I did, in fact, get a call about the skull card, but it was from my mom. In her stubbornness to put off getting glasses, things are often fuzzy, blurry, or just downright ridiculous looking through her eyes.
She called to congratulate me on sending the best card in the G-ma Birthday Competition (a spot formerly held by the Uncle Jeff, whom I temporarily dethroned).
My crown, however, was short-lived and soon revoked in the following way:
Mom: Your card was so funny. We loved your subtle message.
Me: Wha?
Mom: You know, all those skulls smoking cigarettes - we all tell her that she should quit, especially at her age, but your card really got the point across. A little morbid maybe don't you think!
(my family loves morbid - hence the best card award)
Me: Cigarettes?! You really are sick. Those are noise makers mom. The skulls are blowing them happily as in, "happy birthday!" Not as in, "Hey grandma, keep smoking and you'll end up like this!" Get some glasses crazy lady.
Mom: Oh, I guess it wasn't so funny after all.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Unremarkable Things
*This is the second time a precious black kitten has crossed my path and tried to be my buddy. I named him Wolf; he likes to thrash around on my porch and chase grass shadows.
*I have entered the GRE gauntlet. Equipped with the wisdom and anxiousness passed on to me by the Peachums, I hope to take the exam by mid-autumn.
*Other fascinating things I do to pass the time when it's too hot to wander around my neighborhood and the man is away climbing wind towers include: organizing kitchen and sock drawers, sorting bills into neat, hanging box bottom folders, re-staking and twining the tomato plants, writing out my vocabulary words, grooming the Stella.
*It's fair season: last weekend was the Glouster Chile Pepper Festival - thanks to Shannon and B-rod for sitting with me through two hours of an Elvis impersonator from Coshocton. I might also go the Ohio State Fair with Lizb and Mattm to see the butter cow. All my life living in such close proximity to the gooey heifer and I've never laid eyes on her - can you believe it?
*I have entered the GRE gauntlet. Equipped with the wisdom and anxiousness passed on to me by the Peachums, I hope to take the exam by mid-autumn.
*Other fascinating things I do to pass the time when it's too hot to wander around my neighborhood and the man is away climbing wind towers include: organizing kitchen and sock drawers, sorting bills into neat, hanging box bottom folders, re-staking and twining the tomato plants, writing out my vocabulary words, grooming the Stella.
*It's fair season: last weekend was the Glouster Chile Pepper Festival - thanks to Shannon and B-rod for sitting with me through two hours of an Elvis impersonator from Coshocton. I might also go the Ohio State Fair with Lizb and Mattm to see the butter cow. All my life living in such close proximity to the gooey heifer and I've never laid eyes on her - can you believe it?
Monday, July 30, 2007
Skulls, flames and party hats
Remember how 2007 is the year of the singing birthday card? Well, my grandma, Donna Jean, is the official winner of the "best piece of anything to arrive in your mailbox in a really long time" prize.
On Saturday I set out to find the perfect singing (and grandma appropriate) gem in the Hallmark aisle. Of course I settled on the one which blares "Bad to the Bone" when opened. The front, adorned with shiny orange flames and a skull blowing a party noise maker, challenges the seventy-something birthday gal: "It's your birthday - be bad." The real clincher that just screamed "Grandma" though was the skull wallpaper that covered both the inner flaps.
I can't wait for this phone call:
"Hello grandma! Happy birthday! What? Skulls?! I know nothing of it. No, definitely not appropriate for a grandmother's 73rd birthday..."
On Saturday I set out to find the perfect singing (and grandma appropriate) gem in the Hallmark aisle. Of course I settled on the one which blares "Bad to the Bone" when opened. The front, adorned with shiny orange flames and a skull blowing a party noise maker, challenges the seventy-something birthday gal: "It's your birthday - be bad." The real clincher that just screamed "Grandma" though was the skull wallpaper that covered both the inner flaps.
I can't wait for this phone call:
"Hello grandma! Happy birthday! What? Skulls?! I know nothing of it. No, definitely not appropriate for a grandmother's 73rd birthday..."
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Damn you, Matt Lauer
I shouldn't have the TV on in this perilous time of trying to avoid the HP ending. What was I thinking... Is it now supposed to be safe to just blurt out the ending of the book on national television! I guess they assume that all the hardcore fans have finished their books by now and won't be sending in hexed hate mail when this dude gives it away on air... Still, let's not discuss this until I'm done reading. I suck.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Potter Mania
[Dear Jessm,
I can't figure out how to leave a blognote for you, so here it is: I'm very very excited to see you. I bought my HP copy on Saturday and I'm about 1/3 of the way through it. After our conversation on the phone, I thought this would be best and now we can discuss it when you arrive! Although this weekend will be super fun, your visit marks the official start of some serious sadness: goodbye Jess, goodbye Sara, goodbye Max.]
