Same day, different city

First of all, here's what it's like when your mom is around to get you through this "mean, cruel world": You're never alone unless you're in the shower. When you're getting ready for work, there is constant chiding you're going to be late, even though you've allotted yourself an hour to get the one or two miles the subway takes you. When you get off work late (and by late, I mean 7 p.m.), there are panicked phone calls, just checking to see if you're alive. When you stay up past midnight, even though you've never gone to bed at midnight in five years of college and your body is still on an earlier time zone, she is there to remind you how tired you'll be in the morning. You don't have anything to discuss, because you're together constantly. And she doesn't cook for you. THAT'S life with your mother.

Day One
Questions about farms: 1
Questions about Kansas basketball: a gillion. This guy Justin goes to Brown, and he just can't get enough of hearing about life at KU, especially involving the basketball players. He thinks it must be so amazing to go to a school with such rich traditions.... Uh, dude? You go to Brown. It's probably one of the oldest schools in the U.S. But oh wait...you're right, it's no KU. (Luckily this dialogue all took place before the intern from UNC showed up.)
References to the Wizard of Oz: 0 (down about a gillion from last summer)

While I haven't been linked to anyone at the Inquirer yet, I'll try and get that rumored started soon. Liven things up. My first day at the paper was "training." By training they mean putting you in a room, scheduling people to come and talk to you, and no one showing up on time. But it's forgivable when you're the publisher.

We did go to the two daily meetings. The first one had to address blogs. Apparently a reporter or someone was blogging about work and their sources. Inquirer did not find this cool. Caused some sort of libel problem. Yikes. But in the 4 o'clock we got a copy of the daily budget. I look down — top right corner reads: Page 1 of 17. I had to laugh.

Now it's late and I have to go to bed. Or I might be tired in the morning.

NJS

"Boggling" after the first day of work

Today was my (and many of your) first day(s) of work! I got up at 6, but was nearly late for my 9 a.m. arrival. I shadowed a reporter named Dustin as he designed 1A, 2A and the local/state pages. Yes folks, reporters have to design. It just ain't right ... Anywho, it wasn't until the paper was sent at 1-ish that I found out which desk was mine and what beat I have: FORT RILEY/DEFENSE. Woo, the beat I wanted! Several males on staff suspect it's because I want to check out Army boys. Apparently I have some sort of country/Army boy hankering reputation among people who hardly know me! Whatever. Lies. I told Abby (Tillery) Young about the blog and she referred to it as "boggling." Too funny. Abby was a Kansan shooter and photog at The Daily Union now. She is the only shooter there and must put up with NON-PHOTOGS telling her what is a picture and how to do her job. It's frustrating, but we had a sweet moment today. She took a photo of a soldiers saluting. A soldier was in the foreground, out of focus and his arm, saluting, was framing another soldier in the distance. Tombstones and crosses are visible way in the distance. Dustin asked me which photo to use and I said he should use the framed one. He didn't think so and called Abby over. She said the same. No one else got the photo. I guess JC just ain't the place for thinkin' photos.

So that's all for now. Hooray for useless posts! Oh, and by the way, someone having something to do with five hours is in JC. Sweet, sweet Jesus!

AKS

Well, I thought it was about time.
I'm not ashamed to admit I've read every blog, that the second AKS sent us the blogger email however many Saturdays ago, I clicked to the site to lap up all the goings-on from Kansan folk. And since I've been biding my time. Today, trodding up to the newsroom to do a final desk-clear, I figured was as good a time as any.
And while I scrubbed the UDK-grime from the desk that will inevitably be re-grimed in a few days times, I discovered thus:
* The Post-it with "Send AKS to George Strait" that once stuck to the "Schooner Fund" pig
* My Vaupelesque to-do list for San Francisco. Included, "1)Make more corrections to Style Guide, 2) Google 'sanfran strip clubs' (for AKS) and 'sanfran dance clubs' (for Vaupel) 3) stay up all night." one of those proved to be a very, very big mistake.
* AKS's doodle/scratch paper with crystal-ball predictions on her future last name: "Amanda Kim Shaad, Amanda Kim Land, Amanda Kim Atkinson, Amanda Kim Rains ..."
* 27 packs of pepper, 11 packs of diijon mustard, at least 6 dozen napkins and two forks. (One with the prongs snapped off.) Thank you, Underground.
* Three-week old salsa from Carlos O'Kelly's. Disgusting to some, but oh-so-tasty when getting you through wretched Insider's Guide mornings ...
* Due dates for the 100 Years of the Kansan ... created in Feb., with run dates in May. Ah, dreams.
* A Steve Vockrodt "For Vaupel's Eyes Only" letter. In my bottom drawer.
* The last Kansan budget (which I'm keeping) and a crumbled Last Press Club poster (also keeping ...) Ah, sigh.

and yeah, i got a little sentimental pawing through all the budgets, papers, budget lines and scraps of reminders with things like "call so-and-so about the thingy-thing," which, i can only assume, didn't happen. but i still have my keys (not givin'em back just yet, Vaupel) and AKS, i DO plan to do steal that thing from vaupel and put it in that stuff we talked about. i'll post pictures. in the meantime, i'm fighting the woefully unemployed fight and looking for Quotes of the Day. And now that I've "broke the blog," i'll make sure to throw up bold flashing blog lines when i join the grad ranks and get a job. Until then,
TSIK (is that it, Kealing?): 1 hour
such a sucker.
~marissa

Mmmm, yes, Double It

I found that in a relatively new city, a good way to learn your way around is exploring by running. Unfortunately, I'm finding that while there are plenty of fine new housing developments in North Kansas City, they're taking the place of otherwise perfectly fine running trails.

