What am I doing in Beaufort...

When I clearly belong in SoHo?
OK, not really. But since I haven't lived in NY state in 10 years (I can't believe it's been that long!!) and never lived in the city, the question "Where should your inner New Yorker live?" caught my eye.

You Belong in Soho

Although you may not be a professional artist, you do dabble in one form of art or another.
And you enjoy indie culture of all kinds - from little boutiques to art house films.

Does anyone belong there with me?

Trash talk that really stinks

OK, people, here are the rules:

Rule #1: You're allowed to be a fan of any college football team you like.
You don't have to be a graduate of that school to have an affinity for a certain team. I watched the BC-NC State game last night rooting for BC like nobody's business, even though I don't know anybody who's ever graduated from there, and I've never even been on the campus myself.

Rule #2: You're allowed to talk smack on a Monday morning at the office after the team you love has trounced mine.
I love college football, and though I'm not much of a smack-talker, I can respect those who hype their team before and after a big game when I see them at the office or out in the big wide world. Loyalty is key in my book when it comes to your team -- win or lose.

Rule #3: You are Not allowed to call my house right after Penn State loses and trash talk unless YOU ACTUALLY ATTENDED THAT UNIVERSITY, OR ARE A FACULTY MEMBER OF SAID SCHOOL.
If I have to listen to one more voicemail from a "diehard Ohio State fan" (where were you last year, losers?!) who actually attended Bowling Green (who, by the way, got their asses kicked by Kent State yesterday, 38-3), I'm going to throw my cell phone into the ocean. The dude who called me last night is not a close friend, he is merely a former Ohio resident who unfortunately has access to my phone number because I work in a newsroom and therefore have to have my cell number listed on an 'emergency' directory for the whole newsroom to see. The No. 1 team beating the No. 24 team is not, in my estimation, an emergency.
It happened after the Notre Dame game, too. Got a call from a guy who hasn't even worked at the paper for more than a year. He lives in Phoenix and somehow still has my cell phone number. Oh, and did I mention that he's from Kansas, where he went to school, and for all I know he's never been to Notre Dame?
Do you see what I'm saying here? It's not sour grapes. I can take the best trash-talkin' "You need to tell your quarterback that he's supposed to be throwing the ball to the guys in the WHITE jerseys" comments on Monday morning. But if you're calling my house 2 minutes after the game ends, you'd better a) be a friend of mine, not just some dude who I occasionally say hi to at the water cooler, and b) have spent four-plus years of your life and thousands of dollars in Columbus, have intimate knowledge of The Horseshoe, and be a member of the OSU Alumni Association.

I'm just sayin'. I could see that kind of reaction to PSU losing if I was the type who walked around the office all day beating my chest and proclaiming Nittany Lions' world domination. But I'm not. Not even close. I didn't say one word about either of those games beforehand to anyone besides fellow Penn Staters.
So please. For the love of football. Show some respect, and some restraint. You wannabes are really getting on my nerves.

The hours suck, but the perks are nice

Like I said before, being a journalist definitely has its privileges. On Friday I was treated to a bird's eye view of the Lowcountry on this here little Civil Air Patrol plane. It was awesome. My camera crapped out on me after I took one picture, but one of the two dudes I was flying with told me he had a camera in his car at a neighboring airport. So we departed from our scheduled flight plan and headed to Beaufort's tiny airport (lovingly called Frogmore International) so that I could spend the next hour or so capturing the experience on film. The guys were great — the pilot even let me fly (and help land!) the plane, as I was seated in what is traditionally the pilot's seat — and the experience sure made all these 11-hour work days seem a bit more worthwhile.

The pilot said when he's not flying for the Civil Air Patrol, he takes another little biplane up to practice his air stunts. I'm so taking him up on his invitation to join him.......

(The first aerial view is of downtown Beaufort; the second is of Hilton Head Island's "famous" Harbour Town lighthouse.)


We're in

The move was excruciating, but we're officially in the new house! I haven't taken any pictures yet but I will as soon as we unpack some of the crap that we carted from one closet to another one across town.

Being a homeowner is strange. Overnight, I became disturbingly preoccupied with preventing anything from scratching the floors or staining the carpets. It's like an obsession. I've never been anal about such things. I'm not sure I like myself as a homeowner. But I do love this house.

I must say, though, that the best part so far (and this is sad, given my monthly mortgage payment) is that we got Dish Network satellite TV and we now have the NFL NETWORK! Football, 24/7. It's outrageously awesome. Combine that with the start of the college football season (Let's Go State!), and you can understand why I'm still living out of boxes. Who has time to unpack?!