November 2011
30 posts
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jamestown, to tabb virginia, to hampton, where my... →
right by williamsburg, another long standing settlement, where my grandparents attended and did historical reenactments. My grandfather grew up a couple fjords up—-first gloucester county and then tidewater virginia.
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Unflattering will of an ancestor
Robert Tabb’s will reads as follows. Know all men by these presents that I, Robert Tabb, of Hardin County, State of Kentucky, being in my right senses and sound mind, do make this my last will and testament in the following manner: I do bequeath to my dearly beloved wife, Mary Tabb, two negroes, Jason and Sally, also a sorrel mare and such furniture as the said Mary may think proper...
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my first ancestor to come to the states, in 1632,... →
this is fun: i'm in library archiveS! →
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the untranslateable
Im collecting a list of words that are almost impossible to explain to Spanish speakers:
so far I have:
edgy
piece of work
self-aware
hang-ups
notice a theme? When Spanish has psychologically complex words theyre A, always negative, like ‘enrollado’ [too caught up in everything] or ‘depresiva’ [not someone w/ a disease, just someone who’s always depressed], or...
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pizza gringo
so I walk into this pizza place I always go to, and order my pizza gringo i always get [sue me, it has barbecue sauce and it’s fucking good].
So I just say mumbling, pizza gringo. And she laughs, and I laugh too, thinking how cute, yes the gringo ordering that pizza.
And then she’s like, so, what pizza?
She had just heard ‘gringo.’ I mean she thought I just f**** walked...
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to continue from the post below ~~ :) And yet also, I left tennis behind as a way of life. So many people I know still are just coaches—-its the only thing we walk away employable in. And it makes sense, it sounds trite, but it was certainly an occupying movement of some sort, if not an occupation.
And at 18, I was just so so so emotionally drained. I was thinking about that day when...
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on athletic beauty
That is the book I want to read the most, by a comp lit prof at Stanny, that I somehow still haven’t gotten around to reading somehow —-“On Athletic Beauty.” I trolled through the past posts of this blog here, I trolled through past memories of moments of uncertainty. And I remember how much it was always tinged with sport. When I was in bad mood in college, I used to go...
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