For all of you other people out there who have held Harry off until now, both Brod and my mom have decided to read Harry Potter in the last few days. Why they've waited until now, I will never comprehend, but please understand: if my mom has caved, you [and those other last few holdouts] are next.
My goal right now is to speed through the remaining two-thirds before I hear some idiot blurt out the ending and ruin it for me.
I can't figure out how to leave a blognote for you, so here it is: I'm very very excited to see you. I bought my HP copy on Saturday and I'm about 1/3 of the way through it. After our conversation on the phone, I thought this would be best and now we can discuss it when you arrive! Although this weekend will be super fun, your visit marks the official start of some serious sadness: goodbye Jess, goodbye Sara, goodbye Max.]
For all of you other people out there who have held Harry off until now, both Brod and my mom have decided to read Harry Potter in the last few days. Why they've waited until now, I will never comprehend, but please understand: if my mom has caved, you [and those other last few holdouts] are next.
My goal right now is to speed through the remaining two-thirds before I hear some idiot blurt out the ending and ruin it for me.
Friday, July 20, 2007
At Contra Dancing for Beginners
I learned that I am extremely uncomfortable touching strange (meaning people I do not know) men. I had no problem 'allemand lefting' the ladies, but I really struggled with all the strange-man touching. Particularly, I think, because I am short and these men were tall, and they didn't understand where to put their hands on me. I also really hated the smell of lots of sweaty people spinning around, and all the different sweats combining on my palms was driving me insane. On a lighter note, my former boss spotted me in the midst of my contra lesson - we made brief eye contact and then I pretended to be engrossed in my circling left. No worries, no scene. After the first half hour of excruciating social awkwardness, I finally loosened up and had a good deal of fun. It was like square dancing with my handless middle school gym teacher, only less dumb and the music was better. The Peach, the Felsher and I all were pretty smooth with our moves by the end of the lesson I have to say. We are some sweet gypsy-dancing swingers. I can't wait to suck B-rod into the world of the contra next week - can you imagine it? Please do.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
And So It Begins...
Remember how there were a bazillion weddings last year? Well, the first wave of baby birthing from the wedding bonanza has naturally begun. Geesh.
I should make a formula. We already know my six + six = sex equation for dating, engagement and marriage. Maybe something like (# of bridesmaids) x (# of wedding cake tiers) - length of honeymoon = months of babylessness?
I should make a formula. We already know my six + six = sex equation for dating, engagement and marriage. Maybe something like (# of bridesmaids) x (# of wedding cake tiers) - length of honeymoon = months of babylessness?
A Long One About My Sur-reality
Sunday was strange. Upon arriving at church, we saw there was a guest pastor teaching that morning. He hailed from Portland, originally from Athens, home for a reunion. After the service there was a meeting downstairs in which we'd have a conversation and he would offer some advice for our own congregation. Soon after he began teaching that morning, we knew this was a meeting we should attend.
He spoke to us from his own experience pastoring an aging congregation in a university town, trying to offer some hope that mainline denominations don't have to "die out" - although blunt, this is literal in the case of our church it seems.
Rather, they can attract students, young adults and young families.
In our church, I would estimate the median age to be about, oh, 60. Looking around the sanctuary each week, B and I stick out quite obviously with our black hair, and people often say to me, "It's so nice to have you here. Thanks for visiting." When I explain that we're actually members of the church, they are both happily surprised and embarrassed.
The visiting pastor's message quickly transported us into the twilight zone - it was a brief yet on the money description of our generation and what we look for in choosing a church. The congregation absorbed this information so eagerly because it truly was foreign information to them (although it was the most familiar and in ways unsettling to both of us). He explained in the most elementary of terms the following about a so-called contemporary church -
Contemporary churches:
1. do not use hymnals, but project words onto a screen
2. have more movement in the worship - such as hand clapping
3. do not use pipe organs, but incorporate guitars and drum sets into worship
4. have an "enyay" (~) flow to the service - high energy worship followed by teaching, followed by the "rockin postlude" ending music; (rather than a long liturgy of stand up sit down, there is just this simple curve)
5. have a casual dress code
6. use cutting edge multimedia in services
And so on.
(as most of you know, this message could also be called: "T and B's life until now."
For many, this was the first they had ever heard of such a thing. they were shocked. some appalled. all looking to Brandon and I for answers. While at the same time, we were starting to sweat in our seats - this is too close for comfort, for sure. our past was quickly encroaching.
