one loon to another: You creep me out, man.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Quite Possibly the Nerdiest Conversation Ever
Excerpt from my conversation with "A.C." (one of my favorite Law School Dudes) at Mellow Mushroom the other night:
AC: "So, I was reading this article in the A.B.A. Journal the other day...."
Candy: "Oh, the one about doing away with billable hours? I read that too!"
AC: "No, although that was a good one. Love Scott Turow. But this article was actually on page thirty, and it was about the times that people start their work days."
Candy: "How the hell do you remember what page it was on?"
AC: "Because the billable hours article was on page thirty-two, and this one was right before it. And, I'm really good with numbers."
Candy: "Well, then it certainly makes sense that you want to be a lawyer."
AC: "So, I was reading this article in the A.B.A. Journal the other day...."
Candy: "Oh, the one about doing away with billable hours? I read that too!"
AC: "No, although that was a good one. Love Scott Turow. But this article was actually on page thirty, and it was about the times that people start their work days."
Candy: "How the hell do you remember what page it was on?"
AC: "Because the billable hours article was on page thirty-two, and this one was right before it. And, I'm really good with numbers."
Candy: "Well, then it certainly makes sense that you want to be a lawyer."
My Life as a Twenty-Something Bachelorette
I've been doing a little dating lately, but I haven't been blogging about it much, because it seems like every guy I go out with (even just one time) ends up reading my blog. Which is actually kind of cool, I think, but it does limit the topics I can write about. But I feel like one of my recent "situations" is worth sharing. (Hehe, I just accidentally typed "sharting" instead of "sharing," and almost didn't catch my mistake...that would've been an embarrassing typo!)
So, several weeks ago I met "Charlie Brown" through a friend. He was good-looking (okay, hot) and had a good personality...so I was pretty excited when he added me as a friend on Facebook and sent me an Instant Message the next day. (And, yes, I realize how mature that sounds.) Well, after our brief IM conversation, I never heard from him again, which was a little disappointing (but not really). I saw Charlie out again several weeks later, and he promptly began IMing me again, asking me to fix him up with one of my friends. Riiiiight...'cause that's what I'm here for.
I then saw him out again, and in our drunken conversation, it came out that the only reason he hadn't asked me out from the get-go was that he (vaguely) knew one of my ex-boyfriends and didn't feel it would be appropriate to go out with me. After I assured him that it would not be inappropriate (this was my ex from way-back-when, not the most recent one), we made tentative plans to go out on a date. Actually, the conversation went something like this:
Charlie: "So, I'd like to take you out this week...what night is good for you? I'm free every night but Monday."
Candy: "Well, Wednesday would be good."
Charlie: "Okay, that's actually best for me, because I'll be busy working out on Tuesday and Thursday."
Candy: (with a confused look) "Why didn't you just ask me out for Wednesday then?"
So, the Big Date was set for Wednesday (which would have been two days ago). But, lo and behold, I get a message from Charlie on Monday, asking if we can go out on Thursday, instead of Wednesday. Since I'm not working right now (and have no real responsibilities), this was fine with me. On Wednesday, however, Charlie and I did actually end up hanging out, albeit not on an actual "date." I had made plans to go to Trivia at Mellow Mushroom with my friend (the same one whom I had met Charlie Brown through), and Charlie was there as well. After Trivia, a group of us decided to go to a bar for a couple of drinks. I was standing with Charlie and his Wing Man (not the friend I met him through), and the conversation was going something like this:
Wing Man: "God, that girl is the hottest girl in the bar." (In reference to Barbie doll sitting at the bar.)
Charlie: "Yeah, that's the kind of girl you want to make babies with."
Candy: (in my head) "Wow, this guy really knows how to romance a girl."
The conversation continued, with Charlie and Wing Man making many more references to the various hotness levels of the girls in the bar. After taking as much Guy Talk as I could, I told the Boys that it was time for me to call it a night. Surprisingly, Charlie walked me to my car, which I thought was quite uncharacteristic. As of then, we were "on" for dinner on Thursday night.
On Thursday morning, I got a message from Charlie that said this:
I feel like crap today. Wing Man and I were at the bar until one a.m. last night, and I can barely stay awake. Can we reschedule for Sunday?