I did manage to sustain another weird running-related "injury" when I mistakenly ran through a patch of poison ivy. By the time I got back to my apartment, my legs were covered in itchy bumps. It goes up there with the time I ran 16 miles in Colorado when it was -27 degrees without the wind chill. It left me with moderate frost bite in various parts of my body, some publishable, others not.

To add insult to injury, something caught fire when I was preheating my oven. Because I was in the shower trying to wash off what I could of the poison ivy residue, I came out to the tune of my fire alarm. I finally got things figured out (all while I wearing my birthday suit, one obvious benefit of living by yourself), but it meant that I was going to have to eat cereal for dinner once again until I get my stove figured out. I wish my mom lived with me so she could help me get by in this mean, cruel world.

Wait, what's that? I have to work tomorrow?

By the way, I sent out a mass email about this, but for those who didn't get it, my new phone number is 816-456-0882.

Give me a call sometime. Or don't.

P.S. — Kealing, never underestimate the appeal of articles about rural airport expansion. If Dolph wanted me to write 40 inches of notes for five straight days (40x5=200) about women's semi-pro golf, then there must be a rotary club or two in Texas that appreciated your work.

The wine will never defeat me.

At least not for long.
I just want you all to know that my experience at last night of production may have scarred me, but it did not kill me. I just successfully drank my first glass of wine since that night, and it even tasted good.
My first attempt before then was at Henry's, and I went back and traded it in for a club soda. A $6 club soda.
I may never drink Twin Fin chardonnay again, but there is hope for me yet.
Thank God.
Prada Paige

P.S. Just so no one gets confused, let's remember that the word "Jousers" was originally mine. Don't steal my thunder, AKS.

The streets of Philadelphia

Oh man. Really...oh. man. So I made my peace with Lawrence and left Friday afternoon. I went home to my parents' house to spend the evening with the fam. During dinner, my mom and I got into the BIGGEST fight since I was, you know, like 14, which culminated in my screaming that I was driving back to Lawrence and I'd fly to Philadelphia on Monday. My plans were thwarted by my mother, who decided to leave and take the car in which all my stuff was packed. This was about eight hours before we were scheduled to leave for a 25-hour trip across the country. She came back a little later, we both calmed down and decided we didn't hate each other.

But it's Monday now, and we made it safely to Philly last night. Without killing each other and with only a couple of minor detours. As for my new apartment...we got here in the dark, but I assured my mom that there were only bars on ALL the windows because "it's the city. That's what they do." I'm on the second floor, so my windows are bar-free! What I'm more concerned about in no A/C. I'm pretty sure the guy told me there was a window unit in the bedroom. Not so. It is not hot yet, but by July it will be blazing. Shit.

So I've sorta decided to quit smoking. I know, who am I now? I doubt this will last, namely because I don't really want to quit. But I always say I'm not addicted, because I don't think I crave cigs, but that doesn't sound like a disillusioned addict, right? Anyway, I was finally able to prove it to myself. I didn't even think about it on the trip out here. And if my mom doesn't drive me to smoke, I say I really am not addicted.

As for Paige's visit to Jon, all I have to say is WHAT??? My training last year didn't even allow visitors, let alone going out. And what is this cave business? On one Saturday we only had class for half the day, and the other half was our "afternoon of relaxation." They (our keepers) took us on a guided tour of the Liberty Bell and Penn's Landing. Whoo.

Tomorrow is my first day of work. I'm just sort of guessing about the bus route I take there, but I'm confident I'll figure it out. And, Burhenn, snap out of it! You are a hardass woman of news!

-Neeley

P.S. Never, EVER, ever step foot inside Philadelphia Wal-Mart. Not even to grab something quickly. First of all, there's no such thing as quickly, and second of all you will be scarred by its imprint on you until the end of time.

The first of what will certainly be many pointless posts...

Usually when I post something here, it has a specific purpose. For instance, to rant or rave about some mistake or accomplishment of the weekend. This time, however, I'm merely waxing nostalgic as all the old timers go off to start jobs at far away places. I've been able to talk to some of you and wish you luck in your new endeavors, but some of you I've missed. If we haven't spoken (which is all your fault, by the way) I wish you nothing but the best of luck. Keep all of us you've left behind in the know on how - and what - you're doing. Happy Memorial Day weekend everyone! Back to the salt mines for a lot of us tomorrow.

