It occurred to me as I was driving to Manahattan, KS this past weekend for Homecoming/Halloween that my followers, if I were to have any, would know nothing about me. What is a blog without an identifiable blogger; someone you can relate to? Who on earth is this "Rhythm Kation" and why is her name Rhythm Kation? The short answer...we all had nicknames in high school that related our given name to some sort of a party or party theme. My friend Elise was not her usual sober and low self (read: drunk and high) and she blurted this nickname out one night. It stuck. Well, it stuck with me anyway. I think I'm the only person who uses the name on occasion. Nonetheless, it is the name I'll shall use to blog mostly because I haven't yet come up with another creative and clever name to use as my blog name.
Okay enough about me and on to the weekend...Manhattan, KS: The Little Apple. It's such a glorious place especially now that it has some of the comforts of a real city like a Best Buy and Olive Garden. Somehow when I went there I didn't really miss those things but now that they, along with other big city creature comforts, litter the landscape I consider Manhattan to officially be on the map. Honestly, as long as So Long Saloon and Aggieville don't disappear, I could care less what else pops up in what the locals call Man-happenin'. Aggieville is like no other place on earth. Dirty, old, smelly bars each with their own version of bar food and special drinks. It's a smorgasbord of fishbowls, fishtanks, $3 pounders, grillie cheesys, fried pickles, cheap chinese, sweet potato fries and, in the case of this weekend, crazy and elaborate costumes. Oddly enough the most-seen costume of the night was a banana. Sometimes there was a monkey in tow but usually it was just the banana walking down the street in all his banana glory. I know you're hoping for a description and picture of my costume but I can never come up with anything I deem creative and original enough to wear by the time Halloween gets here. I know it's the same time every year but without fail it sneaks up on me. I always say "next year" and "next year" gets here and I got squat. This year my group and I went as undergrads - a last minute attempt at fitting in with the masses. I think this was supposed to inspire us to last into the wee hours of the night and drink like we just turned 21. Instead, we were all spent by about 11:00 but continued on thinking that's what everyone else wanted to do. We made our way from bar to bar so our pre-Aggieville, post-game decision to go on a pub crawl remained intact.
Since I started this blog entry over a year ago fast forward to 2012. It took me a minute to remember what the heck I was talking about in the title but then it came to me! I have a vague recollection of leaving the liquor store after having left the bar and then returning to the bar and walking past a guy. I don't remember his name since this was over a year ago, for now we'll call him Paul. Anyway, apparently in my drunken haze I felt that he was "fine." Yes, I do believe I used that specific word and I also believe I said, rather loudly, that I didn't know who he was but nevertheless proceeded to make out with him. A proud moment indeed as I look back and reflect. At some point, Paul and I parted ways - so sad. I believe this parting of the ways came when I decided I was bored and missed my friends, "stole" a bicycle from behind some house and rode it back to Aggieville. Fail. I don't recall if the bike made it back to anywhere but I'm fairly certain I reconnected with my posse and returned home no worse for the wear.
I have been back to Manhattan since this particular visit and remain enamored with the town. It seems as though, for me, it's like a mini-Las Vegas in that each trip is different but also very much the same. In other words, I'm schwasted before the sun sets on the first night, have lost my voice and have removed one or both shoes in an attempt to delay the inevitable face plant in the middle of the street. When I don't go to Manhattan on a yearly adventure I feel there's a void. The friends I laugh so hard with my face hurts and who remind me of classic memories from days gone by somehow seem closer even if I only see them once a year. Perhaps I'll go to Manhattan for homecoming again this year?! I think it's high time I get back there lest they forget me and my crazy ways.
