Yeah, I know this weblog is on the internet and, therefore, available for anyone and everyone to read. And, yeah, I know that I have a link to it on my facebook page, which makes it even more likely that this would become anything more than my own personal web diary: weekend edition. But I had no expectation that anyone other than Beth would read this because I explicitly told her about it. I mean, believe me, I had in the back of my mind that maybe someone special would read it and be like "hey, you're sense of humor is delightful. how would you feel about coming to write for me for money? like more money than you make now. and you know what we want you so much we'll pay for your student loans. straight up." "deal."
Not yet. Cross fingers.
But this is still in its infancy. Or maybe on its deathbed. Because people actually read this and that is uncomfortable to me because I feel right now while typing that I am talking to an audience and audiences make me uncomfortable. Where are my lady clothes? And the fact that people do read this is totally unexpected to me because I neither expect anyone to pay attention to me on facebook, let alone click on anything that is on there once they are there, nor care to read what I have to say about my weekend. Maybe that is me being uncharacteristically modest. Or characteristically naive. Or both. Or apathetic. Now all of the above?
I digress.
But thanks for reading, though.
I should fictionalize this more.
Speaking of fiction, you should see the movie Win Win. It's a very pleasurable motion picture. Minus the fact that it takes place in New Jersey (reader burn).
Well, the "rapture" didn't happen on Saturday. Or maybe it did but no one on earth qualified to be raptured. Think about that one. Except maybe some guy living in the mountains of Caucasus living completely off the land doing no harm to neither earth nor animals nor people eating his berries, or whatever they eat in the Caucasus, and, BOOM, he's naked floating upward. Now he's never heard of the jesus so he's like "well, this is unexpected" and he gets up there and the jesus is like "congratulations you've been raptured, bitch!" And he's like "OK, well I don't speak English [this is in his Caucasus language] and I'm feeling a little homesick and my ears feel funny [he's never flown before so he doesn't know about how the altitude change will make your ears pop] so can I go back to where I came from?" And the jesus is all confused and thinking maybe he got the wrong guy like in those arcade grab machines when you have your eye on the awesome basketball but that stupid pink rabbit gets in the way. But, no, there is no pink rabbit here. That guy just had everything he could have ever wanted or needed down there so how could he ever imagine transcending that and imagine the existence of a heaven? He couldn't. He even had a pet panda bear. Can't beat that.
Anyway, Saturday was pretty rapturous. I once knew someone whose favorite word was rapture. I bet it's not anymore. Swamp season swept into the district this weekend so the weather was conducive for being outside. So after our football game Saturday a roommate, pseudo roommate, and I decided to keep up the activeness and went down to the turf field down the street from our house with a softball bat, baseball, lacrosse sticks/ball, football and tee in tow. There is this guy that I know that is a bad influence. Point and case: "punch buggy no punch backs". So the roommate and I are on our way down and at the corner of 13th and Lamont there are four punch buggies, aka anarchy. One of them is a cream colored one. We are both calling punch buggies and swinging. The guy in the cream VW Beetle convertible is laughing. He drives on when the light turns green and this random guy that is walking by is like "That's Jim Graham, our city councilman." Has that ever happened to you? I didn't think so. And I am out of shape so the activeness didn't last long.
A lot of peoples' parents must have mourned the end of summer about 25-30 years ago by humping each other without protection because like everyone--all the cool ones, at least--was born in May. So we celebrate some bdays at peoples' apartments and local bars. But we are all now addicted to tobacco so we bail and go home to smoke the hookah. Someone thinks of making it a night by also making it a water coloring session, so we stop by the local art/grocery store to pick up the supplies. Someone draws a unicorn, another the Taj Mahal. But my favorite was a plate of tiny cheeses in the shape of a young jesus entitled, "sweet baby cheeses." Then I get to bed because I have to meet my mentee/high school friend the next day to go see the play "The Apple Cart."
But my mentee/high school friend is lame and says he can't make it because he has "finals to study for," or something like that. But I catch my roommate the patriarch of the house/reputable DC socialite available so he agrees to go with me. The play is a political satire that is riveting to the extent neither of us catch ourselves dozing off but both impressed by the ability of the actors to memorize their monologues. And on the way back to the metro, as usually happens when I leave the house in parts of town that I do not frequent--this time Mt. Vernon--we stop at a bar, The Passenger. It's quaint and cozy and he knows the bartender so the waitstaff was friendly too. Suck on that rapture.
Then I am feeling extra lazy when we get home and am in no mood to cook food. Luckily, Super Best Friend (SBF--self-proclaimed) is going down to Julia's for an empanada, which I have never had before. (It was tasty and cheap.) On the way there he says I should write about this in my blog. So it's come to that.
Anyway.
Spoiler alert: next weekend is probably going to be like the best weekend ever.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Rud's Going Away Party 2011
Do you remember how I said it would be an awesome way to make a living being a rock star that got to go on stage wearing tight pants and act like a crazy person while playing good music? Well let's add my affinity for wearing make-up, and female attire in general, to the list of reasons I would make an awesome rock star.
Also, do you remember when I told you how my roommate was moving to Japan? Well, he is. So we had a Japanese themed party fit with 200 pieces of sushi, 18 liters of sake (on a related note if anyone wants some sake we have about 15 liters of sake for the taking), 4 cases of Sapporo, and one geisha--the latterest of which was I.
Why the affinity for weird clothes/cross-dressing? I will tell you what it is: see, I am not the biggest fan of who I am as a person--which, incidentally, is why I am so OK with not having a heart because if you don't like me I'm all like "yeah, you're a little late for that. i haven't liked me for like 20 years now."--so any chance I get to be someone else (a lady geisha, for example) I take it. There was a party once where a friend asked to switch clothes. I was wearing skinny jeans and a polo and she a nice summer dress. We went into some random person's room at this party, where we didn't really know too many people, and came out cross-dressed. I can't explain the reason for that occurrence too well, but I used to have a nice lady body. Anyway, 15 seconds of moderate to very uncomfortableness and several disapproving looks later, we changed back. So I hear Japanese themed party and I automatically commit to being the requisite geisha. All you other girls can be the slutty Japanese school girls if you want a female role in this party.