After the service and the discussion, we were surrounded by questions: do you actually know of churches like this? If so, could you give me some places to visit? (followed by meticulous note taking and fact gathering, probably organized into an outline in true Presbyterian fashion).
When I told them this was the first church in which I had ever used a hymnal, they lit up with glee - indeed, an expert in our midst! When I told them I was not raised in the church but converted of my own accord in my teens, they giggled - they do exist! When they found out we came from the Vineyard movement and that Brandon actually has been trained in small group leadership, the questions mounted and promises of future talks began.
Remember how we left all of this behind in search of a more personally authentic, stripped-down, less emotional-hype experience only a year ago?
It seems to be following me, but in a new way, hopefully a better way.
Surely, if we hope to have the option of attending a so-called "mainline" church in say twenty years, there must be some adaptation to appeal to these changing tastes (no matter how those tastes are associated with my own personal baggage).
The visitor told a story before the meeting adjourned that eased my fears:
When they first implemented this new "contemporary" model at their congregation, a graduate student who had been away for some years returned to find her home church changed, and so it appeared, overrun by the same, old evangelical model she had come to associate with all things corruptible to the church. However, after the "happy clappy hour" (as one of the women in my meeting called it!), the student realized that the theology of the teaching was the same and she found relief.
In this case then, it was possible to blend the two experiences - contemporary style with sound theology - one that avoids the trap of just being "all Jesus and me" (This was another favorite phrase of mine from the day: the pastor's wife and co-pastor explained that she went through and edited out some of the worship songs that made everything too introspective. I hope you know what I mean - not to diminish the importance of Jesus and me, but not to focus solely on it at the expense of the social gospel).
During the meeting I offered our story, explaining that we left these contemporary, evangelical churches because of their narrow views on social issues. I told them that their churches do not have to disappear, but in fact have an advantage - they offer space for doubts, questioning and discussion. They allow LGBT persons to not only practice their faith in their midst, but serve in leadership! They care about the environment and issues of sustainability and know that peace and justice ministry must be at the center of all faith work. We actually pray for our national and global leadership and against all forms of oppression during service. Surely there are other young people who are restless in conservative contemporary churches who would see the value in this, I thought.
Two worlds are colliding friends, and as the meeting ended, the experienced West Coast co-pastors urged our aging comrades to put Brandon and me at the very center of this collision to offer our unique perspective. Perhaps it will mean congregational mutiny as the aging ladies despise any changes to their routines, now seventy years solid. Perhaps they should hire me as a full-time contemporary church expert to consult them on these matters:) Perhaps this will create the best of both worlds?
He spoke to us from his own experience pastoring an aging congregation in a university town, trying to offer some hope that mainline denominations don't have to "die out" - although blunt, this is literal in the case of our church it seems.
Rather, they can attract students, young adults and young families.
In our church, I would estimate the median age to be about, oh, 60. Looking around the sanctuary each week, B and I stick out quite obviously with our black hair, and people often say to me, "It's so nice to have you here. Thanks for visiting." When I explain that we're actually members of the church, they are both happily surprised and embarrassed.
The visiting pastor's message quickly transported us into the twilight zone - it was a brief yet on the money description of our generation and what we look for in choosing a church. The congregation absorbed this information so eagerly because it truly was foreign information to them (although it was the most familiar and in ways unsettling to both of us). He explained in the most elementary of terms the following about a so-called contemporary church -
Contemporary churches:
1. do not use hymnals, but project words onto a screen
2. have more movement in the worship - such as hand clapping
3. do not use pipe organs, but incorporate guitars and drum sets into worship
4. have an "enyay" (~) flow to the service - high energy worship followed by teaching, followed by the "rockin postlude" ending music; (rather than a long liturgy of stand up sit down, there is just this simple curve)
5. have a casual dress code
6. use cutting edge multimedia in services
And so on.
(as most of you know, this message could also be called: "T and B's life until now."
For many, this was the first they had ever heard of such a thing. they were shocked. some appalled. all looking to Brandon and I for answers. While at the same time, we were starting to sweat in our seats - this is too close for comfort, for sure. our past was quickly encroaching.
After the service and the discussion, we were surrounded by questions: do you actually know of churches like this? If so, could you give me some places to visit? (followed by meticulous note taking and fact gathering, probably organized into an outline in true Presbyterian fashion).
When I told them this was the first church in which I had ever used a hymnal, they lit up with glee - indeed, an expert in our midst! When I told them I was not raised in the church but converted of my own accord in my teens, they giggled - they do exist! When they found out we came from the Vineyard movement and that Brandon actually has been trained in small group leadership, the questions mounted and promises of future talks began.
