Doing things correctly

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Image courtesy of Vegan Feast Catering. Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

There are some moments where, when you find yourself in the middle of them, you think: “I am doing things correctly.” Saturday night, as I sat down at a barstool with a gin and tonic in one hand and a Krispy Kreme donut in the other, I had one of those moments.

When folks talk about college as the best years of their lives, I am suspicious, because I don’t know about y’all but my college years never once paired glazed donut and gin, so, point and match to adulthood.

The glazed donut and gin combo happened early in the evening of the end-of-season party for the theatre. The night continued to live up to its promise, because alcohol and dancing and people who have a vested professional interest in other humans paying attention to them for being funny is a recipe for a grand ol’ time, particularly when the DJ is playing “Everybody” and folks are making a Really Concerted Effort to creep on the “am I sexual?” lyric. Continue reading

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Small Town Summer

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Image courtesy of Rysac1. Licensed under CC BY 2.0.

This weekend was a nice reminder that–no matter how far away you move from your parents’ house–Atlanta will always be a little bit of a small town.

It started with a party invite. A coworker of mine was having a birthday party at which he was going to have a rented inflatable slip and slide, which–of course–meant that I RSVP’d yes. (Also may have done a small “huzzah, work socialization!” dance. As you do.)

I secured the cooperation of a friend to attend with me and facilitate small talk, as a) friends allow you to beat a hasty exit if needed, and b) she can charm the pants off of anyone, and is as a result a fabulous party co-attendee.

Armed with the address and our smart phones, we headed off Saturday afternoon. Having glanced at the directions earlier in the day, I had assumed that the place was near our workplace, west of me. It was not. In fact, finding it involved driving through West Atlanta, past Bankhead, and into quasi-wilderness that looked more at home on the highway than the Atlanta city limits. We passed three cemeteries before we passed a school. After the school, we passed a crematory.

It was a little alarming.

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