No one I know in the DC metropolitan area owns a feminine enough kimono for me so I figure I will just go and buy flowery bath robe at the local Target. Well, the person who set up the women's section in Target must have just watched Silence of the Lambs or something and was thinking "We are not trying to have any creepsters like that guy that kept the woman in the well in Silence of the Lambs coming in my Target looking for a woman's bath robe so I am going to make it as awkward as possible for someone even thinking about it by putting the robes in with other women's "intimate" apparel." Touche Target store organizer. I am that creepster and I was uncomfortable.
For the ladies, if you are looking for anything other than a plain bath robe from Target or Bed Bath and Beyond you will be unsuccessful. But they are located with the other ladies' garments in Target though, FYI.
My last chance was Marshall's. No luck with the bath robes. HOWEVER. I did find quite the flowery and soft throw blanket and a matching pink scarf to boot as a belt. Throw in some kids face painting pencils and safety pins and you have yourself a geisha. Although I would say a more accurate description would be the Joker from Batman on a cold, wintry night as the "face paint" was merely uneven crayon markings on my face while being wrapped in a kitschy, feminine blanket. Whatever, though, I didn't see you dressed up as anything. Maybe that's because you like who you are. What's that like?
This night also happened to be a little tryout for potential roommates. One girl, one guy, and another guy that I was unaware was coming so did not know he was in the running until it was awkward a little later. Well, long story short, the girl is real cool, the guy threw up on our steps. So Alexander Rud is being replaced by a girl and Jared has competition for the most feminine in the house. I know what you're thinking: "How can someone be more feminine than you who just words ago mentioned an affinity for women's clothes and make-up?" I don't know, I didn't vote.
So I go to bed and at 330am I remember I need to hydrate myself because we have a touch football game soon. So I get up to get some water and I hear a roommate and friend playing beer pong. The friend has a wife on an extended stay in Israel right now from where he just came and hookahs are quite common. He says he hears I have a hookah. I tell him I do and ask if he wants to go play with it. Hookah is lit and we go out for a session and then another roommate and gf come out. Next thing you know grilling out hot dogs is mentioned and, boom, 5am grill-out and hookah session ensues.
Needless to say, we didn't make it to the touch football game in time. But we did get there in time enough for the other team to want to just play off the record, which we won. So we have that going for us.
Then I came home and took a 5 hour nap because it was raining and I can.
Here are my thoughts on eating animals because this is about me not you: I believe that we, as intellectually advanced human beings with the ability to domesticate and care humanely for animals as well as kill humanely said animals, have the right to do just that. Factory farms, from which most meat and dairy comes nowadays, do not comply with the above philosophy. I do not believe we have a right to torture animals, which factory farms are doing on an enormous scale, so I rarely buy meat products unless I know they were not tortured. [But I have a weakness for chinese buffets so sometimes I make exceptions/turn a blind mind towards my convictions.] Yeah, you're thinking "So you don't believe in torturing animals but you do believe in killing them? And isn't 'kill humanely' and oxymoron" Yes, I do and not to me. The cessation of life for creatures does not concern me, it is how that life is lived that concerns me. Granted, I couldn't kill an animal (remember that silly groundhog that crossed the highway, or at least I hope it did?), but I also couldn't perform surgery on a human being because vomit in a wound is probably not sanitary, but I wouldn't recommend doing away with surgery. Do you follow? Whatev. It makes sense to me.
Anyway. So I thought, "I'm not doing anything tonight [Saturday] so I am going to go down the the organic food store and buy some truly organic meat and cheese and have me a nice dinner." So I did and, well, it started pouring as I went to go and grill. Maybe the jesus was trying to tell me something. Probably not though, so I grilled out anyway.
Speaking of the jesus, I was in bed by midnight because I had to go to church on Sunday. And this time I am telling the truth. It was a unitarian universalist church where believing in god is optional, but an early Sunday morning church adventure nonetheless.
Once upon a time, a unitarian universalist church in Arlington, VA sponsored me to be a human rights observer in Guatemala for six months. Well, this church asked me to come back on behalf of these human rights observers they sponsor. When I first started working at the Treasury I remember sitting in my cubicle literally asking myself, "How did I get here? This time last year I was hiking through the mountains of central Guatemala checking in on survivors of a genocide campaign." Well, I came back to the US when the economy was on a swift course downhill in which nonprofits weren't hiring much, I had (have) no real tangible talents/skills to convince an employer I would be a valuable addition to their place of work, and I just so happened to have an aunt and uncle that knew someone in the Treasury that was hiring. So when people at the church asked me what I was doing now expecting something that would follow logically from an experience as a human rights observer, I lied and told them I was the Deputy Ambassador to Honduras because after the coup there no one wanted to go, so I, given my experience in Cental America, volunteered my skills of borderline fluency in Spanish and love for street vendor tacos.
Just kidding. I would never lie in the house of god, even if believing in god in this version of his house is optional. Really I told the truth and added the caveat that I would be going to law school soon to be a public interest lawyer so they wouldn't feel they wasted their money sponsoring me, and because it's the truth. (Times are tough out there still though, so, believe me, I am very grateful for the job that I do have.)
Then, after church, because I was awake and there is always stuff like this going on in the city, I went to the International Vegetarian Food Festival to cleanse my guilt of the steak I bought the night before and ate until I was extremely uncomfortable for the second time this weekend, the first time being with the sushi platter Friday (who knew you could get full off of sushi).