Austin has a city park where women walk around topless,
Kealing

PS: My first story is up. I'm not sure the method to their madness, but they don't post all print stories. I suppose it's to drive people to actually buy the paper. But between you, me and this keyboard, I don't think a story about a rural airport's expansion is going to drive sales.

Burhenn. Out.

I’m sitting in Panera drinking some pulpy OJ and waiting for my parents to get their shit together. They’re late. I woke up early so this wouldn’t happen. And now I’m sitting by myself in a place I’ve only been to about five times in my four-year history at KU. Figures.

Well, I’m leaving. I wish I could say I had the moment yesterday when I looked around at what I was leaving and realized how great it was. I guess I was luckier because I had about 100 of those moments. Here are a few:

1. Malcolm hugging me (while reeking of alcohol) like I was his last child to leave the nest.
2. Watching Malcolm and my dad lift a mammoth bookcase into my U-Haul. (Keep in mind that my dad is 6-foot-2 and Malcolm was drunk and short.)
3. Groaning with Steve after we ate waaaaay too much food at Milton’s.
4. Making Steve slap himself while he tried to nap off the extra food.
5. My parents pretty much moving me out of my apartment entirely on their own while Steve and I drove to Kansas City to get the truck.
6. Drinking wine and eating chicken alfredo at Mad Greek.
7. A dumb chick trying to tell me how to get to Ninth Street from the gas station at Ninth and Iowa streets.
8. My dad making a fool of himself in front of virtual strangers.
9. Hugs, kisses, holding hands, and more hugs from great people who want great things for me.

I realize those aren’t all very exciting or funny, but they make me laugh sitting here. I guess the best thing I realized yesterday was that as my favorite movie points out “Love actually is…all around.” I know that’s corny, but if I can love people as much as I love so many people in Lawrence, in Topeka, in Kansas City, etc., something great probably awaits me (all of us) wherever else I (we) go. And that’s reassuring.

So yes, I am sappy. (I know it because my head is throbbing from all the crying I did last night.) But I do love so many of you, and I will miss you terribly.

I’m off to Joplin now.

In the same style as the great Ryan Seacrest:

Burhenn. Out.

This post is by Paige.

AKS told me I should blog about the fact that I have two internships this summer. Now, I could put a positive spin on the whole affair by saying that I'll have clips from two places and make great contacts and have my hand in three different journalism sectors (newspaper, magazine and PR) but instead, I'll be negative as usual. My 16-year-old sister will be making more money than me this summer.
This fact alone sort of makes me want to die.
The good internship is at Kansas City Homes & Gardens magazine. I'm writing, copy editing, proofing, and doing other general intern bitchwork. But it's fabulous. I've been there three weeks now. Everyone is so nice, and I think the publisher, Keith, wants to marry me. He compliments me a lot. It's nice. And I get to wear cute, summery clothes. Yeah, I went there. I'll have bylines in four separate issues of the magazine, and that is just plain hot. Clips!
The eeeeeevil internship, the one where I'll be making all these fabulous contacts (sigh), is with the Universal Press Syndicate. They do something that has to do with comics. Foxtrot, Doonesbury, the Boondocks, etc. That's them. And I'm one of their PR interns. Ahhhh! I swear, it's only for the summer. The best (read: worst) part about it? I'm getting paid $500. For 120 hours of work.
?!?!?!?!
I'm being overly dramatic. The woman who hired me was so sweet that I couldn't turn it down, and it sounds as though I'd be immediately considered if a full-time editorial position opened up. But, ahh!
Ahh.

Anyway, news from around the KC area. This weekend I visited Jon in Columbia, where he's doing training for his Dow Jones internship (I'm not bitter. Really.) The dorms at Mizzou, though they have RETARDED names such as Discovery and Excellence, are sweet, and he got an iBook to use for the two weeks. Grr. We went out on the town and I have decided that Lawrence is far superior to Columbia any day. The next morning we met up with Rupal and Laura Francoviglia and went to hang out in a cave. And ate free barbecue. Not necessarily in that order. Then I went to St. Louis to visit Bob. He's also doing well. And is adorable as always. I'm biased.

So, this is what all my posts are like on my LiveJournal (LONG), but most of you won't be able to read the stuff I write unless you get an account. Unlike Ty, I friends-protect my entries because (gasp) I once caused drama at McCollum with the things I wrote. Ooops.

Anyway, that's the haps in the life of Prada Paige. Take care and call me if you are in KC. Because while Neeley is now away from all the people who "pretended to like her," she's one up on me. At least she left behind people she hung out with ... I'm such a recluse. I'm fun in the summer, though. Promise!

Love,
Paige

Lawrencians...Treasure what you have

I always like the smoking ban in Lawrence, but didn't realize how vital it was until the last few nights I've been out in Kansas City on the Plaza that I realized that I am probably the only person who doesn't smoke. Well, me and the hot girl I met tonight.

News from the Junk

OK, I think everyone needs to read this little piece of news and then feel sorry for Andy, Donovan and I. Mmmmmm, smell that? That's journalism!

