Archive for May 30, 2007

Kids These Days!

May 30, 2007

Sunday night I went to a party with my friend Brennan. I should have known this would be an eventful night, because the last time I went to a party with him we ended up chauffering a group of dressy young adults we didn’t know up to a castle on top of a mountain, where the valet yelled at us. Then at the party Brennan spent most of his time gone to get ice and trying to find a parking spot once he got back. Then when he finally did, and I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if that ice wasn’t melted anyway, the police came and the host got mad and started yelling at everyone, and it was raining and I kept slippy-sliding down the hill on our way back to the car. But that is neither here nor there.

At this particular party, the one on Sunday, we walked up, all unsuspecting and innocent (read: dummies who never learn), and were greeted by a crowd of people out in the yard all listening to a band. As we approached and I was able to see this band, my first instinct was, “awwww,” because it was one kid that was probably about ten or eleven, and one kid that couldn’t have been more than six. The ten-year-old was lead singing and guitar playing (The little one was kind of doing nothing, although you may get away with calling him “backup vocals”), and starts in on “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door,” except instead of Heaven’s door he was knocking on Satan’s door, and throughout the song he was swearing up a storm, to the point that any sailor in the audience may very well have blushed.

Brennan and I stood there for a minute trying to process this incongruous situation, and then we just looked at each other like, “ummmmmmmmmmm… ” I kept glancing around expecting the kid’s mom to march up and stick a bar of soap in his mouth.

At one point? He started singing about things he would do to a woman that are, um, very sexual in nature and involve, you know, um, a mouth and a, um, a… hoo-hoo, if you will. And I’m like, holy mother of pearl, where are this kid’s parents?! And here’s the part where I start to sound like your granddad who says when he was your age a bottle of Coca-Cola was a nickel… but when I was this kid’s age I had no idea what any of that “sex” stuff was, and if you were a fly on the wall, you may have even overheard me saying, “I don’t get why kissing lying down is so much worse than kissing standing up! Like, why does my dad always stand in front of the TV when people start kissing in bed? I don’t get it.” In fact, when my friend and I were twelve and discovered her uncle’s collection of cheesy romance novels and I read something about oral sex, I was completely traumatized. “He put his tongue WHERE????”

I mean, maybe I had an unusually wholesome upbringing, but Brennan was equally as shocked… although I do have to hand it to the kid… he was totally badass. He could shred that guitar, and later in the night he actually shot a bottle of red bull, like how you’d shoot a beer by puncturing the side of it. As though he were practicing for the real thing. I have to admit that although I did get caught in the crossfire and sprinkled with red bull, I was a little bit impressed.

As we journeyed through the house and encountered various characters, we found that the rest of the party was no less strange than the beginning. I had brought a bottle of wine, being the classy broad that I am, and as we unsuccessfully searched around for a corkscrew, someone who had opened his own wine with a knife knocked over a glass (red plastic cup) of it on my shoe. Simultaneously, an awkward dude came around asking everyone for money, because apparently someone had stolen someone’s computer, and this guy was taking donations for, “you know, first of all, to like show appreciation for the party, and also for like, you know, Kevin’s computer.” Although we’d probably been there for a total of twenty minutes, we felt this was as good a time as any to get the H outta there, and we sidled our way to freedom and went up to Birds, which felt a lot more normal.

Normalcy is something I enjoy, although I’ve got to say, experiences like these are what makes the world go ’round — or at least, they make for fun “Remember that time… ” stories. Ahh, life. (shaking my head and giving you a knowing look).

Here are a couple thumbnails (I’ve just decided I hate the word “thumbnails”) of the more normal part of the evening when we went to Birds and met Eric.

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I think in the second picture I was trying to make Brennan look at the camera, which he will not do without force, because he thinks he’s picture kryptonite.
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Not My Neighbor’s Wife Per Se

May 29, 2007

But I covet nonetheless. There are two expensive things I want. Scratch that… there are lots of expensive things I want, but two right now I am close to buying, and while the purchase of these things might make me feel guilty, because I know I should take that money and invest it or save it for the inevitable car down payment that looms ever closer as trips to the mechanic become more and more frequent, look at this bike!!!!!

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I want it so badly! It looks so Italian! I could only ride it wearing a flowy skirt and white blouse, and with a bell on the front and a basket on the back that perpetually contains a loaf of French bread. Think of all the gas I would save! And how cute I would look on it! THE BIKE. IT MUST BE MINE.

Secondly, I really want a keyboard or synthesizer or digital piano, or electronical piano as I like to say. It has been far too long since I have been able to play the piano on a regular basis, and it is high time I found a way to do so. I’ve been browsing around on the interweb, and I’ve found a very affordable one that has gotten excellent reviews, and I’m this close to buying it online. Would it be dumb to buy a piano I have never actually played? Would it be dumber to let this amazing deal pass me by? I don’t know! I do not know. But I know I am about to drop some cash on one or both of these things, and I am very, very excited.