Also, do you remember when I told you how my roommate was moving to Japan? Well, he is. So we had a Japanese themed party fit with 200 pieces of sushi, 18 liters of sake (on a related note if anyone wants some sake we have about 15 liters of sake for the taking), 4 cases of Sapporo, and one geisha--the latterest of which was I.
Why the affinity for weird clothes/cross-dressing? I will tell you what it is: see, I am not the biggest fan of who I am as a person--which, incidentally, is why I am so OK with not having a heart because if you don't like me I'm all like "yeah, you're a little late for that. i haven't liked me for like 20 years now."--so any chance I get to be someone else (a lady geisha, for example) I take it. There was a party once where a friend asked to switch clothes. I was wearing skinny jeans and a polo and she a nice summer dress. We went into some random person's room at this party, where we didn't really know too many people, and came out cross-dressed. I can't explain the reason for that occurrence too well, but I used to have a nice lady body. Anyway, 15 seconds of moderate to very uncomfortableness and several disapproving looks later, we changed back. So I hear Japanese themed party and I automatically commit to being the requisite geisha. All you other girls can be the slutty Japanese school girls if you want a female role in this party.
No one I know in the DC metropolitan area owns a feminine enough kimono for me so I figure I will just go and buy flowery bath robe at the local Target. Well, the person who set up the women's section in Target must have just watched Silence of the Lambs or something and was thinking "We are not trying to have any creepsters like that guy that kept the woman in the well in Silence of the Lambs coming in my Target looking for a woman's bath robe so I am going to make it as awkward as possible for someone even thinking about it by putting the robes in with other women's "intimate" apparel." Touche Target store organizer. I am that creepster and I was uncomfortable.
For the ladies, if you are looking for anything other than a plain bath robe from Target or Bed Bath and Beyond you will be unsuccessful. But they are located with the other ladies' garments in Target though, FYI.
My last chance was Marshall's. No luck with the bath robes. HOWEVER. I did find quite the flowery and soft throw blanket and a matching pink scarf to boot as a belt. Throw in some kids face painting pencils and safety pins and you have yourself a geisha. Although I would say a more accurate description would be the Joker from Batman on a cold, wintry night as the "face paint" was merely uneven crayon markings on my face while being wrapped in a kitschy, feminine blanket. Whatever, though, I didn't see you dressed up as anything. Maybe that's because you like who you are. What's that like?
This night also happened to be a little tryout for potential roommates. One girl, one guy, and another guy that I was unaware was coming so did not know he was in the running until it was awkward a little later. Well, long story short, the girl is real cool, the guy threw up on our steps. So Alexander Rud is being replaced by a girl and Jared has competition for the most feminine in the house. I know what you're thinking: "How can someone be more feminine than you who just words ago mentioned an affinity for women's clothes and make-up?" I don't know, I didn't vote.
So I go to bed and at 330am I remember I need to hydrate myself because we have a touch football game soon. So I get up to get some water and I hear a roommate and friend playing beer pong. The friend has a wife on an extended stay in Israel right now from where he just came and hookahs are quite common. He says he hears I have a hookah. I tell him I do and ask if he wants to go play with it. Hookah is lit and we go out for a session and then another roommate and gf come out. Next thing you know grilling out hot dogs is mentioned and, boom, 5am grill-out and hookah session ensues.
Needless to say, we didn't make it to the touch football game in time. But we did get there in time enough for the other team to want to just play off the record, which we won. So we have that going for us.
Then I came home and took a 5 hour nap because it was raining and I can.
Here are my thoughts on eating animals because this is about me not you: I believe that we, as intellectually advanced human beings with the ability to domesticate and care humanely for animals as well as kill humanely said animals, have the right to do just that. Factory farms, from which most meat and dairy comes nowadays, do not comply with the above philosophy. I do not believe we have a right to torture animals, which factory farms are doing on an enormous scale, so I rarely buy meat products unless I know they were not tortured. [But I have a weakness for chinese buffets so sometimes I make exceptions/turn a blind mind towards my convictions.] Yeah, you're thinking "So you don't believe in torturing animals but you do believe in killing them? And isn't 'kill humanely' and oxymoron" Yes, I do and not to me. The cessation of life for creatures does not concern me, it is how that life is lived that concerns me. Granted, I couldn't kill an animal (remember that silly groundhog that crossed the highway, or at least I hope it did?), but I also couldn't perform surgery on a human being because vomit in a wound is probably not sanitary, but I wouldn't recommend doing away with surgery. Do you follow? Whatev. It makes sense to me.
Anyway. So I thought, "I'm not doing anything tonight [Saturday] so I am going to go down the the organic food store and buy some truly organic meat and cheese and have me a nice dinner." So I did and, well, it started pouring as I went to go and grill. Maybe the jesus was trying to tell me something. Probably not though, so I grilled out anyway.
Speaking of the jesus, I was in bed by midnight because I had to go to church on Sunday. And this time I am telling the truth. It was a unitarian universalist church where believing in god is optional, but an early Sunday morning church adventure nonetheless.
Once upon a time, a unitarian universalist church in Arlington, VA sponsored me to be a human rights observer in Guatemala for six months. Well, this church asked me to come back on behalf of these human rights observers they sponsor. When I first started working at the Treasury I remember sitting in my cubicle literally asking myself, "How did I get here? This time last year I was hiking through the mountains of central Guatemala checking in on survivors of a genocide campaign." Well, I came back to the US when the economy was on a swift course downhill in which nonprofits weren't hiring much, I had (have) no real tangible talents/skills to convince an employer I would be a valuable addition to their place of work, and I just so happened to have an aunt and uncle that knew someone in the Treasury that was hiring. So when people at the church asked me what I was doing now expecting something that would follow logically from an experience as a human rights observer, I lied and told them I was the Deputy Ambassador to Honduras because after the coup there no one wanted to go, so I, given my experience in Cental America, volunteered my skills of borderline fluency in Spanish and love for street vendor tacos.
