Beers 11-13

After our many hours in line for the Bell Tower, Kevin and I knew we had to hit Old Chicago for some grilled cheese and beers. The first beer on special that day was New Belgium’s 1554. I had already tried this beer once before when I visited the New Belgium brewery. This beer has a coffee/chocolate-y taste to it. It’s heavier than most but still tastes pretty good, even to someone like me. 

Next up was the Highland Gaelic Ale. I thought this was a bit more difficult to drink than the last one, but Kevin disagreed. It was a darker beer than the 1554. I tasted a bit of caramel and chocolate in this one, so it was a bit sweeter than the roast flavors of the 1554. 

Finally, I ordered a Yuengling Traditional Lager. I had definitely had a Yuengling or two before, but never at Old Chicago. This was my favorite of the three beers today. It is more amber and and not as heavy as the rest of the beers from that day. I really like the sweetness of this and how cheap it is in grocery stores.

Senior Week Part Two

Thursday of last week was UNC Senior’s Last Lecture. The UNC Senior Class of 2014 chose Lois Boynton, a Journalism School (!!) to speak. I have never had a class with Lois, but have recently gotten to hang out with her at the J School Senior Sendoff and at our NSAC semi finals. She has taught public relations and ethics in the J School for 13 years. 

A group of people from my NSAC class all walked over to the lawn in front of Morehead Planetarium to hear her departing words for the senior class. You can watch the whole video of it here, thanks to the J School’s new website.

Lois turned TAR HEELS into an acronym for just about every graduation cliche you’ve ever heard. 

Try something new. “There’s a reason we get you to think outside of where you’ve been and where you think you’re going. It prepares you now to try new things all the time. Experience things as best you can, and as soon as you can.”

Ask questions. “Every chance you get, ask a question. Ask for information. Ask for advice. Ask for an explanation and, more importantly, ask for help. Trust the cancer patient here . . . I had to ask for help. The one thing I learned more than anything is that people want you to ask them.”

Remember. “I’ve talked to some of you who say you’re excited about leaving and, at the same time, you don’t want to leave. You have so many great memories here. Hold on to those. Come to Homecoming. Stay close.”

Help. “Never underestimate the difference you can make in the lives of others. Step forward, reach out and help. What I love about Carolina’s students is the fact that you like to help. You want to help each other, you want to help your family and you want to help your community. These are the signs of great human beings.”

Expect ethical challenges. “People are going to challenge your sensibilities . . . Think about it as far as it is going to happen and how you will respond. Where is the line you’re not going to cross? Think about that ahead of time. When you’re looking at jobs, check out their code of ethics. What are their expectations? Do they meet what you believe is most important?”

Embrace failure. “Think of the number of inventions and solutions that have come out of people failing. There’s a wonderful saying that says if you fall down seven times, get up eight. That’s what you need to do. If you’re going to fail, fail boldly. Do not be afraid to fail because that’s where solutions come from.

Life, laugh, love. “Be silly. Be yourselves. Be crazy. Don’t take yourself too seriously. One of the things I counted on when I was going through treatment was that somebody could help me laugh, and I had to rely on myself, too, to find things to laugh at. Cancer is not funny, but there’s a lot of funny stuff that happens.”

Soar. “You can do anything. You will do everything. And I’m going to be able to sit back and say I knew her when. I knew him when. You will be incredible, you will soar, and you will make us so proud. We’re already proud.”

In the middle of this lecture, she brought up this video of UNC coaches and athletes dancing to Pharrell’s “Happy.” Seriously, who doesn’t love this video? Lois asked for people to come up and dance with her, so Megan and I joined her up front.

 

It was SO much fun and I am so glad that we decided to go up there. It fit right into her suggestions of trying something new, laughing at yourself, and embracing the failure that is my dance moves. 

Be silly. It’s so much more fun to live life that way. If you know me at all, hopefully you know I try to do that each and every day. No need to be embarrassed, because everyone else is probably more embarrassed that they didn’t have the cahones to do it themselves. 

Senior Week Part 1

Last Tuesday, Kevin and I decided to climb the Bell Tower. Neither of us have any classes on Tuesday afternoons, which is a good thing because I don’t think either of us were prepared for how long we were about to wait in line. 