In Spite of Sale, Rodehouse Develops Stategy To Improve Business
From the Daily Union, May 27, 2005
By Saju Ng'alla

Three prominent Junction City nightclubs are for sale.

The Rodehouse Bar & Grill, 741 W. Sixth St., is for sale, owner Richard Rexrode confirmed Thursday.

"But we are still open. We are not out of business by a long shot," Rexrode said. "The building is up for sale because if there is a buyer then it is time for me to move on."

Club Coyotes, 130 W. Seventh St., and Renegades, 713 S. Washington St., are also for sale, owner Phil Janke said Thursday.

Janke said his two clubs have been for sale for three months. He said both clubs are doing good business, but he said he wants to get out of the nightclub business to invest in housing developments in Colorado.

Rexrode said business has not been good in recent months. He said the income from his rental properties in Junction City are paying the club's bills.

"It is a shame this is happening because this is probably the No. 1 dance spot in Junction City," Rexrode said. "But it is has been an uphill climb for me. I have endured too much."

Even though the building may be for sale, Rexrode said he has not given up on saving his club from closing permanently.

"People in Junction City need somewhere to go where they could have a good time, and I want Rodehouse to be that place," Rexrode said.

Next month Rexrode plans to embark on an ambitious plan to draw more people into the club.

"I'm going to do things that have never been done in Junction City," Rexrode said.

He said he plans to have a Latin dance contest, open mic, live performances and even a poetry night.

"I also want to have Mardi Gras parties," Rexrode said. "The girl with most beads will get prizes worth up a $1,000."

Also, Rexrode is planning on having foam parties, where the dance floor will be filled with soup suds at least four feet deep, and wet t-shirt and bikini contests.

"The summer is the perfect time to do this," Rexrode said. "People can come and dance and cool down in the foam. It will be like a pool party."

Rexrode is also toying with converting Rodehouse into a Latino club.

"If I was to have Latino music five days a week, Rodehouse would be known as the Latino headquarters in the county," Rexrode said.

He is thinking of changing the club's name to reflect its new direction.

"I'm not giving up," Rexrode said. "It is going to take some hard work. I know some people are going to be against me. But I will not give up."

Rexrode's problems started in December 2003 when he was arrested and charged with promoting prostitution and permitting a public nuisance.

The arrests stemmed from a Junction City police undercover investigation. Two undercover officers said they observed dancers at the Rodehouse engaging in simulated sex acts for money.

Then residents living in the area began to complain to the police and the Junction City Commission about noise, fighting, gun shots and broken bottles and other trash in their yards.

The JCPD organized a neighborhood meeting in September with people who had concerns about the Rodehouse in the gymnasium of Lincoln Elementary. A little more than 20 people showed up at the meeting including City Commissioner Ken Talley, Police Chief Bob Story and Rexrode.

Linda Duncan of Chapman said she said she hopes Rexrode does not close the club.

"I think it is unfair how some people in this community are picking on this man because they do not like him or the people that come to the club," Duncan said. "It is mostly soldiers that come here -- soldiers of color."

Thomas Kidd of Fort Riley said he would rather go to the Rodehouse than to a strip bar.

"If Richard opens this place up it will blow up," Kidd said. "Tired of spending all of my money at the strip joints."

Saju Ng'alla can be reached at (785) 762-5000, Ext. 122, or sngalla@dailyu.com.

Look, Bechard's a PR person. EWWW!

Courtesy of www.kuathletics.com

By Ashley Bechard, 2005 Jayhawk Senior
May 24, 2005 - Day 1

With a 12-hour plane ride, two airline meals and a midnight movie under our belts, we finally made it to Rio. First lesson: do not be shocked if the food you are served on the plane is all the same texture and consistency.

Even though it's winter here, it was still incredibly humid when we got off the plane. We made a brief stop at our hotel (conveniently located across the street from the beach ... not bad) and dropped off our luggage.

On the way into the city we passed the slums, which were shocking, even though we were expecting to see them. The houses were stacked on top of each other, so close that they looked like one building. Jana explained that in America, rich people live in the hills, but in Brazil, the poor people live in the hills.

Our guides, Cristiano and Fabio, have the whole trip organized. For those of us who know Coach Posey, you can only imagine how she feels about this loss of control. We grabbed a quick lunch at a nearby hotel and then headed for some "sightseeing." They didn't mention that sightseeing meant cramming 30 people into a small glass bubble that is hung by a cable. We took two gondolas up to Sugar Loaf, an amazing mountain you can see from all over the city. Paula and I were about to hyperventilate, but the view was worth all the stress. You could see everything - the ocean, skyscrapers and islands.

On our way we saw a group of local school children. They started chanting, "Kansas, Kansas," and wanted to get their picture taken with us. Jana said these were some of the children who lived in the slums so the field trip was incredibly exciting for them. Finally, (after what seemed like hours but was really only about two minutes) we made it back down to safety.

Back on the bus, this time to the gym. We played a 17-year-old club team and ended up losing in five games. The ball is lighter here, and we had trouble keeping the serve in bounds.