Just kidding. I would never lie in the house of god, even if believing in god in this version of his house is optional. Really I told the truth and added the caveat that I would be going to law school soon to be a public interest lawyer so they wouldn't feel they wasted their money sponsoring me, and because it's the truth. (Times are tough out there still though, so, believe me, I am very grateful for the job that I do have.)
Then, after church, because I was awake and there is always stuff like this going on in the city, I went to the International Vegetarian Food Festival to cleanse my guilt of the steak I bought the night before and ate until I was extremely uncomfortable for the second time this weekend, the first time being with the sushi platter Friday (who knew you could get full off of sushi).
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Mothers' Day 2011
So I guess things are going to change now that I am 26.
One of the first conversations I had upon returning back to Pennsylvania for Mothers' Day this weekend went like this:
Me: Yeah I feel kind of old now that I am 26. I have never really cared about going up a year in life on May 3rd, and I still don't, but being 26 feels kind of old.
Older Sister: Yeah you're closer to 30 now.
Me: Than what, yesterday? Obviously. Why do you speak?
Mother: So I have children aged 28, 26, 24 yet no grandchildren, in-laws, or any prospect for either.
Me: Whatever, mother, this isn't 1979. Take it easy or I will make you a grandmother to an illegitimate child embroiled in a custody battle (because that thing will inevitably be cute as the dickens and fun so I will want it most of the time) with someone that you probably won't approve of because what kind of decent human being would let me impregnate them pre-marriage? So just take the grandmother wishes down a notch. Besides, you were 29 when you had your first child and, who knows, maybe Les is pregnant. (No chance. Her body is no bigger than the "I" within those quotes.)
Or something like that. But do you see where all the lady/baby talk comes from. Age.
But really I didn't have the heart to tell her that I have a marriage lined up. It's called law school and my future law career where I work 16 hours a day and hone in on something meaningful so as to feel as if I have a purpose in life/forget about the madness that is humanity in places other than where I am practicing.
In a related note, you know what else comes with the higher number as the answer to "how old are you"? Maturity.
Relevance:
Syria came up this weekend. It was said that the president is misunderstood and that it is just a few people that are unhappy with him. In a previous year in my life this would have triggered a rapid and stern rebuke probably containing the words 'you' and 'are' and 'an' and 'idiot.' But not this time. Granted, saying something like that about something like this (yes, sharpshooters were employed) is well deserving of being called an idiot. But I am older and more poised now, so I shrugged it off and picked a larger battle. Like finally going to the bar, which was not the casino for once. 26!
Father once said to me that, if it were up to him, he would just drop a nuclear bomb on Afghanistan to ensure that any and all "terrorists" were killed, including Osamy. This all started because my younger sister is a real-life aspiring "army wife" and I said something like "we're spending something like $1 billion per suspected remaining member of al-Qaeda a year. If we redeployed all those soldiers over there chasing all 100 (actual number according to this article) of those "terrorists" and spent that money on something more productive like education either over there or here--or both, ideally--then maybe sister wouldn't romanticize a relationship with someone who literally signs a contract to kill people if asked." So when father asked if I was one of the ones down at the White House celebrating bin laden's death, I said "no" because I am all poised now not to fly off the handle and start arguing and wanting to avoid another statement of ignorance like feeling nuclear bombs are the answer to anything but a Jeopardy question to the answer of "this was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945," but was thinking "who celebrates a death? feeling relieved is one thing, but actively celebrating is another. believe me I understand the world just might be a better place, but that's millions spent hunting what was probably a figure head (and it seems we were surprised he was marginally more than that) that may or may not have been killed unarmed for the sake of saving the US money it would have had to spend on his trial."
Or maybe I didn't say anything because I knew I had this outlet on which I could vent. Sorry, I promise I did not have any intention of soap boxing to this extent, but I always end up writing much more than I anticipate. But I feel if I delete what I have written before reading over it again it's a waste of those digital letters already typed.
So father said Sunday that I was like the daughter he never had. We went to the grocery store (where I bought a razor for my face. Is that really something you want your daughter doing, father, shaving her face? I hope not!). Then to the bike store to buy a bike helmet because walking is hard and I ride a bike very similarly to how I drive a car, as described below. But it was closed. Then we went to the farmers' market because Hellertown is becoming a cool cat kind of town like that. At the grocery store father actively sought out people he knew to say hi. At the farmers' market I saw two people I knew and actively sought ways to make sure eye contact was not made so as to avoid small talk at all costs. Later a neighbor said the apple does not fall too far from the tree with he and I, which, physically, it does not because we look alike. But someone must have kicked the apple once it was on the ground. Maybe it was a groundhog.
Speaking of groundhogs:
So I drove back to DC yesterday.
I am on 83 going south. I see what I first think is like a leaf or some other inanimate object floating across the highway ahead. But it's moving too rhythmically to be inanimate. And I am going like 70. Then I'm like "O NO SQUIRREL. PLEASE MOVE SQUIRREL." But this is no squirrel. This is something much dumber. Then I am like "NO GROUNDHOG. MOVE GROUNDHOG." Somewhere around this time I calculate that I purchased insurance this time, which I never do. The jc must have seen something like this coming. I know there is a BMW in the left lane and I am in the right, swiftly approaching this groundhog that, for some reason, evolution felt sorry for and kept in the system (Although, I once saw a groundhog climb a tree after my old dog chased it through my back yard and it was either 'pull a feat a groundhog has never done before' or 'be gutted by wolf-dog, Rebel'. Then it plopped down off the branch it ran up on after I managed to lure Rebel back in the house and scurried away with heart problems thereafter, probably--only speculating.). Anyway, if I have a heart it cares much more about animals than probably my and other human beings' well-being because I blindly swerved out of my lane merely hoping the BMW was not so close that I dot the final 'i' in this perfect textbook case of "Anatomy of a Car Crash: 14 billionth edition." O and I was on the phone, too. But the big publisher upstairs was not having this textbook as the BMW passed without even a honk and at least I was not responsible for the groundhog's death. And as far as I could see no one behind me was either.