The line closed at 3:00, so obviously that means we didn’t get in line until 2:15ish. It was a hot day, but we knew the rain was going to be coming around 5. Ah, that will be plenty of time, we said. We’ll be out of here and back at Old Chicago in no time, we said. How wrong were we…. 

As the line moved slower than I thought humanly possible, student groups were out and about passing out food. One student group asked us to sign a petition for how much money we would add to our student funds to instate a bike share program at UNC. Without even consulting each other, Kevin and I each suggested the highest amount. Doesn’t seem like the brightest idea to ask graduating seniors how much money other students should have to pay..Sure! Pay as much as you want! Yeah! That will be great! ….Thanks for the doughnut. 

As we finally rounded the last curve (two hours later) and could see the Bell tower ahead of us, we realized that we would most likely be standing out here when the rain started. Did either of us bring an umbrella? Of course not. Who do you think we are? Prepared? Never. 

Luckily, right around this time people, including Chancellor Folt, started passing out Tar Heel cookies for everyone waiting in line. We mere mortals at the back of the line didn’t get a chance to meet ChanFolt, but hey y’all’s pictures looked great! 

Then, it started raining. Well, more like drizzling. It was on and off for our last half hour in line. And man will I tell you, I have never seen people freak out so much in my life. One girl buried herself between the brick sidewalk and a nearby bush. And when I say “buried,” I am NOT exaggerating. It was like she was the Wicked Witch of the West or something. Think that was strange enough? When the rain stopped, she stayed there. Okay. 

So, here we are three hours later and FINALLY get to the Bell Tower. We make our way out onto that little patio area (for lack of a better word) midway up the tower, because, ya know, primo picture spot. 

After taking that beautiful picture, we headed up the spiral staircases to sign our name on the bricks. Here’s where it gets difficult. We went up to the top level, but it was so crowded and such a tight space, that we immediately headed back down a level. Much better.

Now began the difficult task of us finding a freaking brick to sign. After a few minutes walking around in circles looking for empty bricks I could reach, Kevin found a few over the staircase. Well….that’s an issue. I’m not the tallest person in the world and CERTAINLY not the most graceful. Kevin leaned over the railing and wrote his name in Sharpie with ease. Welp, now it’s my turn  I guess. I could barely reach the brick and had to write like I was waving a magic wand in those old Disney Channel commercials (come on I know you know what I’m talking about). 

I wrote my name twice, trying to make the second round look better. The results were spectacular…

Now, I’m sure it sounds like I might be complaining a lot about this process but I’m really not. You have to find humor in things like this, and that’s what I always try to do. You also have to realize that I am constantly thinking about graduation.

It’s an end. It’s a beginning. It’s new friends becoming old friends. It’s spending time with some of my favorite people on the planet only to realize that I will be leaving them all in a few short months. Days even for some of them. It is so many different things all happening simultaneously and how do you put that into words? 

 

Beers 8-10

The next three beers to look at for my World Beer Tour extravaganza are the Goose Island 312 Urban Wheat Ale, the Sam Adams Boston Lager, and the Oskar Blues’ Mama’s Little Yella Pils. This was a guuud night for beers for me.. I liked all 3!

The Goose Island, out of Chicago, has pretty low amounts of hops and an orange-y flavor to it, so it is right up my alley. If I wasn’t trying to try only new beers, I would have chosen this one all night.  I’ve never been to Chicago, but this may be a reason (among many!) to go.

The second beer, the Sam Adams Boston Lager, was my least favorite of the three. The Sam Adams’ website calls this the “Go To Beer” (trademarked and all!), but I don’t think it would be mine.  I do think this beer would go really well with some crab cakes or clams while sitting outside for lunch near the Boston Harbor (fitting, eh?). I think the reason I wasn’t digging on this one as much is because it’s a tad bit hoppier than the other two. Not crazy hops, but enough to notice.