We headed to dinner after the match, to a place Coach Jones described as "Brazilian bar-b-que." Hmmm ... I could be the pickiest eater on the team, but I was determined to try new things. The restaurant turned out to have an eclectic mix of food. There was a self-serve section with salad and sushi, and then waiters came around with spits of meat. You could pick and choose which meats you wanted and they would slice some off on your plate. (Ashley Michaels' comment about the process: "Dude, they could have a serious accident with those knives.") Waiters also filled the table with plates of French fries, onion rings, bread, fried bananas and mysterious fried things with cheese in the middle. I, as promised, tried almost all of the meats. The one thing I refused? Chicken hearts. No way. Not happening.

By the time the meal was finished, Ashley Michaels, Jill Dorsey and I realized that they told us everything was beef. Beef does not come in that many colors. All of us were exhausted (heck, I was exhausted and I didn't even play) so we headed back to the hotel to (finally) get some sleep in a real bed. Dorsey, Lindsey Morris and I were in a room together, but Michaels was feeling a little left out of the party so we ended up with quite the slumber party.

By the way, there were only three beds. Seeing Michaels and Dorsey try to share a cot (which, by the way, might break any minute) was definitely one of the funniest moments of the trip so far.

Once we finally got situated, none of us were tired, so we watched the only thing that was on TV in English ... From Justin to Kelly. For those of you not familiar with the not-exactly-blockbuster featuring the American Idol contestants, be glad. Be very glad.


May 25, 2005 - Day 2

Breakfast came at 8:30 this morning. We were supposed to go on a fabulous boat cruise and hang out at the beach, but there was somewhat of a torrential downpour happening outside.

We changed and headed to the mall. Shopping in Brazil is unbelievably different than in the US. (And trust me, I know about shopping in the U.S.) I managed to snag a pretty cool dress, but my mom was the real winner. Let's just say that dad will need to exchange some more currency tomorrow.

We had just enough time to get back to the hotel and grab game gear before heading out for the match. We played the same team at a different site and had a better outcome this time. We won in four games and played much better than yesterday.

Back onto the bus and this time it was pizza for dinner. Brazilian pizza, at least in Rio, is amazing. Seriously, New Yorkers have nothing on this stuff. We have two options for tonight's plan: Go to a club or stay at the hotel. Considering I am both old and boring, I opted for the latter. Please imagine Coach Posey in a techno club in Brazil trying to keep track of 10 college girls. The thought of this was almost enough to make me go.

Instead, four of the girls (Andi Rozum, Paula Caten, Morris and myself) and some of the staff headed down to the beach. We finally got to get our toes in the sand and feel the water. The water was surprising warm and we grabbed some ice cream treats and coconut water before heading back inside to the hotel.

There were some street vendors camped outside the front door of the hotel so Paula helped us bargain for some jewelry. They had caught dad earlier in the day and by the time we got back they had a personalized license plate waiting for him. Make sure you stop by the office when we get back, he's awfully proud of it. Tomorrow we get to watch the Brazilian national team train and play some beach doubles, so let's hope for sunshine!

Can't you hear Bechard saying all of this. -JK

Everyone who pretended to like me is gone

Well I guess it's my turn. Lawrence has been good to me, but it's time to check out. I've been packing for several days, and after living in the same apartment for three years, I've learned I've got too much stuff. Especially clothes. And from those clothes, enough spare buttons to open my own factory. I'm finding buttons everywhere. But beyond that, I've also learned:

1. College move-outs: An identity theft paradise. What didn't you know about me? Check my trash. It's probably there.
2. AKS says my mom is the nicest. Hah. Let me give you the update in three days, after I've spent 25 hours in the car with her.
3. Why is everybody at the Kansan taller than their dads? Not me personally, but at graduation, all the guys were taller than their dads.
4. When your parents are still at your graduation party and don't know you smoke, smoke out your bedroom window. You're moving out in a few days anyway, right? Who cares if it smells a little.

And here's what I have to look forward to this summer ... No friends. No dog. No complaining about it taking 10 min. to get to the 'burbs at 6th and Kasold. No school/Kansan to return to in the fall. No job as of September. But good crabs — the food. And all the water ice I can eat. More to come on water ice.

Time for me to throw the last few items in my car and take off for Sabetha for a night. I'll be keeping you posted on loneliness in the city.

Neeley

In a Jewish cemetery waiting for it to get dark...

As I sit here in Stauffer-Flint… officially graduated yet still waiting for final sizes for the DUMB insider’s guide… I thought I would share a little about phone etiquette.

If ever a friend calls you and mentions that she is in a Jewish cemetery in the middle of nowhere waiting for it to get dark, DO NOT ask if it’s cool to call her back in fifteen minutes. Obviously, this is unacceptable. I mention it only because I found myself in the position of the caller last night.

And while it may not seem readily obvious as to why I was hanging out in a Eudora cemetery waiting for it to get dark, I hope it’s clear that a reassuring voice on the other end of my cell phone would have been greatly appreciated. But after scrolling through a countless number of people in my phone book I was forced to stick it out alone and try to shoot the pictures of tombstones I had gone out there to get. I did get some company though when a car pulled over near the intersection of the two gravel roads and shone a blindingly bright spotlight on me. Luckily the car attached to the spotlight belonged to a policeman and not some country good ol’ boy. After explaining that I was with the Lawrence-Journal World and not some teenager out to vandalize century-old graves, he left without hassling me too much.