But, seriously, groundhog, wtf are you doing pitter-pattering across the highway like that, you adorable big ole dummy.
Anyway, I have always said this, and it explains my prerequisite to live in a place from here on out in life (until I am senile enough to not remember that I am a terrible driver) with adequate public transport: I should not be allowed to drive.
One of the first conversations I had upon returning back to Pennsylvania for Mothers' Day this weekend went like this:
Me: Yeah I feel kind of old now that I am 26. I have never really cared about going up a year in life on May 3rd, and I still don't, but being 26 feels kind of old.
Older Sister: Yeah you're closer to 30 now.
Me: Than what, yesterday? Obviously. Why do you speak?
Mother: So I have children aged 28, 26, 24 yet no grandchildren, in-laws, or any prospect for either.
Me: Whatever, mother, this isn't 1979. Take it easy or I will make you a grandmother to an illegitimate child embroiled in a custody battle (because that thing will inevitably be cute as the dickens and fun so I will want it most of the time) with someone that you probably won't approve of because what kind of decent human being would let me impregnate them pre-marriage? So just take the grandmother wishes down a notch. Besides, you were 29 when you had your first child and, who knows, maybe Les is pregnant. (No chance. Her body is no bigger than the "I" within those quotes.)
Or something like that. But do you see where all the lady/baby talk comes from. Age.
But really I didn't have the heart to tell her that I have a marriage lined up. It's called law school and my future law career where I work 16 hours a day and hone in on something meaningful so as to feel as if I have a purpose in life/forget about the madness that is humanity in places other than where I am practicing.
In a related note, you know what else comes with the higher number as the answer to "how old are you"? Maturity.
Relevance:
Syria came up this weekend. It was said that the president is misunderstood and that it is just a few people that are unhappy with him. In a previous year in my life this would have triggered a rapid and stern rebuke probably containing the words 'you' and 'are' and 'an' and 'idiot.' But not this time. Granted, saying something like that about something like this (yes, sharpshooters were employed) is well deserving of being called an idiot. But I am older and more poised now, so I shrugged it off and picked a larger battle. Like finally going to the bar, which was not the casino for once. 26!
Father once said to me that, if it were up to him, he would just drop a nuclear bomb on Afghanistan to ensure that any and all "terrorists" were killed, including Osamy. This all started because my younger sister is a real-life aspiring "army wife" and I said something like "we're spending something like $1 billion per suspected remaining member of al-Qaeda a year. If we redeployed all those soldiers over there chasing all 100 (actual number according to this article) of those "terrorists" and spent that money on something more productive like education either over there or here--or both, ideally--then maybe sister wouldn't romanticize a relationship with someone who literally signs a contract to kill people if asked." So when father asked if I was one of the ones down at the White House celebrating bin laden's death, I said "no" because I am all poised now not to fly off the handle and start arguing and wanting to avoid another statement of ignorance like feeling nuclear bombs are the answer to anything but a Jeopardy question to the answer of "this was dropped on Hiroshima in 1945," but was thinking "who celebrates a death? feeling relieved is one thing, but actively celebrating is another. believe me I understand the world just might be a better place, but that's millions spent hunting what was probably a figure head (and it seems we were surprised he was marginally more than that) that may or may not have been killed unarmed for the sake of saving the US money it would have had to spend on his trial."
Or maybe I didn't say anything because I knew I had this outlet on which I could vent. Sorry, I promise I did not have any intention of soap boxing to this extent, but I always end up writing much more than I anticipate. But I feel if I delete what I have written before reading over it again it's a waste of those digital letters already typed.
So father said Sunday that I was like the daughter he never had. We went to the grocery store (where I bought a razor for my face. Is that really something you want your daughter doing, father, shaving her face? I hope not!). Then to the bike store to buy a bike helmet because walking is hard and I ride a bike very similarly to how I drive a car, as described below. But it was closed. Then we went to the farmers' market because Hellertown is becoming a cool cat kind of town like that. At the grocery store father actively sought out people he knew to say hi. At the farmers' market I saw two people I knew and actively sought ways to make sure eye contact was not made so as to avoid small talk at all costs. Later a neighbor said the apple does not fall too far from the tree with he and I, which, physically, it does not because we look alike. But someone must have kicked the apple once it was on the ground. Maybe it was a groundhog.
Speaking of groundhogs:
So I drove back to DC yesterday.
I am on 83 going south. I see what I first think is like a leaf or some other inanimate object floating across the highway ahead. But it's moving too rhythmically to be inanimate. And I am going like 70. Then I'm like "O NO SQUIRREL. PLEASE MOVE SQUIRREL." But this is no squirrel. This is something much dumber. Then I am like "NO GROUNDHOG. MOVE GROUNDHOG." Somewhere around this time I calculate that I purchased insurance this time, which I never do. The jc must have seen something like this coming. I know there is a BMW in the left lane and I am in the right, swiftly approaching this groundhog that, for some reason, evolution felt sorry for and kept in the system (Although, I once saw a groundhog climb a tree after my old dog chased it through my back yard and it was either 'pull a feat a groundhog has never done before' or 'be gutted by wolf-dog, Rebel'. Then it plopped down off the branch it ran up on after I managed to lure Rebel back in the house and scurried away with heart problems thereafter, probably--only speculating.). Anyway, if I have a heart it cares much more about animals than probably my and other human beings' well-being because I blindly swerved out of my lane merely hoping the BMW was not so close that I dot the final 'i' in this perfect textbook case of "Anatomy of a Car Crash: 14 billionth edition." O and I was on the phone, too. But the big publisher upstairs was not having this textbook as the BMW passed without even a honk and at least I was not responsible for the groundhog's death. And as far as I could see no one behind me was either.