Finally, my favorite of the three. The Mama’s Little Yella Pils is a beer that I’m preeeetty familiar with. Back when some of my guy friends and I were Monday night regulars at Brixx, I used to order this beer. It is lighter, yellow (duh), and 5.3% APV. While some of my friends (*cough Tricia cough*) said that it tasted like Natty Light, I beg to differ. This is like the high(er) class version of a shitty beer, but that tastes better and usually costs $3 more. Regardless of the haters, I like this beer so I’m gonna keep on doing me.

As the true wine aficionados say (seems off topic, but I’m getting to a point), the only good wines are the wines you think are good.

 

Beers 5-7

After  a brief Old Chicago hiatus, here I am with the next few beers on my list. Today, I’ll be reviewing the Aviator Black Mamba Oatmeal Stout, the New Belgium Fat Tire Amber Ale, and some Sea Dog beer that I don’t remember.

First on the list is the Black Mamba from Aviator Brewing Company, out of  Fuquay Varina, NC.  This brewery is super cool and started in 2008 out of an airplane hangar!  They are now in a larger building and do brewery tours every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Last May, some friends and I went to take a tour and sample some of their beers.

 

I don’t remember trying the Black Mamba while we were there, but I DO remember the Devil’s Tramping Ground Tripel. It’s a Belgian ale with a fruity flavor. A bit sweet, but not as heavy as most beers with 9.2% APV.

Back to the point, this Black Mamba beer from Old Chicago was pretty difficult to drink. At 6.5% APV, this beer has a serious chocolate aftertaste. After checking out the website, I learned that this beer is aged in old bourbon barrels, which is pretty freakin cool if you ask me.

 

 

Next on the list is New Belgium Fat Tire Amber Ale. Most beer drinkers are familiar with this beer out of Fort Collins, CO. I didn’t realize until I started writing this post that I have ALSO been to this brewery! When I was in Colorado this January, Gabrielle took me to New Belgium to try out some flights.

 

As you can see from the picture, I got to taste a lot of different beers. I like a lighter beer and Gabrielle prefers darker ones, so we each started from one end of the flight and worked our way inwards.

The Fat Tire is a Belgian Beer and, like I said, pretty standard when it comes to beginners’ beers. I LOVE this beer, so when it was on special at Old Chicago I was extra excited. You can definitely taste the bready-ness of the beer (or toasty and biscuit-like according to the more eloquent review on the website).

Now, here comes my first lesson in the World Beer Tour blog series. I didn’t take any notes at dinner, so I can’t even remember which beer I had. The World Beer Tour website just shows that it was a Sea Dog beer, but because it’s a rotating tap at OC, it doesn’t specify which.

But, I can tell you a little bit about Sea Dog according to their website. They are “Maine owned and Maine brewed” and have a nautical flair to all of their beers. Barney, the sea dog, was their mascot and an “apprentice brewmaster.”

So these blog posts are kind of boring unless you’re really into beers, but I’m hoping that as I start trying more beers I will be able to compare/contrast them and have a bit more opinions on them all.

Anywho, that’s all for this post, folks. Happy Easter!

And so it begins

In an attempt to try something new for my blog, I enrolled in Old Chicago’s World Beer Tour on Monday. The World Beer Tour is OC’s rewards program that encourages patrons to drink 110 different beers on tap in order to get your name on a plaque. A plaque you say? That sounds lame you say? Well they also have other prizes available along the way:

WBT Credits	1st Trip	Multiple Trips
10 WBT Credits	WBT Playing Cards	5 OC Bucks
25 WBT Credits	WBT Clip-on Watch and Compass	5 OC Bucks
40 WBT Credits	Old Chicago Bottle Opener	5 OC Bucks
55 WBT Credits	WBT T-Shirt	15 OC Bucks
70 WBT Credits	WBT Travel Mug	5 OC Bucks
85 WBT Credits	WBT Baseball Cap	5 OC Bucks
100 WBT Credits	WBT Travel Cooler	5 OC Bucks
110 WBT Credits	WBT Sweatshirt	20 OC Bucks

I’m really looking forward to the clip on watch…..

I have a handy little card that keeps track of all my beers and can log into my account online to see my progress.

As you can see, I’m 4 beers in and already found a loophole! Even though you can only drink different beers, the way they code the rotating pints is all under the same number. So my two Leinenkugel Summer Shandys from Monday both counted. Suckaaas!

