Culture Shock

My husband and I love to travel. We don't have the time or money to do as much as we'd like, but we enjoy taking little getaways here and there. We love to learn about new places and people, but on our latest trip, we were surprised by both.

This past weekend, we drove down to Gatlinburg, Tennessee, for a stay in the Great Smoky Mountains. We didn't know much about the area, just that it was supposed to be pretty, and we were therefore not at all prepared for what we would find.

I was expecting a small town with a couple of B&Bs, some cabins and Dollywood, placed strangely in the midst of nature. As soon as we got off the highway, I realized how wrong I'd been. It turns out it is the mountains that look out of place in the midst of all the tourist attractions. Dinner theatres, hokey museums and wedding chapels covered the landscape. This was not the relaxing getaway I had envisioned.

The drive up the mountain to our lodge made things even more confusing. We saw ramshackle houses with junk littering the yard and hoped in vain that no one actually lived there. I wondered what sort of person would stay in a falling down house, without even trying to make it look nice or at the very least ensure that it was structurally sound. And less than a mile away stood our inn, with beautifully decorated rooms and gorgeous views of the mountains. And, as it turned out, the inn, the balcony hot tub and the CDs of soothing music that the owners had left in our suite made it possible for us to relax after all. And I can't say enough for the beauty of the natural landscape. Going to places like that make me realize just how ugly Illinois is.

Just when I was getting used to the strange duality of the tranquility on the mountain and the noise of the tourist trap below, one of the locals threw another surprise at me. On Saturday night, we went out to dinner, and our waiter saw us looking at a Gatlinburg travel guide. We happened to have it turned to a page on wedding chapels, and he asked about it. We laughed with him over the advertisement featuring a bearded man in overalls and a tuxedo jacket presiding over a "Hillbilly Wedding." Our waiter commented that he'd have to look into going to that place, and, asking what I thought was an obvious question, I inquired whether he was getting married.

"No," he said. "Well, sort of. I'm just helping out a friend. She works here, and she's from Russia, and if she doesn't get married, she'll have to go back."

I wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't my place to lecture this guy about how stupid and illegal this plan was, and though we were both wondering, neither my husband or I mentioned (until later, when we were alone) how weird it was that a foreigner would want to settle in Gatlinburg rather than a major city, or how horrible things must have been in Russia that marrying a dorky waiter and working in a brewery restaurant seems like a great idea. In the end, we laughed it off and pointed out the chapel whose advertisement said that Billy Ray Cyrus had gotten married there.

We escaped back to our tranquil inn, and the next day, to home, where things aren't nearly as interesting or beautiful, but at least they make sense.

Crate Training

I wouldn't call myself a defiant person, but I do believe it is pretty much human nature to feel the urge to do something you've been told not to do.

This is particularly troublesome for me today, as the water has been turned off in my office complex for the past two hours and will be off for another three. All I can think about is going to the bathroom. I don't even have to go, but I think I'm going to will myself to have to go with all this thinking. I wonder if this is how Stella feels when my husband and I leave for work in the morning, knowing we won't be home for several hours.

I guess I could pee in the woods behind the building, but they're also putting on a new roof, so I'm sure someone would see me.

When One Door Closes, Another Opens

My husband and I have reached another interesting point in our search for couple friends. Last week, he was taking Stella for a walk around the neighborhood and happened to meet another Boston Terrier.

Her name is Zoe, and she's about Stel's age. She saw my husband and Stel walking by and started barking, and her puppy parents came out to see what all the racket was. They had a brief exchange and parted ways.

Yesterday, Stella and I were walking past the same building, and it happened again. This time, though, Zoe came down to say hello. Zoe was a little more excited to meet Stella than Stella would have liked, but her puppy parents seem very nice, and they obviously have great taste in dogs. Plus, they live close.

All in all, I'd say these people have good couple friend potential. At least, as much as they could after a five-minute conversation about our dogs.