But, seriously, groundhog, wtf are you doing pitter-pattering across the highway like that, you adorable big ole dummy.
Anyway, I have always said this, and it explains my prerequisite to live in a place from here on out in life (until I am senile enough to not remember that I am a terrible driver) with adequate public transport: I should not be allowed to drive.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Sweet Life Fest 2011
Did I watch the royal wedding? No. No, I did not watch at 4am an overly ostentatious wedding of two people that I have never met. I don't even really care about the wedding part of my friends' weddings. I'm more of a reception guy myself. Was I invited to the royal reception. Yeah, let me tell you about here. Just kidding. Obviously I was not. I'm pretty sure I would not have student loan debt if I were the type of person to get invited to the royal wedding/reception.
Anyway. I was almost hit by a motorized wheel chair on Friday. Do you know what a motorized wheelchair going +/-13mph would do to your ACL? Luckily, I can't tell you. I also can't tell you the protocol on being angry about almost getting hit by a motorized wheel chair. I wanted to be like "damn lady you're driving like a crazy person in this crowded metro station, which is not advisable." But life has obviously been a little cruel to her to eliminate the use of her legs so I figured I should just shrug this one off and walk away because I can, thankfully. But I don't know, maybe I have a right to be at least a little angry about this lady's crazy wheelchair driving. I don't know the emotional protocol of these situations. And it was established a while back that I am insensitive so no need to be surprised by this paragraph.
So we had a party at our house on Saturday. I'm sorry you couldn't make it. This, however, was a perfect excuse to bring out the party pants again, which happen to fit again. So there was a long night of lunging at any opportunity that arose, which it turns out is never really fitting but I managed to do it like 30 times to prove their stretchiness. But the purpose of the party for others was drinking games. I only like the drinking games where I can throw things like beer pong or this game we call "can 'n ball" (get it, like cannon ball) because that's like the only thing I'm good at in life. So this one that we call "slappin' the base" because we were watching the movie I Love You Man one time while playing it, which is more commonly called "slap cup", is not one of my favorites. I like to call it "the worst" because it is the worst drinking game ever. And this is directly related to the fact that I suck and I have terrible friends that like to exploit this fact. So there was that. Then we moved on to can 'n ball. And then, for some reason, Joe-from-home and I got into a little battle of throwing this little foam soccer ball at each other. Then there was hookah and that was that.
If curing a hangover counts as being medicinal, I think the FDA should approve pho as a medicine. I am a weekly test patient and it works. Like yesterday when I needed to be good to go to the Sweet Life Fest where I knew I would be drinking more. So this is up in Columbia, MD at Merriweather Post Pavilion (yes, like the Animal Collective album), where I just so happen to have been spending an odd amount of time recently as my two roommates and I (one of whom is moving to Japan in like a month like a big ole DB, so if you or anyone you know that is cool, likes sports and competing in Jeopardy needs a place to live in DC, let me know) have been going to a great microbrew bar called Frisco on Wednesdays. The band, Ra Ra Riot, that I really wanted to see went on at 3 but we didn't leave until like 330. However, while getting ready to leave Joe-from-home's gf's apartment she had the concert streaming and the one song that I wanted most to see was playing at that moment. So that worked out and kind of makes you believe in the god huh? Incidentally, pretty lady from Ra Ra Riot, if you are reading this, and I know you are, do you want to hang out like forever? Cool.
Speaking of wanting to hang out with people forever, shortly after we got to the festival, where it was cold and raining and both of which I was completely unprepared for because I am an idiot and assumed that because it was at a place with pavilion in the title I wouldn't be out in the rain. False assumption. So shortly after we get there I see this lady with really nice eyes and I almost walked up to her and was like "Hi, I couldn't help but notice you have really nice eyes. I just wanted to tell you that if I could spend the rest of my life looking into your eyes I would consider that a life well spent." And then she would be like "If I had to spend the rest of my life with someone staring at me I would consider that a life very unproductive and annoying." Then I would be like "Touche nice eyed lady. How about I don't stare at you forever but we just hangout forever and make babies and such like normal people?" And she would be like "Based on your first sentence to me, you sound like a real creepster so no that would not be agreeable." Good thing I didn't go up to her.
Joe-from-home's gf said only one of us could slide down the hill because she only had one blanket in her car that we could use to keep from getting it all wet. I called dibs. I then dove down the hill and proceeded to knock the wind out of myself. I don't know how baseball players do it because that hurt like the dickens. And my phone fell out of my pocket but luckily Joe saw it. I have heard that some animals will go off in the wilderness alone to die and I can't help but feel that my phone is trying to get away like that to go die somewhere.
Then Crystal Castles came on and I don't know if you remember me telling you how my dream job would be to not have a job at all but be rich with all the free time in the world. Well Crystal Castles has me reconsidering because I think it would be pretty awesome to be able to go on stage, play awesome music, and act like a crazy person. I think I would be good at that based on how my dancing went after the wedding last week and my affinity for tight pants.
Then there was this lady with a baby there with huge headphones on, or whatever you call noise-reducing things for your ears. Either way she's a terrible mother. Remember how I told you about the cold and the rain? Well this thing looked like it was right out the womb, fortunately not literally though because that would be gross. But yea I mean I respect this woman's ambition to not let this child get in the way of her living her life as if she didn't have an infant depending on her. No I don't. Go home lady. Take a little time off of the loud, bad weather concerts and make sure your child is healthy for at least its first 5 weeks of life. Amateurs.