I found a couple of things interesting about this message. First, I noticed that, although Charlie was still "willing" to take me out, he wasn't willing to give up one of his precious weekend nights. God forbid. Second, I noticed that, clearly this guy is not all about me, or he wouldn't be cancelling because he was "tired." Puh-lease.
So, my response to Charlie's message:
I think maybe it's not such a good idea for us to go out after all. I'm just really not cool with going out with a guy who would talk about how "hot" every girl in the bar is, right in front of me. To be honest, I think it's kind of disrespectful.
Of course, Charlie responded with, "Well, I just didn't think we were at that level yet." I responded, "Honey, I don't care if you'd just met me thirty seconds ago...you don't talk about how hot other girls are, in front of a girl that you have any hope of going out with."
I hope he learns his lesson and doesn't make the same mistake in the future.
As for me, I'm not too upset about it...because, as they say, there are other fish in the sea. (One in particular...and, no, my reference to the "ocean" is not unintentional.)
So, several weeks ago I met "Charlie Brown" through a friend. He was good-looking (okay, hot) and had a good personality...so I was pretty excited when he added me as a friend on Facebook and sent me an Instant Message the next day. (And, yes, I realize how mature that sounds.) Well, after our brief IM conversation, I never heard from him again, which was a little disappointing (but not really). I saw Charlie out again several weeks later, and he promptly began IMing me again, asking me to fix him up with one of my friends. Riiiiight...'cause that's what I'm here for.
I then saw him out again, and in our drunken conversation, it came out that the only reason he hadn't asked me out from the get-go was that he (vaguely) knew one of my ex-boyfriends and didn't feel it would be appropriate to go out with me. After I assured him that it would not be inappropriate (this was my ex from way-back-when, not the most recent one), we made tentative plans to go out on a date. Actually, the conversation went something like this:
Charlie: "So, I'd like to take you out this week...what night is good for you? I'm free every night but Monday."
Candy: "Well, Wednesday would be good."
Charlie: "Okay, that's actually best for me, because I'll be busy working out on Tuesday and Thursday."
Candy: (with a confused look) "Why didn't you just ask me out for Wednesday then?"
So, the Big Date was set for Wednesday (which would have been two days ago). But, lo and behold, I get a message from Charlie on Monday, asking if we can go out on Thursday, instead of Wednesday. Since I'm not working right now (and have no real responsibilities), this was fine with me. On Wednesday, however, Charlie and I did actually end up hanging out, albeit not on an actual "date." I had made plans to go to Trivia at Mellow Mushroom with my friend (the same one whom I had met Charlie Brown through), and Charlie was there as well. After Trivia, a group of us decided to go to a bar for a couple of drinks. I was standing with Charlie and his Wing Man (not the friend I met him through), and the conversation was going something like this:
Wing Man: "God, that girl is the hottest girl in the bar." (In reference to Barbie doll sitting at the bar.)
Charlie: "Yeah, that's the kind of girl you want to make babies with."
Candy: (in my head) "Wow, this guy really knows how to romance a girl."
The conversation continued, with Charlie and Wing Man making many more references to the various hotness levels of the girls in the bar. After taking as much Guy Talk as I could, I told the Boys that it was time for me to call it a night. Surprisingly, Charlie walked me to my car, which I thought was quite uncharacteristic. As of then, we were "on" for dinner on Thursday night.
On Thursday morning, I got a message from Charlie that said this:
I feel like crap today. Wing Man and I were at the bar until one a.m. last night, and I can barely stay awake. Can we reschedule for Sunday?
I found a couple of things interesting about this message. First, I noticed that, although Charlie was still "willing" to take me out, he wasn't willing to give up one of his precious weekend nights. God forbid. Second, I noticed that, clearly this guy is not all about me, or he wouldn't be cancelling because he was "tired." Puh-lease.
So, my response to Charlie's message:
I think maybe it's not such a good idea for us to go out after all. I'm just really not cool with going out with a guy who would talk about how "hot" every girl in the bar is, right in front of me. To be honest, I think it's kind of disrespectful.