Remember how we left all of this behind in search of a more personally authentic, stripped-down, less emotional-hype experience only a year ago?
It seems to be following me, but in a new way, hopefully a better way.
Surely, if we hope to have the option of attending a so-called "mainline" church in say twenty years, there must be some adaptation to appeal to these changing tastes (no matter how those tastes are associated with my own personal baggage).
The visitor told a story before the meeting adjourned that eased my fears:
When they first implemented this new "contemporary" model at their congregation, a graduate student who had been away for some years returned to find her home church changed, and so it appeared, overrun by the same, old evangelical model she had come to associate with all things corruptible to the church. However, after the "happy clappy hour" (as one of the women in my meeting called it!), the student realized that the theology of the teaching was the same and she found relief.
In this case then, it was possible to blend the two experiences - contemporary style with sound theology - one that avoids the trap of just being "all Jesus and me" (This was another favorite phrase of mine from the day: the pastor's wife and co-pastor explained that she went through and edited out some of the worship songs that made everything too introspective. I hope you know what I mean - not to diminish the importance of Jesus and me, but not to focus solely on it at the expense of the social gospel).
During the meeting I offered our story, explaining that we left these contemporary, evangelical churches because of their narrow views on social issues. I told them that their churches do not have to disappear, but in fact have an advantage - they offer space for doubts, questioning and discussion. They allow LGBT persons to not only practice their faith in their midst, but serve in leadership! They care about the environment and issues of sustainability and know that peace and justice ministry must be at the center of all faith work. We actually pray for our national and global leadership and against all forms of oppression during service. Surely there are other young people who are restless in conservative contemporary churches who would see the value in this, I thought.
Two worlds are colliding friends, and as the meeting ended, the experienced West Coast co-pastors urged our aging comrades to put Brandon and me at the very center of this collision to offer our unique perspective. Perhaps it will mean congregational mutiny as the aging ladies despise any changes to their routines, now seventy years solid. Perhaps they should hire me as a full-time contemporary church expert to consult them on these matters:) Perhaps this will create the best of both worlds?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
A Rant to Save You from Unnecessary Harm
Please promise me that you won't ever watch the movie called The Fountain. Thanks.
This post is going to be reminiscent of my thoughts on The Last Mimzy, only opposite.
Last night the Brod and I went to good old Hot Ticket Video to peruse the titles we've missed out on over the last month or so, and boy did we choose a winner. Remember your promise, people.
Here's what one reviewer, S. Burns, had to say about this painfully pretentious and ridiculous movie:
"It's tough to kick a mewing kitten, even one this stupid and ugly."
"We keep cutting back and forth to bald Jackman in outer space, journeying through the cosmos inside a gigantic soap bubble containing the only tree I've ever seen that has pubic hair and makes sex noises. It's some sort of spirit oak that seems to have Weisz's life force trapped inside the bark, which Jackman has to eat to stay alive."
"How does one explain to a studio executive the necessity of the scene in which Hugh Jackman licks the vaginal secretions of a moaning tree, only to find a bouquet of spring flowers bursting out of his mouth?"
So true.
I know this makes no sense if you haven't seen it - and I'm sorry if you have - but don't be tempted. I know the pubic hair tree is enticing, but don't do it.
This post is going to be reminiscent of my thoughts on The Last Mimzy, only opposite.
Last night the Brod and I went to good old Hot Ticket Video to peruse the titles we've missed out on over the last month or so, and boy did we choose a winner. Remember your promise, people.
Here's what one reviewer, S. Burns, had to say about this painfully pretentious and ridiculous movie:
"It's tough to kick a mewing kitten, even one this stupid and ugly."
"We keep cutting back and forth to bald Jackman in outer space, journeying through the cosmos inside a gigantic soap bubble containing the only tree I've ever seen that has pubic hair and makes sex noises. It's some sort of spirit oak that seems to have Weisz's life force trapped inside the bark, which Jackman has to eat to stay alive."
"How does one explain to a studio executive the necessity of the scene in which Hugh Jackman licks the vaginal secretions of a moaning tree, only to find a bouquet of spring flowers bursting out of his mouth?"
So true.
I know this makes no sense if you haven't seen it - and I'm sorry if you have - but don't be tempted. I know the pubic hair tree is enticing, but don't do it.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Back to life as we know it
I never thought I'd look forward to taking out the trash and going to sleep by 10:30...Since we've been back from our trip, there hasn't been a day of normalcy. We returned to Pataskala (home of "bright waters") for a series of events: a funeral, a birthday, a wedding. A very strange mix of emotions. I felt like I was a living in some weird "this is the circle of life" story - birth, death, marriage, all in a weekend.