Moving forward, I’m going to review each of the beers I try (and all the prizes I get!!!!), but since I just came up with this idea I don’t have anything great for the beers I tried, I don’t have a great review for them. Luckily, I didn’t go too far out of my comfort zone, or the realm of beers that people have heard of, drinking the shandys, a Blue Moon Belgian White Belgian-Style Wheat Ale, and the Sierra Nevada Ruthless Rye.

The regular blog posts will keep on coming, but keep your eyes out for the WBT tags, too!

Go Pirates (?) and Go Alert Carolina (??)

This weekend, I went down to Greenville to visit my boo thang Kristin and it was, strangely, the first time I’ve been to ECU since being in school. I know this isn’t a very exciting “first” but it’s one nonetheless. I got in on Friday night and after an initial two hours of catching up (how’d that happen?), we headed over to Carolina Ale House to watch the UNC-Providence basketball game. We met up with some of Kristin’s friends from her Physical Therapy grad program. 

After the game, we just headed home and apparently fell asleep on the couch? I woke up the next morning so disoriented, but if you know me and my heavy sleeping at all, you know that’s not a huge surprise. I have slept standing up, leaning against the bathroom door of a moving charter bus before, so there’s that. 

The next day, we laid out by the pool for about five hours. We grabbed some Bud Light Mang-o-Rita‘s and headed for the apartment pool around noon. I woke up at 5 pm to a sun burn and an impatient Kristin, who had just been sitting out by herself while I napped. We hung out by the pool for a little bit longer, even though the sun was setting and just chatted about life and all the fun things we have planned for this summer. I absolutely cannot wait to live in the Triangle and have all of my friends in one place.

We had a pretty low-key Saturday night watching Modern Family, but I ain’t complaining. I had to get up pretty early on Sunday morning to drive back to babysit in Chapel Hill – WHICH turned in to quite an experience all in itself. 

I took the girls (2 and 4) to a birthday party at Marbles on Sunday morning and then we came back to their house in Chapel Hill. As soon as I put the youngest down for a nap, I got the Alert Carolina text about an armed man on campus. I was freaking out, because they live so close to campus and have beautiful, large windows ALL over the first floor. I hurriedly shuffled the eldest upstairs to play in her room and she was NOT having it. I let her watch Netflix and lay in her parent’s bed as a way to make being upstairs “cool” but it just wasn’t cutting it.

 

Luckily, The Daily Tar Heel (check out our new website!) was live tweeting any updates to the event. When I saw that it was just a man with knives who had gotten into a fight on campus, I was less scared but still not ready to go downstairs.

Finally, the all clear text came through about an hour later and we headed downstairs to color. Her dad came home minutes after this whole thing went down, so I told him everything and we shared a good laugh over my mini-freak out. I was relieved of my duties and just happy that I wasn’t responsible for any lives but my own now. 

 

Impending Graduation

Well, here’s something new. Today I went to the UNC Graduation Fair and holy guacamole was it overwhelming. All over the Great Hall (yes, like in Harry Potter) of the Student Union, campus organizations were there for us to make sure we are all fully prepared for May 11, 2014.

I walked in and instantly feel my personal bubble shrinking. There is an enormous line for people to order their caps and gowns and then you could get a portrait taken in your graduation regalia. The General Alumni Association was there selling their wildly expensive Lifetime Memberships that I would love to have, but won’t until I’m a few years (or more than..) into my career. You could also buy diploma frames, class rings, extras to bedazzle your gowns for the big day.

I was pressed for time between work and class, so I opted out of waiting in the line or dropping the cash on these things today. But, I still walked away from it reflecting on what’s to come. I have been so excited to graduate and move on to the next step (still am!) but it’s hard not to reminisce and think about how everything has been and what is to come.