Of course, Charlie responded with, "Well, I just didn't think we were at that level yet." I responded, "Honey, I don't care if you'd just met me thirty seconds ago...you don't talk about how hot other girls are, in front of a girl that you have any hope of going out with."
I hope he learns his lesson and doesn't make the same mistake in the future.
As for me, I'm not too upset about it...because, as they say, there are other fish in the sea. (One in particular...and, no, my reference to the "ocean" is not unintentional.)
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Legally Brunette Goes to the Movie Theater
I had a strange experience tonight. I went by myself to see the Harry Potter movie (this isn't the strange part), which some people find a little odd, but I don't mind at all. (Odd that I go to the movies by myself, not that I went to see Harry Potter.) It just never seems like anyone I know wants to see the same movies that I want to see, so rather than dragging someone along and worrying that they'll be miserable the whole time, I just go alone.
Incidentally, this was the first time I had been to a "regular" movie theater (as opposed to the "dollar theater") in a really long time. The last time I went to see a movie, I'm pretty sure tickets were $7.00...so it was a bit of a surprise tonight when I had to pay $8.50. I was also surprised by the sheer number of commercials and previews that I had to sit through before the actual movie started. I went to see Mr. Brooks with Frenchy at the dollar theater last week (and that was the first time I'd been there in at least a year), and we saw maybe four previews. But tonight? No less than ten. Some of these movies weren't even coming out in the next year.
Naturally, as soon as I got home, I raced to my calendar and made Movie Plans for December '08. (Not really.) Ahh...December '08...by then, we'll have elected a new President!! At least I have that to look forward to....
But the "strange" part about tonight was that, when I got to the theater where Harry Potter was playing, I was the only person there. That's never happened to me before! At first, I have to admit, I was a little uncomfortable. I kept picturing some thug sneaking up and choking me from behind, and then dragging me out the emergency exit and putting me in his Volkswagen bus (I have an irrational fear of those), with no one ever knowing where poor Candy went. But after I got over that (little insignificant worry), I really enjoyed myself. I hadn't planned on getting any snacks when I arrived, but after Preview #7 (with no end in sight), I stepped out to the concession stand to get some popcorn. I knew I'd be able to chew as loudly as I wanted, and no one would complain. I sprawled myself across about three chairs (with one foot up on the seat in front of me...because, why not?), and I even responded to a couple of text messages that I received during the movie. It was a little (eight-dollar-and-fifty-cent) piece of heaven.
Incidentally, this was the first time I had been to a "regular" movie theater (as opposed to the "dollar theater") in a really long time. The last time I went to see a movie, I'm pretty sure tickets were $7.00...so it was a bit of a surprise tonight when I had to pay $8.50. I was also surprised by the sheer number of commercials and previews that I had to sit through before the actual movie started. I went to see Mr. Brooks with Frenchy at the dollar theater last week (and that was the first time I'd been there in at least a year), and we saw maybe four previews. But tonight? No less than ten. Some of these movies weren't even coming out in the next year.
Naturally, as soon as I got home, I raced to my calendar and made Movie Plans for December '08. (Not really.) Ahh...December '08...by then, we'll have elected a new President!! At least I have that to look forward to....
But the "strange" part about tonight was that, when I got to the theater where Harry Potter was playing, I was the only person there. That's never happened to me before! At first, I have to admit, I was a little uncomfortable. I kept picturing some thug sneaking up and choking me from behind, and then dragging me out the emergency exit and putting me in his Volkswagen bus (I have an irrational fear of those), with no one ever knowing where poor Candy went. But after I got over that (little insignificant worry), I really enjoyed myself. I hadn't planned on getting any snacks when I arrived, but after Preview #7 (with no end in sight), I stepped out to the concession stand to get some popcorn. I knew I'd be able to chew as loudly as I wanted, and no one would complain. I sprawled myself across about three chairs (with one foot up on the seat in front of me...because, why not?), and I even responded to a couple of text messages that I received during the movie. It was a little (eight-dollar-and-fifty-cent) piece of heaven.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Help Wanted
For Philly, one of the perks of working for the government (namely, the Knoxville Community and Neighborhood Services department) is that, once a year, she gets to spend a whole workday away from the office, at some type of "retreat." Usually, the purpose of these retreats is "team-building," which is kind of funny when you consider that none of Philly's job duties have anything to do with working on a team. Nevertheless, it's a day away from her desk.