Also, we almost sold B's ghetto-mobile that's been sitting in Pataskala for the past two years. As the sucker pulled onto Smoke Road and sped away, B and I exchanged enthusiastic high-fives. Yes! We had the money in our hands for about 25 minutes when the buyer called to inform us that the car had broken down. classic. B-rod returned the cash and my mother nearly wept when she saw the tow truck dragging the piece of junk back to her driveway. Who's the sucker now, huh?
On the up side, we ate lots of cake during the weekend and I almost adopted a precious new kitten, which I named Little Seven. If she's still sitting on a Pataskala doorstep next weekend, I'm taking her with me.
Also, we almost sold B's ghetto-mobile that's been sitting in Pataskala for the past two years. As the sucker pulled onto Smoke Road and sped away, B and I exchanged enthusiastic high-fives. Yes! We had the money in our hands for about 25 minutes when the buyer called to inform us that the car had broken down. classic. B-rod returned the cash and my mother nearly wept when she saw the tow truck dragging the piece of junk back to her driveway. Who's the sucker now, huh?
On the up side, we ate lots of cake during the weekend and I almost adopted a precious new kitten, which I named Little Seven. If she's still sitting on a Pataskala doorstep next weekend, I'm taking her with me.
Monday, July 02, 2007
Is that all you got?
Is the Greyhound really the best we can do, America? In case you didn't know (or I don't know a better alternative), the Greyhound is pretty much the only way to get from NYC to Columbus, Ohio without paying a ridiculous amount of money. After our six days of unlimited Deutsche Bahn, this was quite sad.
With no available flights from the city to home, B-rod and I boarded the Hound at 9:15pm Saturday night at the Port Authority. Our journey to the gate was precarious -lots of vomit-dodging - on the floor, in the sinks, behind orange cones in the corners.
The Hound took us 14.5 hours and on the way we had some entertaining companions: the woman with the clown wig/afro who pronounced most of the road signs along the way aloud - "Mus - Musking - How you say that? Anybody know how to say that county?" (She referred to Muskingum County, the pronunciation of which I'm well versed in, but witheld because of my annoyance). Also, the many people with freakin enormous bags who liked to try to shove them into the tiny overhead luggage rack. These people never disappointed in amusing us - no, your 20 gallon trash bag full of shoes isn't going to fit, no way, but keep on trying...
We had to exit the Hounddog at every stop, so B. and I found ourselves many times throughout the night wandering around looking for bathrooms and vending machines with our fellow passengers - 2:30 am, Burger King in rural Pennsylvania; 6:00 am truck stop in Pittsburgh, and so on. We entered our beloved LC around 11:30 am on Sunday and sadly had to pass the Pataskala exit on our way to Columbus - you should've heard the clown lady trying to pronouce that one.
With no available flights from the city to home, B-rod and I boarded the Hound at 9:15pm Saturday night at the Port Authority. Our journey to the gate was precarious -lots of vomit-dodging - on the floor, in the sinks, behind orange cones in the corners.
The Hound took us 14.5 hours and on the way we had some entertaining companions: the woman with the clown wig/afro who pronounced most of the road signs along the way aloud - "Mus - Musking - How you say that? Anybody know how to say that county?" (She referred to Muskingum County, the pronunciation of which I'm well versed in, but witheld because of my annoyance). Also, the many people with freakin enormous bags who liked to try to shove them into the tiny overhead luggage rack. These people never disappointed in amusing us - no, your 20 gallon trash bag full of shoes isn't going to fit, no way, but keep on trying...
We had to exit the Hounddog at every stop, so B. and I found ourselves many times throughout the night wandering around looking for bathrooms and vending machines with our fellow passengers - 2:30 am, Burger King in rural Pennsylvania; 6:00 am truck stop in Pittsburgh, and so on. We entered our beloved LC around 11:30 am on Sunday and sadly had to pass the Pataskala exit on our way to Columbus - you should've heard the clown lady trying to pronouce that one.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Things are so so good friends
I can´t believe how amazing this trip has been. The road trip to NY included so many memorable things, most notably rocking out to Madonna´s Immaculate Collection and the Snakes On a Plane theme song. Thanks to Scott "the mac-daddy" Meyer, we had a freakishly nice stay in Manhattan. Big thanks forever to JessM and Liz for being the best of traveling companions.
Here in Deutschland we´ve been staying with my long lost pal Lauren and our new pal Benji the fussballer. They have shown us a great time in Dusseldorf, Cologne and Holland so far. We eat Brotchen all the time, and people love ice cream here. It is heavenly. I have found my people.
We climbed 509 swirly steps yesterday to the top of the Dom in Cologne. It was miserable but worth it. Also, we went out in Dusseldorf last night and are still resting from all the fun and pain.