If you had told me four years ago (probably to the day) that I’d be graduating, happily, from UNC Chapel Hill, I would have laughed at you and let slide some snarky remark about getting out of North Carolina or die tryin. Then, let’s go to three years ago. My n00bie freshman self thought I was going to law school, still pined away for UVA (suckers…bet they’re kicking themselves now), but was starting to make real, true friends. Two years ago, I’m a sophomore and fully into my job at The Daily Tar Heel, which I will tell anyone who asks (and some who don’t) is the defining experience of my college career. It shaped me into who I am as a person, a professional, a salesperson, and a friend. So here I am, in my sophomore spring, finally getting into the full swing of Molly Ball.

One year ago, I was a junior and already over college. Most of my friends had graduated or were graduating that spring and I was convinced that my senior year would be full of trips to wherever my “real” friends lived and worked while letting Carolina just exist without me.

LOL.

Senior year has been a blast. I have the best friends (both at UNC and not); I have a great job at the DTH and an even better one lined up for next year; I went to Amsterdam in January and made even more great friends; and I’m ready to graduate. Yeah, I get sentimental about leaving Carolina one day and then the next day I’m shouting out how many class days til LDOC (26!).

But I think they’ve figured this whole undergrad thing out. Four years is the perfect time to get your life figured out for what you need to get figured out at this point in life. I’ve grown, I’ve changed, and now I’m ready to move on.

Bring it on, life! Not because I want to leave, but because I’m supposed to and because that’s the way it works.

One more thing- quit with the sappy Instagrams, class of 2014. You’re bumming me out.

 

 

My First Tinder Date…

So, this is gonna be really fun to write. I was considering finding something else new/fun to write about, but my girl Tricia made a good point- of all the people to write a blog about getting stood up on a Tinder date, of course it would be me. I’m gonna take that as she meant “Wow, Molly, you are so good at laughing at yourself and finding a good story/joke in everything you do,” instead of the other option– “Wow, Molly, of course you would get stood up on a Tinder date, so no one else could write about it.”

Here’s how it all went down. My besties and I have been Tindering (yes, it’s a verb) since last February. I like to call us early adopters. It’s always been as a joke and none of us ever planned to go on a date or even meet anyone off of it. I even remember last spring when a guy asked Kerry to lunch at Spanky’s and we freaked out thinking that anyone would meet up with someone they met on Tinder..

Then, this fall, Tinder, a dating app based on mutual attraction, really started to pick up. There were more guys logged onto the app and more and more people were talking about it. So, when my professor brought it up in class one day, asking who used Tinder, imagine how surprised I was when I was the only one who raise their hand (rather fervently, I might add). Even though I KNEW people were on Tinder, as evidenced by the fact that I had matched with some of the guys in the class – I’m lookin at you Pat.

The best part about Tinder is that it is all based on your location. So, when I lived in Wilmington I was seeing different guys than when I was in Chapel Hill, Greensboro, or wherever. I must’ve matched with Jim (fake name, lol) while I was home in Greensboro for some reason, but we never started chatting (an option after both people swap right, indicating that they are attracted to the other) until about a week ago.

I sent the above screen shot to my friends Kerry and Kevin, because we always swap Tinder stories (and occasionally Tinder for each other while we are out at bars). After we joked for a bit about how many times this kid messaged me with no response, Kevin told me I should go get a drink with him and Kerry said if he brought a friend, she would go with me! So, after a bit of freaking out, I decided I was gonna “DO IT FOR THE BLOG.” I messaged the guy back and told him that if he brought a friend, we were in and he agreed. We planned to meet at Natty Greene’s but never actually figured out a time or date.

This is where things turn sour..

I messaged him suggesting we meet Friday and, with that, Kerry and I were fully amped for a road trip to Greensboro.Thursday afternoon rolled around, and he still hadn’t messaged me back confirming our double date. We were going to go to Greensboro regardless on Friday and meet some of my friends from high school out so we had an escape plan in case things went horribly with Jim.

Kerry offers to drive and we end up leaving Chapel Hill around 6 – perfect time to make dinner with my parents before these “drinks” that are supposedly happening. We were cruisin down I-40 West when ew start noticing a strange smell and the engine temperature on Kerry’s car was as hot as it gets. Cool. We pull off at the next exit, which conveniently had a Wendy’s and a bathroom – just what we needed! Kerry’s dad was able to simply sum up the situation when he exclaimed “Fuck” on their call from the Wendy’s bathroom. We let the car cool off, and headed back on our way. We drove for ten more minutes when the indicator was all the way on the H, again. 3 ten minute intervals of driving eventually got us to my new house.