Now though, I’m in the Kansan newsroom and I’m forced to keep waiting for those damn final sizes that probably aren’t ever coming. Every minute that the Insider’s Guide steals from me is one more that I will miss doing sake-bombs. Damn you Insider’s Guide….

Courtney

You're single and you don't watch TV?!?

Again, sorry so long.

Days in JC: 3
References to my (lack of) marital status: 4

I am finally online in my new house! It took a while and some dough, but I now have access to important information like who won American Idol. That country gal totally won because she was prettier than that hairy dude.

Anywho, my days have been spent unpacking while listening to country music, gardening and defending my single-ness. While hanging laundry on my clothesline yesterday, my neighbor asked if my husband was in the military. Since I moved in there have been six different men (ranging from my dad to Donovan) at my house, none with any sort of regularity, and certainly none have been here long enough for them to marry me then join the Army.

A guy had to come to my house today to fix my cable connection so I could get Internet. This is after a complicated process where I bought nearly $200 of cable and Internet and then decided to cancel all the cable. I didn't have it for the last year in Lawrence, and felt better about myself. The four Cox Communications employees I have spoke with since canceling are shocked that I don't watch TV. Just Internet? Are you sure? This brings me back to cable guy. He's old enough to be the dad of someone enrolled in the police academy (he told me), old enough to build a 1929 stock car from the ground up (he told me) and old enough to have never worked on a Mac (he told me). He was "not trying to hit on" me, and asked if I knew my way around JC and why I'm living by myself. He told me about a race car driver his buddy just had breakfast with. That's the thing about JC, you pay for the service, but get conversation and SO ... MUCH ... MORE. Since sarcasm doesn't translate well on posts, please note that I am being sarcastic. Koreans DO like happy endings.

Other than the unbearable horror of me being unmarried and living alone, things are great. The house is sweet, the neighbors are friendly although there is a malt beverage bottle next to my newly-planted snapdragons (!). Never fear for this single gal though: I'm handy and I have a Waters TrueValue Hardware Preferred Customer Card.

AKS

So long, we wish you well

I too made my last stand in Lawrence recently. I wasn't very emotional about it though. It's not like I didn't know it was happening and then suddenly, BAM, I'm gone. But it did occur to me a few nights ago when I was getting my new apartment set up that I really would miss seeing a lot of people, and that to be perfectly honest, last weekend would be the last time I would see a few people.

But I am firmly established in my new place and anxiously awaiting my first day, which is this coming Tuesday. I'm looking forward to no longer covering sports and moving on to more pertinent issues in the world. I am also looking forward to getting my first paycheck to undo some of the damage that the whole moving process has done to my checking account (although winning $60 at the blackjack tables a few nights ago cushioned the blow). I was at the point yesterday at Best Buy when I was purchasing cables, a modem and cable splitters that I figured I was bleeding money so bad that purchasing a couple David Bowie CDs on top of it wouldn't be so bad. So that's what I did.

But as I was getting set up, I had a lot of time to reassemble some of the finer moments of Sunday night's drunken revelry. Moments that stand out the most:

1. AKS chucking me to the floor of Neely's apartment a la Pedro Martinez to Yankee's bench coach Don "The Gerbil" Zimmer. AKS, please explain.
2. Doing a Tough Man Shot (snort a line of salt up your nostril, take a shot of tequila, squirt lime juice in your eye) at the bar at Red Lyon while Marissa wussed out and watched.
3. Talking on the phone with my parents while completely drunk.
4. Starting drinking at 4:30 p.m. and holding strong through the night.
5. Playing bongos and the guitar with random girls in the middle of nowhere at 4 in the morning.

Yes, it was a fine time...

Last post as a Lawrencian

Sorry this is so long.

This is my last day in town. I'm leaving the big city for JC in a few minutes. The whole graduation thing was great. I commandeered Ross' camera, so I'll try to get him to post the shots on Ophoto soon.

My favorite part was meeting your parents:

Andy Hyland's dad does those same arm/shoulder kicks when he prepares to do something. I love Andy's dad and mom

Kurrrrtisssss does exist. I saw him. I touched him. Amanda said I could.

Steve's dad does look like Nick Nolte.

I know where Vaupel gets his Vaupelocity.

Neeley's mom is just the nicest person ever.

Seeing the Cross clan sitting in a row under the tent was glorious.

Michelle, I too am glad my dad wasn't the only dad wearing jeans.

Sunday was ridiculously hot. Synthetic black caps and gowns + sun-drenched stadium + Kansas afternoon = much pain. At least you didn't have to sit next to Courtney "I'm from fuckin' New Mexico, but I still complain about the Kansas heat" Kuhlen.