Anyway. So they were a little unprepared with the food situation there. We wandered all about looking for food and finally found a place that had 12% of what it was advertising compared to the 0% at like every other place. It was in this line that Joe-from-home said hey there's a girl over there I think you would like. She was attractive so I was like "if by my type you mean attractive otherwise I am curious as to why you say that?" "Well she looks like how you described that girl you liked in South Africa." I was thinking it's not polite to bring up the 'dead to me' but, yea, she did. I think Joe described her as "wholesome" but really I saw the resemblance in the fact she was wearing these uniquely patterned clothes.
Moving on. Recently someone was talking about how they inconveniently came across this non-profit called Fallen Whistles. I couldn't think of it at the time but after a little research I found out it was at a happy hour for our touch football league where they were at, which is a little odd. Anyway, they had a booth right next to the food place so, me enjoying myself here so much, I ended up donating some money. It is a child soldier (they blow whistles to warn of coming enemies) and free and fair election in the Congo advocacy organization and those are good causes. So I don't regret not having that money any more. I do regret blowing the symbolic whistle they give you though later as that was probably a little inappropriate.
Then I rubbed my left eye a little too vigorously and lost my contact so I threw my right one out too. Could have done without that.
Then Lupe Fiasco came on and I am not a fan of his rap music but I do agree with his politics, which made his set interesting as he soap boxed it a little too, calling Donald Trump crazy because he is.
Then Girl Talk came on and I lost faith in humanity a little bit more. This point in the show was the only low one though. I felt like I was the only one there that realized it was not talent or entertaining to ADDly mash a bunch of terrible songs together and have people come up on the stage to distract the audience from realizing you're not doing anything but hook up your laptop to a fancy sound system. Girl Talk, you're a talentless fraud and I hate you for being the low point in my day of many high points. Luckily there was beer sold at this place so I tried to get to the bar as many times as possible during this set including the one time when on the way back I slipped for like the 20th time and managed to keep both beers in my hands losing only about an inch from each (one was Joe's, I was not double fisting 24oz beers).
Speaking of high points, or what was a high point at the time but now with contact-aided hindsight may not have been that great of a moment. So I started wearing these girls' in front of us reusable grocery bag as a necklace. And, given the number of beers I have drank at this point, I manage to ask one of them to dance upon giving back their bag. The Strokes are now playing so we proceed to get our dance on and we're slipping and twirling. As far as I could see, which really was not very far at all, she was attractive so that was nice. And I remember she had a really soft sweater. And this is all great and fun. But then she asked me how old I was. I told her 26 on Tuesday because that's the truth, which is why the ladies are mentioned here more than normal because I am pretty sure I should have married/impregnated someone by now. She said 22. Sober me, however, is starting to doubt that. Joe and his gf never said anything like "hey btw that girl with whom you are dancing looks like she's 18" but given the age question was asked, I am starting to think I was mistaken for believing her being 22. Really I couldn't see her very well and couldn't tell you anything more about her than she was really thin and had big, dark, frizzy hair so I don't really have any reason to not believer her, but who asks that? Whatever. That happened.
Also, I recently finished reading the Lord of the Rings books so I wanted to watch the movies again too, which I did this weekend or at least the third one. That's 10 hours of my life I can't get back, unfortunately. Anyway, while watching I was thinking I would like to have a neat, shiny ring like that. Boom. Marriage is back on the table.
Anyway. I was almost hit by a motorized wheel chair on Friday. Do you know what a motorized wheelchair going +/-13mph would do to your ACL? Luckily, I can't tell you. I also can't tell you the protocol on being angry about almost getting hit by a motorized wheel chair. I wanted to be like "damn lady you're driving like a crazy person in this crowded metro station, which is not advisable." But life has obviously been a little cruel to her to eliminate the use of her legs so I figured I should just shrug this one off and walk away because I can, thankfully. But I don't know, maybe I have a right to be at least a little angry about this lady's crazy wheelchair driving. I don't know the emotional protocol of these situations. And it was established a while back that I am insensitive so no need to be surprised by this paragraph.
So we had a party at our house on Saturday. I'm sorry you couldn't make it. This, however, was a perfect excuse to bring out the party pants again, which happen to fit again. So there was a long night of lunging at any opportunity that arose, which it turns out is never really fitting but I managed to do it like 30 times to prove their stretchiness. But the purpose of the party for others was drinking games. I only like the drinking games where I can throw things like beer pong or this game we call "can 'n ball" (get it, like cannon ball) because that's like the only thing I'm good at in life. So this one that we call "slappin' the base" because we were watching the movie I Love You Man one time while playing it, which is more commonly called "slap cup", is not one of my favorites. I like to call it "the worst" because it is the worst drinking game ever. And this is directly related to the fact that I suck and I have terrible friends that like to exploit this fact. So there was that. Then we moved on to can 'n ball. And then, for some reason, Joe-from-home and I got into a little battle of throwing this little foam soccer ball at each other. Then there was hookah and that was that.
If curing a hangover counts as being medicinal, I think the FDA should approve pho as a medicine. I am a weekly test patient and it works. Like yesterday when I needed to be good to go to the Sweet Life Fest where I knew I would be drinking more. So this is up in Columbia, MD at Merriweather Post Pavilion (yes, like the Animal Collective album), where I just so happen to have been spending an odd amount of time recently as my two roommates and I (one of whom is moving to Japan in like a month like a big ole DB, so if you or anyone you know that is cool, likes sports and competing in Jeopardy needs a place to live in DC, let me know) have been going to a great microbrew bar called Frisco on Wednesdays. The band, Ra Ra Riot, that I really wanted to see went on at 3 but we didn't leave until like 330. However, while getting ready to leave Joe-from-home's gf's apartment she had the concert streaming and the one song that I wanted most to see was playing at that moment. So that worked out and kind of makes you believe in the god huh? Incidentally, pretty lady from Ra Ra Riot, if you are reading this, and I know you are, do you want to hang out like forever? Cool.