The night began as we sat on a boat on the Rhein, sipping cocktails and enjoying the sunset. Then the boat rocks and a torrent of rain water fell from the umbrella we sat under, fully soaking me - and me only. The other people on the boat were horrified and hysterical. With wet hair and shirt and jacket and pants and all, the bartender offered me a hair dryer from the depths of the boat, but I refused. Instead he brought a pile of napkins and insisted that Lauren pat me down gently. To make up for it (and because we quickly became pals with the Greek and Syrian crew), the bar tender brought us a round of nasty double shots - he called it something fancy, but we suspect it was simply Jager. Anyway, this was very bad and we were all soon sehr betrunken, wandering through the pubs of Dusseldorf and making more pals - like an English clarinet player who invited me to join the jazz band next time I´m in town.
Here in Deutschland we´ve been staying with my long lost pal Lauren and our new pal Benji the fussballer. They have shown us a great time in Dusseldorf, Cologne and Holland so far. We eat Brotchen all the time, and people love ice cream here. It is heavenly. I have found my people.
We climbed 509 swirly steps yesterday to the top of the Dom in Cologne. It was miserable but worth it. Also, we went out in Dusseldorf last night and are still resting from all the fun and pain.
The night began as we sat on a boat on the Rhein, sipping cocktails and enjoying the sunset. Then the boat rocks and a torrent of rain water fell from the umbrella we sat under, fully soaking me - and me only. The other people on the boat were horrified and hysterical. With wet hair and shirt and jacket and pants and all, the bartender offered me a hair dryer from the depths of the boat, but I refused. Instead he brought a pile of napkins and insisted that Lauren pat me down gently. To make up for it (and because we quickly became pals with the Greek and Syrian crew), the bar tender brought us a round of nasty double shots - he called it something fancy, but we suspect it was simply Jager. Anyway, this was very bad and we were all soon sehr betrunken, wandering through the pubs of Dusseldorf and making more pals - like an English clarinet player who invited me to join the jazz band next time I´m in town.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Things like this don't happen in real life. only. in. my. dreams!
Yesterday was one of the best days - oh - ever. After a brief phone call with the best advisor - oh - ever, I am done at OU officially!! Remember that 30-page paper standing between me and freedom? Poof! Not fake finished like before, but a completed DARS, for real. Next challenge: getting a real degree - eat my dust academic bureaucracy!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
blog? schmog.
To my masses of loyal readers: I am sorry for disappearing. This month and next are more fun and exciting than I can record in this web-space, so I've felt a bit overwhelmed...
It all began with a wonderful trip to Peninsula, Ohio, perhaps one of the most charming little towns anywhere. JessM was a wonderful hostess. There were beavers and bicycles and people who love Harry Potter. Vodka on the porch, poop smoothie waste recycling, sun tubes, Europe's Final Countdown, Winking Lizard, and more.
This past weekend, Brod and I set out for Southern WV with my dad early on Saturday morning. The family reunion was disappointing in itself, but the three of us were ridiculous together, which made it a very worthwhile trip. Saturday afternoon we decided to climb the Patterson mountain - Mario and I accomplished this feat ten years ago, but that trail has long since overgrown and disappeared. So, the fearless three set out on a new route, but we were soon lost and wandering on cattle paths. My favorite part is that all throughout the intense heat and humidity and steep mountain climb, Mario chugged a Busch Light. Lost, leaning against trees for rest, stopping every hundred yards with exhaustion, the beer was constant. Classic. Brod and Mario P. also cooked a monstrous pot of stew for 100 people. They stirred it with a West Virginia stick. Photos from these road trips will hopefully follow (I lie, remember...)
It all began with a wonderful trip to Peninsula, Ohio, perhaps one of the most charming little towns anywhere. JessM was a wonderful hostess. There were beavers and bicycles and people who love Harry Potter. Vodka on the porch, poop smoothie waste recycling, sun tubes, Europe's Final Countdown, Winking Lizard, and more.
This past weekend, Brod and I set out for Southern WV with my dad early on Saturday morning. The family reunion was disappointing in itself, but the three of us were ridiculous together, which made it a very worthwhile trip. Saturday afternoon we decided to climb the Patterson mountain - Mario and I accomplished this feat ten years ago, but that trail has long since overgrown and disappeared. So, the fearless three set out on a new route, but we were soon lost and wandering on cattle paths. My favorite part is that all throughout the intense heat and humidity and steep mountain climb, Mario chugged a Busch Light. Lost, leaning against trees for rest, stopping every hundred yards with exhaustion, the beer was constant. Classic. Brod and Mario P. also cooked a monstrous pot of stew for 100 people. They stirred it with a West Virginia stick. Photos from these road trips will hopefully follow (I lie, remember...)