Yesterday was one of Philly's Retreat Days, and this one was held at Cove Lake. Incidentally, I have heard of Cove Lake several times, but I've never actually seen this alleged "lake." Does it even really exist? And if so, where the hell is it?
As usual, the retreat attendees were split up into teams, and they spent several hours (in 100 degree heat) trying to accomplish various ("team-building") tasks. I know this took place outside, because when Philly got home, she was positively musky, bless her heart.
One of these tasks was a brainteaser of sorts, and although Philly's team supposedly solved it, Philly somehow missed out on the solution and asked me to figure it out when she got home. So far, I have been unsuccessful, and I would appreciate some help. Here's the brainteaser:
You have three containers: one holds eight gallons, one holds five gallons, and one holds three gallons. You have eight gallons of liquid (which are currently in the eight-gallon container) that you need to divide into two equal parts (four gallons each). The only way you can measure is to fill up one of the containers (i.e., you can't "almost" fill up the five-gallon container and call it "four gallons"...but you can fill up the three-gallon container and then pour it into the five-gallon container, knowing that the five-gallon container now holds three gallons). What is the quickest way to get two four-gallon parts?
If anyone knows the solution to this, I would love to know it. Apparently there was a situation like this in one of the Die Hard movies, but I'm way too lazy to go to the video store and then sit through an entire movie just to get my answer. I'd rather blog about it.
Yesterday was one of Philly's Retreat Days, and this one was held at Cove Lake. Incidentally, I have heard of Cove Lake several times, but I've never actually seen this alleged "lake." Does it even really exist? And if so, where the hell is it?
As usual, the retreat attendees were split up into teams, and they spent several hours (in 100 degree heat) trying to accomplish various ("team-building") tasks. I know this took place outside, because when Philly got home, she was positively musky, bless her heart.
One of these tasks was a brainteaser of sorts, and although Philly's team supposedly solved it, Philly somehow missed out on the solution and asked me to figure it out when she got home. So far, I have been unsuccessful, and I would appreciate some help. Here's the brainteaser:
You have three containers: one holds eight gallons, one holds five gallons, and one holds three gallons. You have eight gallons of liquid (which are currently in the eight-gallon container) that you need to divide into two equal parts (four gallons each). The only way you can measure is to fill up one of the containers (i.e., you can't "almost" fill up the five-gallon container and call it "four gallons"...but you can fill up the three-gallon container and then pour it into the five-gallon container, knowing that the five-gallon container now holds three gallons). What is the quickest way to get two four-gallon parts?
If anyone knows the solution to this, I would love to know it. Apparently there was a situation like this in one of the Die Hard movies, but I'm way too lazy to go to the video store and then sit through an entire movie just to get my answer. I'd rather blog about it.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Overheard in the Old City
Excerpt from a conversation I had with "Charlie Brown" at Hanna's on Saturday night:
Charlie: "I'm a Jeopardy champion. I've tried out twice."
Candy: "I'm not sure that makes you a champion...."
Charlie: "I'm a Jeopardy champion. I've tried out twice."
Candy: "I'm not sure that makes you a champion...."
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Priceless
So, Frenchy and I are at Wild Wing Cafe last night, and she's run into an old boyfriend from, like, ten years ago. They're all excited to see each other and "catch up," and because they're involved in such deep conversation, I'm left to talk to the ex's wing man, who is no less than forty-five years old. Wing Man is trying to impress me with all kinds of "facts." The conversation is going something like this:
Wing Man: "Did you know that Roane County has more unsolved murders than any place in the entire United States?"
Candy: (faking interest) "No, I didn't know that. I guess the murderers there must be really smart."
Wing Man: "Naw, the cops are just really stupid."
Candy: "Makes sense."
Wing Man: "And did you know that Roane County also has more Skoal dip users than any other place in the entire world?"
Candy: (with a straight face) "That's fascinating."