P.S. After posting this and mooning over the picture of the bike some more, I feel compelled to point out that it matches my blog, people. The colors of the bike match the colors of this very blog (and also my bedroom, actually). If that is not a sign, I don’t know what is.

Marbles, and the Loss Thereof

May 23, 2007

Rebecca has gotten a new job, and while I am thrilled for her, I am sad for myself, because now she no longer works with me. When I arrived at work on Monday, I was greeted by her hard-partying patriotic kangaroo and koala, who were partying it up on my desk.

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It made me a little sad, although I’m glad they’ve joined me at my workstation, and it’s good that they brought beverages, because from the look of him clinging for dear life onto that paper tray, I think my own patriotic kangaroo could use a drink. Poor fella.

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Office stress will get to you if you’re not careful.

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Your Outfit Looks Like Pooh

May 17, 2007

When I wrote this blentry, I could not, in my wildest dreams most terrifying nightmares, have imagined this:

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I have no words, because the tackiness has caused my brain to explode. Now I am dead. Goodbye.

Holy Hot Nerd, Batgrrl!

May 8, 2007

Grrl Genius Cathryn Michon is a proponate proponent* of the hot nerd — which is pretty much what it sounds like — a man who is both sexy and kinda nerdy, as opposed to the bad boys many women tend to fall for. Well… I’ll jump on that bandwagon, because as someone who is a pretty big nerd myself and also rather dorky-chic, I appreciate those same characteristics in the opposite sex. Mind you, I’m not going to get all hot and bothered over someone who sits at home all day and night working on some type of electronical prototype for something (unless it is a robot to do my bidding), but I do appreciate a man with a healthy dose of intelligence. And a killer smile. And now? I know where to find them.

My laptop battery was sick last Friday, so I went to the Apple Store, not even considering that the guy at the genius bar who would be very, very helpful would also be adorable with sparkly eyes. I had not even considered it! But he was totally adorable. Possibly not my exact type, but it still made for a delightful genius bar experience — and the fact that his uniform t-shirt said “genius” on the front didn’t hurt, either. Hypothetically, if I wore one of those shirts every day, do you reckon it would help or hurt my dating life? Don’t answer that.

Anyway, so after my pleasant experience at the genius bar, my now happy, healthy laptop and I went downstairs to browse. As I was scanning the various iPod accessories, someone approached me and asked if I needed help. Well, I always say no when people ask me that, because I am stubborn and prefer to find things on my own — but as the “no” was coming out of my mouth, all slo-mo style like Annakin/Lord Vader’s cry of agony in Star Wars Episode III (see? nerd!) except instead of agony it was more like, “Nah, I’m fine, thanks,” I glanced up and realized that he was the hottest nerd in the whole place. Suddenly I really wished I needed help with something, and as he walked away, I realized I did need help, because I wasn’t finding what I was looking for, but by then he was across the store and I was forced to seek assistance from a nerd that was far, far from being hot. D’oh! At least now I know where they hide — and frankly, why am I telling you this? I should keep this little secret to myself! Next weekend instead of going to bars I want to get dressed up cute and go to all the Apple stores in town. And maybe the weekend after that I’ll be on a date with my brand new hot nerd!

*After publishing this, I realize I must not be nerdy enough to ever win a spelling bee!

I Need to Be Punished

May 2, 2007

OK, cowboy, rope that pony in before you get any ideas. I just mean I need a little discipline.

Wow, that sounds dirty, too. Is it hot in here?

Alright. Let’s start over. I have no self discipline. Did I ever have any? I can’t remember. But for the last few weeks I have been going to bed at midnight or later every night, getting far too little sleep, hitting snooze waaaaay too many times in the morning, and speeding to work like a bat out of hell. Then I’m tired at work and take a lunchtime nap in my car. Then, since I napped, I’m not tired between 10 and 11 that night when I should be going to bed, so I stay up, and the cycle repeats.

What do I do at night? Well, sometimes I go out, but other times… oh, you know… aimlessly surf the net, maybe read, maybe play the guitar, and more often than not, stare. Just… stare at… ohhhh, wall, ceiling, whatever strikes my fancy. Or maybe I’ll close my eyes and half fall asleep with my clothes on and my right hand on the keyboard of my laptop or my guitar across my stomach, and the only thought running through my head is, “I should get up and brush my teeth. I need to get up. I need to wake up right now and go wash my face and brush my teeth so I can get a decent night’s sleep for a change. Right this very second, I am going to get up. Now. At this moment, I will arise from this bed and I will go wash my face, damn it! Right now! RIGHT! NOW! I WILL GET UP!… zzzzzzzzz…”

Do you see why I need outside assistance in helping me submit to my own authority? (hmm, strangely the room seems to be warming up again… perhaps I shall submit to my own aforementioned authority a little tonight…) I mean, what in John Brown’s name is wrong with me? Tonight I’m going to meet a friend after work, so this will be especially challenging, but I’m telling you now, as you people are my witnesses, I am going to do everything within my power to go to bed on time tonight and get up on time tomorrow.

And if I don’t? Well… we can discuss my punishment later (wink).