Anywho, the point of this post is to officially say goodbye to everyone and everything. I have enjoyed few things as much as I have enjoyed being forced to hang out with y'all at the Kansan. I genuinely like everyone ... 99.9 percent ... OK ... nearly everyone, I met here. Despite all this weepy, un-me-like emotion, I will miss everybody! Keep in touch. Y'all are welcome in my home, at any time, wherever I am. Except Bill. I hate Bill.

That being said, down to business: I am leavin' the big city for a place where I can see the horizon, the music is twangy and the folks are simple. I'm out. Take care. Lawrence ain't no place for a country girl.

AKS

Texan I am, but only for the summer

Well all, I'm officially set up in Austin, Texas, to intern with the Austin Business Journal. I drove down today and stepped out of my pleasantly air conditioned car into a 95 degree nightmare. With that atmosphere, I unpacked my life from the aforementioned car and settled in. Much to my delight, I discovered I could get free internet (details not to be disclosed) and would not, consequently, be without instant messenger and the Kansan blog all summer.

I went exploring tonight, had dinner on the boss. Austin is sweet, but I doubt anything can compare to the Kansan (OK, yes it can). In a twist, Kelly Wilder is the advertising intern at the Austin Business Journal, and also a KUer. Anyone know her? Anyway, I hope you all have a good start to summer. If you come down to Austin, call me.

I already heard my first y'all and howdy,
Kealing
PS: Post your names. It's only so much fun to guess who authored the posts.

Don't apologize if you're not sorry

"Without your help, I would not have been able to - as O'Toole put it - either try to feel the baby or make babies in all of those stomachs. If I inappropriately groped any of you, like AKS said, I do apologize. But damn, that was one helluva a good time." — Jonathan Kealing

Jonathan, groping is never inappropriate. Remember that, son, and you'll go far.

The new kid would like some help

As the new kid to the KANSAN I have NO idea where or how to view any of the barn party photos. Luckily, I don't think I am in any of them, but I would see what all I don't remember. So, if anyone could explain that to me... I would be forever greatful.
-Rachel Seymour

C'mon Nate

Don't be such a Nancy about it. Enough of us will come to hate our jobs enough that we'll be hanging out at the Kansan all the time.

As far as the barn party is concerned from my point of view, all I can say is sometimes when you're going for the fences, you go down swinging...

I'm gonna miss all y'all

Hey (graduating) seniors,

The newsroom will definitely be a lot emptier, and probably quieter, with y'all gone. This semster was by far the best semester I've had at KU. Let me re-phrase. This semester was actually fucking hell, but the bonding friendships made it the best! I've never been good at keeping in touch with friends long distance, but I hope that changes from this point forward. I wish y'all the best wherever you go and I hope see everyone in the future! As everyone wrote in my middle school yearbook, KIT (that's keep in touch for all you squares out there :) Bye y'all!

-Nate "Jewish suburban cowboy" Karlin

Ty Beaver ... as in the female genitalia

Y'all should check out a sweet little post Ty wrote on his Live Journal about the Kansan.

Other than that, I saw a preview of Vaupelocity's Barn Party photos. Crap. There's good stuff of he and Donovan playing tonsil hockey, Bickel as red as a newsroom chair and me ... dancing. The moves you'll eventually see me do are strange. Not that they're weird moves, but they're weird moves for me to be doing. It's kind of like if you saw Miranda in Western Kansas. It just ain't right.

Bother Vaupelocity to post his stuff. A barrage of e-mail would be funny ... for me.

A Kansas farmer feeds 128 people, plus you!

AKS

I have finally mastered the art of Ofoto...

Hey guys:
I finally got around to downloading my photos and putting them in an album on Ofoto. (Of course I'm not studying for my finals, I have no one to bake for and the Bachelor finale was brutal beyond words...) I don't have a master list of everyone's e-mail addresses, so if you want to see the photos, just let me know (hawkvb10@ku.edu). I'm not sure how I managed this one, but I think I'm in most of the photos. (Don't say you weren't warned) On a related note, AKS and I were not about to make out in photo #24 of Azita's album. I swear. Hope everyone has a great summer — I leave for Brazil on Monday, get home the following Wednesday and head out for NYC the next morning. When I get a new number/address/email address I'll post it here so when you're in the area you have no reason not to come see me.
—Ashley Bechard

From the desk of the Molester of the Year...

Well guys, now that the pictures have finally begun to circulate, I'd just like to thank everyone who put all the time and effort into the Barn Party. Without your help, I would not have been able to - as O'Toole put it - either try to feel the baby or make babies in all of those stomachs. If I inappropriately groped any of you, like AKS said, I do apologize. But damn, that was one helluva a good time. I look forward to my next FOUR! That's right grads, eat your heart out.

Additionally, in honor of my future with no life, I will be implementing a new feature to each post I make throughout the year. This will appear at the bottom of every entry and will appear as TSISFT: standing for Time Spent in Stauffer-Flint Today. I trust there will be times in the Fall when that number will cruise right into double digits.

At any rate, happy finals and happy summer. If you all are going away, good lives. Let me know if you're ever anywhere near where I am.