At some point, Frenchy leans over and tells me that her ex is leaving to go home and that she's going to "walk him out to his car." "Okay," I say, "I'll wait right here." As they're walking away, my conversation with Wing Man continues...
Wing Man: "You know, [ex] rode with me here tonight."
Candy: "That's funny, 'cause Frenchy rode with me."
Wing Man: "So whose car are they going to?"
Candy: "Beats the hell out of me."
A few minutes later, Frenchy comes walking back up and says, "Ugh, I'm so glad he's gone." (Apparently she wasn't quite as happy to see her ex as he was to see her.)
But Frenchy had spoken too quickly.
Shortly thereafter, a very sheepish-looking ex reappears and says to Wing Man, "Hey, can you give me a ride home?"
I'm still laughing.
Wing Man: "Did you know that Roane County has more unsolved murders than any place in the entire United States?"
Candy: (faking interest) "No, I didn't know that. I guess the murderers there must be really smart."
Wing Man: "Naw, the cops are just really stupid."
Candy: "Makes sense."
Wing Man: "And did you know that Roane County also has more Skoal dip users than any other place in the entire world?"
Candy: (with a straight face) "That's fascinating."
At some point, Frenchy leans over and tells me that her ex is leaving to go home and that she's going to "walk him out to his car." "Okay," I say, "I'll wait right here." As they're walking away, my conversation with Wing Man continues...
Wing Man: "You know, [ex] rode with me here tonight."
Candy: "That's funny, 'cause Frenchy rode with me."
Wing Man: "So whose car are they going to?"
Candy: "Beats the hell out of me."
A few minutes later, Frenchy comes walking back up and says, "Ugh, I'm so glad he's gone." (Apparently she wasn't quite as happy to see her ex as he was to see her.)
But Frenchy had spoken too quickly.
Shortly thereafter, a very sheepish-looking ex reappears and says to Wing Man, "Hey, can you give me a ride home?"
I'm still laughing.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Little Known Facts
A couple months ago, I wrote a post titled "Things You Might Not Know About Candy." I'm sure everyone found it fascinating. In case that wasn't enough, here are a few more Little Known Facts.
1. I never went to a high school prom. When I mentioned this to one of my ex-boyfriends, Bud Heavy, his response was, "That explains everything." Bud's opinion aside, I don't think that my prom non-experience scarred me too badly. And, in case you're wondering what I did on Prom Night: I stayed home and studied for an AP European History test. If only I had had this kind of dedication while I was studying for the Bar Exam.
2. I very rarely answer my phone. Which is apparently quite annoying to...well...everyone. I think guys especially find it infuriating. (Hence the text message I received the other night that said, IN ALL CAPS, "WHY DON'T YOU CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE FREE...IF YOU WISH." I told the sender that there was no need to yell.) What I find interesting is that, despite the fact that I never answer my phone, I still manage to talk for an average of 100 minutes a day, much to my father's chagrin (he still pays my cell phone bill...although not for long, now that I'll be entering the Real World).
3. Also on the topic of Phone Behavior: You can always tell when I'm ready to get off the phone because I say, "Alright, well..." (followed by an awkward silence). I don't even realize I'm doing it, but several ex-boyfriends (and one mom) have given me hell for it.
4. I cannot stand it when people "channel surf." I love to watch TV (and I hate it when people say they "never watch television," like it makes them so much cooler or something), but I only watch when there's something in particular that I want to see (like, for instance, Dog the Bounty Hunter). Flipping through the channels for hours on end seems like a complete waste of time to me.
5. I have been known to fall for a guy simply because he wore Acqua di Gio cologne. I don't know why, but that stuff is like a frigging aphrodisiac to me. Sadly, the scent alone has caused me to overlook some pretty major things, like...oh....the fact that the guy I was seeing was a convicted felon. Philly was so proud.
6. I have freckles in the oddest places. These include: a freckle on the palm of my hand (which sometimes gets mistaken for chocolate); a freckle on the corner of my eye (which sometimes gets mistaken for one of those "eye boogers" you have when you wake up); and a freckle on my hairline (which sometimes gets mistaken for a tick).