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Musings on things that are sharp:
B-rod almost cut off his foot last week. I mean, I know hooks for hands and peg legs are cool and all, but what about a stumpy half-foot - how does that work? He was turning on the lawnmower (ancient and property of our landlords) when it flew into the air and simultaneously turned on. It then landed on his foot, shredding his boot. Praise the lord for steel toed boots - hiking boots, sneakers, anything else, and B's toes would be history right now. This made me feel ill.
Also, I came home last night to find a giant machete hidden between my two outer doors. I love that I have friends who have various machetes that I can borrow at my fancy.
Also, I came home last night to find a giant machete hidden between my two outer doors. I love that I have friends who have various machetes that I can borrow at my fancy.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
"Sugar is the devil,"
said that angry lady with the spikey hair from that Bravo show Workout as I proceeded to dip little balls of margarine, peanut butter and powdered sugar into melting chocoloate. My kitchen had magically transformed into a candy factory, and I told myself I was now Tori Wonka! - (just to make this tedious process a little more fun). Eight hours later I laid down on the linoleum and whimpered a little, vowing never to eat a candy buckeye again. Seven hours after that, Peachums arrived at my house to find scary black circles under my eyes - yet, there were trays of buckeyes ready to be shuttled away for the kiddies of Trimble.
This, suprisingly, was the start of a wonderful day. After dumping the wretched sugar balls into the Volvo wagon, I trotted up the stairs and slept until noon thirty. Brod and I visited the new Donkey space and drank some iced chai; met JR for lunch and did some shop-browsing; took a nice walk home. Then we got to work on our new flower bed, and man is that soil in need of some serious love... we dug a little trench for the bricks - the fun Athens Block kind - and dug stones out of the old garden patch (and took some from our silly neighbors, who will never notice, because they hate plantlife from what I can tell and will never think to look in their bushes for very pretty stone). We plan to wash them and make them extra pretty on Saturday. After the outdoor work, we went for the mac-daddy dinner at the Blue Gator. I mean, for real, people: we ate strip steak and sea bass, and I had the best soup perhaps of my entire life - wild mushroom, spinach and garlic. drooool... In case you don't understand - we never eat like this. we are poor. so it was very exciting. I felt like I had superpowers and tons of energy after I ate such excellent food.
Okay, enough of that. Time to work. Here's one last thought: what's a girl to do when the international mail service loses a little piece of mail that contains a big piece of monies, huh?
This, suprisingly, was the start of a wonderful day. After dumping the wretched sugar balls into the Volvo wagon, I trotted up the stairs and slept until noon thirty. Brod and I visited the new Donkey space and drank some iced chai; met JR for lunch and did some shop-browsing; took a nice walk home. Then we got to work on our new flower bed, and man is that soil in need of some serious love... we dug a little trench for the bricks - the fun Athens Block kind - and dug stones out of the old garden patch (and took some from our silly neighbors, who will never notice, because they hate plantlife from what I can tell and will never think to look in their bushes for very pretty stone). We plan to wash them and make them extra pretty on Saturday. After the outdoor work, we went for the mac-daddy dinner at the Blue Gator. I mean, for real, people: we ate strip steak and sea bass, and I had the best soup perhaps of my entire life - wild mushroom, spinach and garlic. drooool... In case you don't understand - we never eat like this. we are poor. so it was very exciting. I felt like I had superpowers and tons of energy after I ate such excellent food.
Okay, enough of that. Time to work. Here's one last thought: what's a girl to do when the international mail service loses a little piece of mail that contains a big piece of monies, huh?
Monday, April 30, 2007
Farewell wizard frog
This weekend was amazing in many ways. Most notably, the first annual (will it be annual?) yard sale was a great success: B. and I made $300! Steph made even more! Peachums sold a bike! Mshel sold a futon!
I should also mention that people actually bought the following items from me:
- a fountain covered in rodent urine and feces. I did not realize the fountain was contaminated at first, but when I realized, I immediately placed it in the trash pile. A woman spied it in the garbage though and inquired. I answered, "It's dirty." (Quite a euphemism, eh?) But she didn't care and bought it for $2! Her only remark: "ya got mice."
- the psychedelic wizard frog that lived between my lava lamps when I was a young teen.
- the zebra print seat covers that once graced the plush, red velvet seats of my golden Dodge 600. They will now live a long and happy life and will see the world as they travel the country in the Southeast Engine van.
- an unworn bridal veil. good riddance.
- countless other weirdo objects that have been cluttering my life.