Speaking of wanting to hang out with people forever, shortly after we got to the festival, where it was cold and raining and both of which I was completely unprepared for because I am an idiot and assumed that because it was at a place with pavilion in the title I wouldn't be out in the rain. False assumption. So shortly after we get there I see this lady with really nice eyes and I almost walked up to her and was like "Hi, I couldn't help but notice you have really nice eyes. I just wanted to tell you that if I could spend the rest of my life looking into your eyes I would consider that a life well spent." And then she would be like "If I had to spend the rest of my life with someone staring at me I would consider that a life very unproductive and annoying." Then I would be like "Touche nice eyed lady. How about I don't stare at you forever but we just hangout forever and make babies and such like normal people?" And she would be like "Based on your first sentence to me, you sound like a real creepster so no that would not be agreeable." Good thing I didn't go up to her.
Joe-from-home's gf said only one of us could slide down the hill because she only had one blanket in her car that we could use to keep from getting it all wet. I called dibs. I then dove down the hill and proceeded to knock the wind out of myself. I don't know how baseball players do it because that hurt like the dickens. And my phone fell out of my pocket but luckily Joe saw it. I have heard that some animals will go off in the wilderness alone to die and I can't help but feel that my phone is trying to get away like that to go die somewhere.
Then Crystal Castles came on and I don't know if you remember me telling you how my dream job would be to not have a job at all but be rich with all the free time in the world. Well Crystal Castles has me reconsidering because I think it would be pretty awesome to be able to go on stage, play awesome music, and act like a crazy person. I think I would be good at that based on how my dancing went after the wedding last week and my affinity for tight pants.
Then there was this lady with a baby there with huge headphones on, or whatever you call noise-reducing things for your ears. Either way she's a terrible mother. Remember how I told you about the cold and the rain? Well this thing looked like it was right out the womb, fortunately not literally though because that would be gross. But yea I mean I respect this woman's ambition to not let this child get in the way of her living her life as if she didn't have an infant depending on her. No I don't. Go home lady. Take a little time off of the loud, bad weather concerts and make sure your child is healthy for at least its first 5 weeks of life. Amateurs.
Anyway. So they were a little unprepared with the food situation there. We wandered all about looking for food and finally found a place that had 12% of what it was advertising compared to the 0% at like every other place. It was in this line that Joe-from-home said hey there's a girl over there I think you would like. She was attractive so I was like "if by my type you mean attractive otherwise I am curious as to why you say that?" "Well she looks like how you described that girl you liked in South Africa." I was thinking it's not polite to bring up the 'dead to me' but, yea, she did. I think Joe described her as "wholesome" but really I saw the resemblance in the fact she was wearing these uniquely patterned clothes.
Moving on. Recently someone was talking about how they inconveniently came across this non-profit called Fallen Whistles. I couldn't think of it at the time but after a little research I found out it was at a happy hour for our touch football league where they were at, which is a little odd. Anyway, they had a booth right next to the food place so, me enjoying myself here so much, I ended up donating some money. It is a child soldier (they blow whistles to warn of coming enemies) and free and fair election in the Congo advocacy organization and those are good causes. So I don't regret not having that money any more. I do regret blowing the symbolic whistle they give you though later as that was probably a little inappropriate.
Then I rubbed my left eye a little too vigorously and lost my contact so I threw my right one out too. Could have done without that.
Then Lupe Fiasco came on and I am not a fan of his rap music but I do agree with his politics, which made his set interesting as he soap boxed it a little too, calling Donald Trump crazy because he is.
Then Girl Talk came on and I lost faith in humanity a little bit more. This point in the show was the only low one though. I felt like I was the only one there that realized it was not talent or entertaining to ADDly mash a bunch of terrible songs together and have people come up on the stage to distract the audience from realizing you're not doing anything but hook up your laptop to a fancy sound system. Girl Talk, you're a talentless fraud and I hate you for being the low point in my day of many high points. Luckily there was beer sold at this place so I tried to get to the bar as many times as possible during this set including the one time when on the way back I slipped for like the 20th time and managed to keep both beers in my hands losing only about an inch from each (one was Joe's, I was not double fisting 24oz beers).
Speaking of high points, or what was a high point at the time but now with contact-aided hindsight may not have been that great of a moment. So I started wearing these girls' in front of us reusable grocery bag as a necklace. And, given the number of beers I have drank at this point, I manage to ask one of them to dance upon giving back their bag. The Strokes are now playing so we proceed to get our dance on and we're slipping and twirling. As far as I could see, which really was not very far at all, she was attractive so that was nice. And I remember she had a really soft sweater. And this is all great and fun. But then she asked me how old I was. I told her 26 on Tuesday because that's the truth, which is why the ladies are mentioned here more than normal because I am pretty sure I should have married/impregnated someone by now. She said 22. Sober me, however, is starting to doubt that. Joe and his gf never said anything like "hey btw that girl with whom you are dancing looks like she's 18" but given the age question was asked, I am starting to think I was mistaken for believing her being 22. Really I couldn't see her very well and couldn't tell you anything more about her than she was really thin and had big, dark, frizzy hair so I don't really have any reason to not believer her, but who asks that? Whatever. That happened.
Also, I recently finished reading the Lord of the Rings books so I wanted to watch the movies again too, which I did this weekend or at least the third one. That's 10 hours of my life I can't get back, unfortunately. Anyway, while watching I was thinking I would like to have a neat, shiny ring like that. Boom. Marriage is back on the table.
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