7. Pretty much my all-time favorite thing to eat is Nachos Bell Grande from Taco Bell. Classy, huh. Unfortunately, I've recently had to cut down on my N.B.G. consumption, after discovering that one serving contains more calories than I should have in an entire day. But damn those things are tasty, even if they do have rat droppings (or dog meat...or whatever other horrible substance you've heard rumors about) in them.
8. When I was eight years old I asked my dad to buy me a subscription to Seventeen magazine for my birthday. And, of course, he did (I grew up with the best dad in the world). This magazine was my Bible for the next nine years, and it was a sad day when I turned eighteen and had to cancel my subscription (because I felt "too old" for it). Truth be told, I still buy an issue every few months, just for old time's sake.
9. Although I plan to be an attorney for several years, my dream is to be able to quit practicing law someday and write a novel or a screenplay. I'd also love to write a column for a newspaper, although, with my views, it'd probably have to be an alternative one!
Well, there ya have it. A few more tidbits about your favorite blogger. I'll be out this weekend with my girl Frenchy, so hopefully I'll have some good stories to share soon!
1. I never went to a high school prom. When I mentioned this to one of my ex-boyfriends, Bud Heavy, his response was, "That explains everything." Bud's opinion aside, I don't think that my prom non-experience scarred me too badly. And, in case you're wondering what I did on Prom Night: I stayed home and studied for an AP European History test. If only I had had this kind of dedication while I was studying for the Bar Exam.
2. I very rarely answer my phone. Which is apparently quite annoying to...well...everyone. I think guys especially find it infuriating. (Hence the text message I received the other night that said, IN ALL CAPS, "WHY DON'T YOU CALL ME WHEN YOU'RE FREE...IF YOU WISH." I told the sender that there was no need to yell.) What I find interesting is that, despite the fact that I never answer my phone, I still manage to talk for an average of 100 minutes a day, much to my father's chagrin (he still pays my cell phone bill...although not for long, now that I'll be entering the Real World).
3. Also on the topic of Phone Behavior: You can always tell when I'm ready to get off the phone because I say, "Alright, well..." (followed by an awkward silence). I don't even realize I'm doing it, but several ex-boyfriends (and one mom) have given me hell for it.
4. I cannot stand it when people "channel surf." I love to watch TV (and I hate it when people say they "never watch television," like it makes them so much cooler or something), but I only watch when there's something in particular that I want to see (like, for instance, Dog the Bounty Hunter). Flipping through the channels for hours on end seems like a complete waste of time to me.
5. I have been known to fall for a guy simply because he wore Acqua di Gio cologne. I don't know why, but that stuff is like a frigging aphrodisiac to me. Sadly, the scent alone has caused me to overlook some pretty major things, like...oh....the fact that the guy I was seeing was a convicted felon. Philly was so proud.
6. I have freckles in the oddest places. These include: a freckle on the palm of my hand (which sometimes gets mistaken for chocolate); a freckle on the corner of my eye (which sometimes gets mistaken for one of those "eye boogers" you have when you wake up); and a freckle on my hairline (which sometimes gets mistaken for a tick).
7. Pretty much my all-time favorite thing to eat is Nachos Bell Grande from Taco Bell. Classy, huh. Unfortunately, I've recently had to cut down on my N.B.G. consumption, after discovering that one serving contains more calories than I should have in an entire day. But damn those things are tasty, even if they do have rat droppings (or dog meat...or whatever other horrible substance you've heard rumors about) in them.
8. When I was eight years old I asked my dad to buy me a subscription to Seventeen magazine for my birthday. And, of course, he did (I grew up with the best dad in the world). This magazine was my Bible for the next nine years, and it was a sad day when I turned eighteen and had to cancel my subscription (because I felt "too old" for it). Truth be told, I still buy an issue every few months, just for old time's sake.
9. Although I plan to be an attorney for several years, my dream is to be able to quit practicing law someday and write a novel or a screenplay. I'd also love to write a column for a newspaper, although, with my views, it'd probably have to be an alternative one!
Well, there ya have it. A few more tidbits about your favorite blogger. I'll be out this weekend with my girl Frenchy, so hopefully I'll have some good stories to share soon!
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