I should also mention that people actually bought the following items from me:
- a fountain covered in rodent urine and feces. I did not realize the fountain was contaminated at first, but when I realized, I immediately placed it in the trash pile. A woman spied it in the garbage though and inquired. I answered, "It's dirty." (Quite a euphemism, eh?) But she didn't care and bought it for $2! Her only remark: "ya got mice."
- the psychedelic wizard frog that lived between my lava lamps when I was a young teen.
- the zebra print seat covers that once graced the plush, red velvet seats of my golden Dodge 600. They will now live a long and happy life and will see the world as they travel the country in the Southeast Engine van.
- an unworn bridal veil. good riddance.
- countless other weirdo objects that have been cluttering my life.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I lie(d)
There is no donkey basketball update here. yet. maybe someday there will be time to upload my bizarro photos. but not now. and that shouldn't keep me from posting on here until then, right? right.
Life is beautiful lately - and weird.
I have (re)discovered my Appalachian roots; that is, my family came to central Ohio from Virginia/West Virginia only one generation ago. To learn more, B-rod, Mario and I are taking off for Patterson mountain in May. There will be banjo playing, church services, giant stew pots, horse shoes, log sawing competitions, moonshine, hiking, family cemetery visiting and much more. Let's also remember that this means a substantial road trip with Mr. Mario P. I cannot wait.
Other news:
- I am reading Winesburg, Ohio; as of now, it is not as wonderful as I had hoped.
- I have one fully free weekend between now and July.
- We have been experimenting with a "poop snake" in our plumbing; things are not looking good friends.
- Mr. Benji Fussball was a good fussballer this season, which means my tickets to D- land will be even cheaper than we'd hoped!
- April is a good month to have good babies; that is, many of my favorite people were born in April: Brod, Peachums, Jimon Sowell, JR, pinky davis, and others I'm sure.
- On Sunday, B. and I attended a Unitarian church service for Earth Day; we learned a rather catchy song about the rainforest from people wearing animal prints: "the caaan-o-peeee! the caaan-o-peeee!" "E-mer-GENT, E-mer-GENT!"
Life is beautiful lately - and weird.
I have (re)discovered my Appalachian roots; that is, my family came to central Ohio from Virginia/West Virginia only one generation ago. To learn more, B-rod, Mario and I are taking off for Patterson mountain in May. There will be banjo playing, church services, giant stew pots, horse shoes, log sawing competitions, moonshine, hiking, family cemetery visiting and much more. Let's also remember that this means a substantial road trip with Mr. Mario P. I cannot wait.
Other news:
- I am reading Winesburg, Ohio; as of now, it is not as wonderful as I had hoped.
- I have one fully free weekend between now and July.
- We have been experimenting with a "poop snake" in our plumbing; things are not looking good friends.
- Mr. Benji Fussball was a good fussballer this season, which means my tickets to D- land will be even cheaper than we'd hoped!
- April is a good month to have good babies; that is, many of my favorite people were born in April: Brod, Peachums, Jimon Sowell, JR, pinky davis, and others I'm sure.
- On Sunday, B. and I attended a Unitarian church service for Earth Day; we learned a rather catchy song about the rainforest from people wearing animal prints: "the caaan-o-peeee! the caaan-o-peeee!" "E-mer-GENT, E-mer-GENT!"
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Donkey basketball is real?
Two days and several hours from now I will be attending one of this area's premiere cultural events: Donkey Basketball.
All I know right now is that the ticket features the likeness of a growling donkey, that the donkeys will be wearing "non-marking nylon shoes" to protect the gym floor of Trimble Middle School, and that piles of poo dumped in strategic places earn varying amounts of points.
How can this be true?
I will find out Friday night.
More to come...
All I know right now is that the ticket features the likeness of a growling donkey, that the donkeys will be wearing "non-marking nylon shoes" to protect the gym floor of Trimble Middle School, and that piles of poo dumped in strategic places earn varying amounts of points.
How can this be true?
I will find out Friday night.
More to come...
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
A thought and some updates for the sake of updates
Green is my least favorite color. Why is my blog green?
Also - life update:
The P-S fam has planned the next year of our life(ves). B. has a real job secured - with health insurance! - starting in July after our 'vaycay' - he is very excited.
I am staying where I am, in light of recent events. You know what I mean...
Also - the lady beetles are back in my work nook (see October post).
Also - life update:
The P-S fam has planned the next year of our life(ves). B. has a real job secured - with health insurance! - starting in July after our 'vaycay' - he is very excited.
I am staying where I am, in light of recent events. You know what I mean...
Also - the lady beetles are back in my work nook (see October post).
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