By the time dinner on Friday rolls around, Kerry, my brother, and my dad had a long list of jokes for me about being stood up. We crafted a great idea about messaging him and pretending I was already at Natty Greene’s and that I could order the first round so it would be ready when he got there. “Oh yeah that will get him to respond” they said. “Then he’ll show up” they said.

As I’m sure you could’ve guessed, he didn’t respond. Kerry and I still went to Natty Greene’s because our friend Kim was in town from Winston and we wanted to hang out with her. We ended up having a blast and it was all a joke in a matter of seconds UNTIL HE WAS AT NATTY GREENE’S WITH ANOTHER GIRL.

I went up to the bar to order a round for us and when I looked to my left and, lo and behold, there is Jim. You can’t do anything but laugh at that point, which is generally my outlook on anything anyways. With that, we said a cheers in his honor and moved on to another bar to meet up with my high school friends (or acquaintances, right Gordie?) James and Gordie.

The night ended fine with an exciting cab ride home and some lovely selfies with Kerry and my pup Maggie. What more could a gal want out of a date? So, see ya never Jim.

Mad love still goes out to Tinder for enabling me to tell such great stories, boosting my confidence (sometimes) and filling an entire folder full of screenshots of hilarious and, occasionally, vulgar pickup lines.

Life’s rough for some people on Tinder

And then sometimes, you run into your pals, like Kevin here

My Parents’ House

I’ve lived in two houses (not counting temporary college dorms, apartments, etc) in my life, but really only consider one “home.” I was born in Greensboro and moved to another house, still in Greensboro, when I was in first grade. I lived in that house until this Christmas break when my parents sold our house and moved to a neighborhood closer to their friends, my dad’s office, and pretty much anything else they might need or want. The house hunt is still on, but the house they are currently renting has almost all of the things they are looking for in a house.

Even though they aren’t sure if they’ll stay or not, they are all moved in. Couches and chairs I sat on in my old living room are rearranged; furniture from rooms in my old house is now in “my” room (but is it really mine?); my dad’s prized dining room table just fits in the new dining room. So much of it is the same, except not. It’s the strangest feeling.

I went back to Greensboro this weekend for the first time since they moved. I pulled up in front of the house and my dad was outside with Maggie, our 14 year old yellow lab, and I had to ask him where to park. Like, what? One of the first things I told my parents was how I had been telling people where I was going. At brunch before I left on Sunday, I told friends I was going to my parents’ house, not home, not my house. Is this what being grown up feels like?

It feels like I’m really hating on this new house/the move, and I don’t want it to sound like that. I love the neighborhood. We share a driveway/parking area with two of our close family friends and live across the street from another family that we are really close with. When Snowmageddon 2014 went down, my parents could just walk over to hang out with friends, walk up to the club to get a lunch, whatever. I love the actual house, too! The master suite upstairs is killer and has the best closets and sky lights. Our backyard is smaller, but still perfect length for a regulation corn hole match (this is key). Also, can I just tell you about the shower head in my bathroom? Purrfect.

I love(d?) my old house. I walked to school in elementary school, because it was four houses away. I lived between one of my best friends (lookin’ at you Jimmy) and my parents’ best friends. And then, you get all the memories, too. You can’t not love a house that housed 15 of your closest friends after your Debutante Ball, has that glass storm door that you took a picture in front of on every first day of school with Maggie peering through the glass, and curated the warmest fires on the coldest nights. Here’s lookin at ya, Berkley Place.

The gang (or what remained of us) after my Debutante Ball outside our old house

While we were all sitting around watching the Olympics and sippin’ on bubbles, my dad just said, “This feels so adult.” Well, dad, I think you’re right. How did we get here? Time, I guess (duh, Molly). But man alive does it fly. I guess we have to pick a new fire meet up spot, too. See you at the maple tree, Ball fam?

Guess how many times I cried writing this? LOL

An oldie but goodie outside of our old house