This weekend my friend/freshmen year roommate Kim invited me to come watch the NCSU vs. Wake game in Raleigh with her and her parents. The weather report was looking mighty dreary so I expressed my reservations until she told me we were going to be sitting inside in a suite. Oooh! Football indoors? This I can do.
She told me we were going to the game with "people my dad works with." I don't really know what Kim's dad does - all I knew is that he raises turkeys and works for a major turkey producing company, so I didn't really know what to expect. So, we get there and we go up to this suite... only this suite is about the same square footage as my house. No joke. Amazing views, huge plush leather couches, flat screen TVs everywhere, a buffet nicer than our wedding and an open bar with top shelf liquor. I'm like ok, and I thought I had connections when I scored Gold Lot passes for Wake? Not having to walk far to the stadium is small peanuts compared to an endless pour of Chardonnay. Hello! So I'm finally like Kim, whose box is this? And she points out this adorable little old man in his 70s with a big red plaid shirt on and faded Levi jeans and a braided leather belt... I mean, country as can be. She's like "That guy, Wendell Murphy. He raises hogs." So she starts pointing people out... that guy raises hogs, that guy raises turkey, they sell grain, etc. She goes "Everyone here is pretty much a farmer." Talk about counter to my stereotypes! I am such a Yankee in that I tend to still think that Big Business is the only way you can make Big Moola. Nope. A few minutes later we're sitting in our seats (inside while the rain pelted down!) and I look at the field house.... well here, this is what I saw. I love how Kim plays it off like "oh no biggie, he raises hogs." Um, apparently a lot of hogs. I did some googling when I got home and by "raising hogs" she really meant "owns Smithfield Farms." She is about as Southern as can be when it comes to downplaying things.
But anyways, it was nice to be inside and be half sloshed on very yummy wine to watch our miserable, miserable team. It was not nice to be sitting with the very, very vocal and jubliant Wolfpack fans as we get smacked in our game.
Once upon a time, I had a blog. I chronicled a life in Spain, a heartbreak, 4 moves, a chronic illness and relationship rekindled. It's been a few years and it turns out I missed broadcasting my personal life for all the internets to see. So I'm back and bloggier than ever.