A Chance Encounter, A Missed Connection

My husband and I found the perfect couple friends, but we totally blew our chance.

On Monday evening, we were at PetSmart for obedience class, and my husband nudged me and pointed out a Boston Terrier shopping with his puppy parents. We had a few minutes before class, so Stella and I walked over to say hello.

The dog's name was Eddie, and he was exactly Stella's age. His parents were about the same age as my husband and me, and they were very nice, too. We had a pleasant chat about Boston Terriers, and then we parted ways, us for class and Eddie and his folks for parts unknown.

Later, we realized these people would have been the perfect friends for us. They were our age and nice and had an awesome dog, plus our pups could have been pals too.

I guess if we really wanted to, we could find them. I know they took obedience class at PetSmart at one point, because our trainer came by and said hi and asked how Eddie was doing. So conceivably, we could ask the trainer how to find them. But that would be creepy. So all we can hope is that we run into Eddie and his parents again.

That's What She Said

I know I'm really late to the party on this one, but I just had to write about my love of The Office.

As I've written here before, I have a problem trying to get into television shows that I haven't watched from the very beginning. You either have to find someone to explain what happened from the beginning, or you have to get the earlier seasons on DVD, and it seems like a big commitment to make to a TV show you're not sure you'll like anyway. The Office, however, is a little different for me, because I actually did see a few early episodes and just didn't have the time (or desire to commit to a show) to watch it for awhile. So after catching a few reruns on TBS, I was enjoying the show so much that I had to start Netflixing the DVDs. I'm pretty much caught up now and loving every minute I spend looking through the eyes of the employees at paper company Dunder Mifflin.

But I think my favorite thing about the show is its setting. It takes place in Scranton, Pennsylvania, which isn't all that far from where I grew up. And the folks on the show have really done their homework when it comes to Pennsylvania. There are references to many well-known Scranton destinations (like the Mall at Steamtown, where I have in fact been), and there's a lot of talk about hunting (mainly by office geek Dwight Shrute, who I swear had to have been based on a real person. I think I actually went to high school with the guy. Now I know how rock bands of the early 80s felt when This Is Spinal Tap came out).

Last night, I saw for the first time an episode that takes place on "take your daughter to work day" at Dunder Mifflin. In the episode, the boss, Michael, decides to show a video of a children's television show he was on as a kid. Called Fundle Bundle, the show is hosted by a ruffle-clad "Miss Trudy." When I saw her open a gate to welcome viewers into her magical happy land, I was immediately taken back to my own childhood.

When I was a kid (and for many years before my time as well), there was a show on a Scranton TV station called Hatchy Milatchy. It was hosted by a ruffle-clad "Miss Judy," and she also opened the show by opening a gate. I couldn't believe it. I hadn't thought of Miss Judy and Hatchy Milatchy in years, but there it was, right in front of my eyes, only slightly altered.

I can only hope that future episodes will see the Dunder Mifflin gang heading to Clyde Peeling's Reptiland or the Little League World Series.

Going Blind

I have a blind date tonight. Yes, I'm married, but it's not that kind of date.

See, a few weeks ago, my pal Anna e-mailed me and said she had met, through a mutual friend, a couple who lives in town, was recently married and is looking for friends. She said she immediately thought of my husband and me and just knew we would get along. So tonight, we and the other couple, along with a few others (so it doesn't look like a setup, I guess) are going for drinks.

I've never been set up before, even in the traditional single boy-single girl way. And finding friends can be as difficult as finding dates sometimes, so I'm a little nervous about meeting these new people. Will we like them? Will they like us? If they turn out to be totally lame, will we be upset with Anna for thinking they'd be good friends for us?

I think it will be fine, though. Anna is a nice person and I'm sure therefore befriends nice people. (She befriended us, after all.) And even if we don't hit it off with this other couple, I'm sure they'll turn out to be pleasant enough to spend an evening with. And who knows -- perhaps this will be the start of a beautiful friendship.