Kealing (aka The Molester)
TSISFT: 4 hours

A good time was had by all

So I already sent out the e-mail about my broken camera, but Marissa and Azita have some great Barn Party photos. My ego is a little bruised after seeing Azita's though. I've turned red and apologized already. If anyone can figure out what I'm doing to Ashley Bechard in one photo (#24) and Bickel in another (#67), I'd be grateful. And then embarrassed. Good lord. Here's to the last Barn Party ... EVER! Like I said before, if I bruised and/or verbally or sexually assaulted you at the barn, I'm sorry. However, the 'Molester of the Year' award goes to Mr. Jonathan Kealing. We have photo evidence.

AKS

Newsies of years past

Holy shit! Marc Ingber, what are you up to? And why does it allow you to be up at 8:53 on a Sunday morning? I hope that's when you were going to bed...

I am also grateful to AKS, who was saved me from thefacebook! And this also saves me from sending out an email about my graduation party, so here are the details:

Sunday, May 22, post-graduation ceremony. I will probably not stick around after walking the hill, so I'd say any time after 4 p.m., and it will go...until we pass out. My parents and half of Sabetha (hometown) will be there early on, but they'll leave before it gets too crazy. I'm sure it will culminate in the standard dance party. The final dance party, if you will, so one not to be missed. Oh, and for those of you who don't know, I live at 19 W. 14th St., Apt. 3.

-Neeley

Finals week is great...when you have no finals!!

Hey newsies,

Just wnated to let you know that this is a great idea and I'm glad AKS finally put those valuable 694 skills to good use when setting it up. Also, this last semester was awesome and I loved working with you all.

For those of you who don't know, I'll be in Scotland and New Mexico. First for a photography workshop and then working. I've set up a little website which will have a collection of the massive number of pictures I'm going to take. If that link doesn't work, the URL is ehub.journalism.ku.edu/~jbickel/photoblog. There isn't anything on it yet, but check back towards the end of the month and I'll hopefully have stuff on there.

I hope you all have a great summer! Be sure to keep in touch.

~Josh "Dirrrrrrrty" Bickel

That's right, like the animal...

Why do I have an ominous sense of doom about all this?

In all essence, this is pretty cool, AKS. And what better way to start your day than reading about the miseries of those you've left behind? Oh, it's priceless.

It will be interesting to see what gets posted here.

OK, peace out,

Ty, aka The Beav, Beaver, Female Crotch, or whatever the hell else you like...

Here I am

Oh yeah, this is Misty

Here I am

Just wanted to make sure I could figure out how to do this. I feel like I'm way behind in the high-tech communication after sidestepping facebook.

Blogtastic!

Yeah, so I don't know who is exactly on this blog - if its somewhat newer newsies or the trusty old veterans, but I'm guessing I know some of you. I was one of two multicultural reporters circa Spring 04 and the entertainment reporter last summer, but that was my entire time spent at the Kansan so my illustrious career there was relatively short. So if you remember me -"Yo! What's Up?" and if you don't -"I'm a rebel, baby, you don't wanna know me."
-Marc I.

Let the addiction begin

Ah, yes, another excuse besides AIM and Live Journal to sit in front of my computer on Saturday nights and be a nerdish apartment troll ... That's not Star Wars you hear in the background ... I swear. I think Bill and I figured out that the Barn Party was about an 8.5 on the Extreme-O-Meter. I think my fuzzy memory from last night confirms that's about right. Good times, good times. Don't be afraid to share your pictures. :D
- Jon

How I will (not) miss (some of) you all

This is really too goo to be true. A Kansan blog. And that password is just amazing. I can assure you, those of us remaining behind will pick up the mantel of those who have left, and we will provide you with regular updates here and via other forms of communication. Until then, I want to see pictures of the barn party start making their way around on Ofoto.

Oh, and slut addy bitches deserve to get beer poured on them.

And he's out,
Kealing (aka Hillary ;-) )

What sheep we are.

Hello friends,
Glad AKS thought of this. Anyway, everyone should be jealous because tonight I'm going to see Green Day, and that's awesome. I had a fabulous time at Barn Party last night (even though I was stone-cold sober). Realizing I started this post with nothing to say, I'll end it here. Love you all.
Prada Paige
Oh, and overheard from an addie last night: "And I was like, but I like shiny things!"
Typical.

Kansan withdraw?

Hi guys,

So I know that we really don't need the Kansan to occupy any more of our lives, but I thought this would be a good way for us all to stay in touch in one place. Could it be, only one day after the Barn Party, hangover still fresh, that I'm going through Kansan withdraw? Likely. Could it be that I am at work at the Natural History Museum and bored? More likely. Despite that, we still need a place to bandy about such gems as "Keep your boobs in the show." Plus, I'm sure we'll hear great budget lines every day. Since they are a Kansan thing that people in the real world don't understand, you have an outlet here. Keep in touch and take care.

Overheard at the museum gift shop today:
"No you have enough balls." — mom
"But it's a bouncy one." — kid
"Yeah, well all your balls bounce." — mom

That's what she said.