Posts filed under ‘fun’
I went bowling last night with some co-workers of Doug’s– the dude turned 23. (yes, I felt old). The bowling place was playing The Outfield’s “Your Love” and the birthday boy’s girlfriend’s best friend’s roommate squealed and said “I love this one! It’s from 1985!” and proceeded to sing the entire thing from start to end.
I was obsessed with this song Back In The Day when I was 12. I loved the lead singer’s chipmunky face and earrings and mullet. I loved everything about them. However, they were kind of a one-hit-wonder, and this song was only popular for a couple of weeks, and not very popular at that.
I’ve listened to this song zillions of times (I own the 45!) No really, I do. Here it is:
I have no idea what the lyrics are. I watched the video I posted above and I still can’t make out the lyrics. Anyway, how does this girl, who obviously was born post-1985, know this song? Was it in a movie recently? Knowing songs from before your generation isn’t unheard of, I mean I know “The Locomotion” better than my parents probably, due to it being constantly everywhere. Ditto for “Stairway to Heaven” and anything by the Beatles. I could sing you Simon and Garfunkel’s entire catalog and ditto the Andrews Sisters, and that’s my grandparents’ generation. “Your Love”, however, is kind of obscure. It’s not obscure in that “I know this garage band from the 60s that only people in Topeka remember” way, more in that “one near-hit-wonder” way.
My mind was boggled. I love seeing what 80s music is popular these days. They played The Powerstation’s “Some Like It Hot” in the grocery store the other day, which is hilarious because nobody would have ever played it in a public place frequented by people over the age of 19 back in the day. However, now that I’m an Old Person, all the music is retro and therefore, safe. I LOVE BEING OLD!!!
Here I am in Thailand, so far it’s been awesome! I’m here with my mother and 17-year-old niece Mikala. Moth insisted Mikala and I do something “fun” today without her. I was all about whitewater rafting, but apparently it’s the dry season, so you can’t really do that. So, instead, we decided to go jungle ziplining. I have always liked the idea of doing stuff like bungee jumping and skydiving, so why not? Ziplining is somewhat educational; you get to see the jungle and stuff. Cool, right?
When I was little, I would always stand at the top of cliffs and buildings and things look over the edge. I liked the sensation of being up high. However, I started getting vertigo in my old age like 7 or 8 years ago. It was weird– I’d stand at the top of the spiral staircase that went to the basement of the Newbury Comics warehouse and my entire body would be dizzy and screaming “YOU’RE ABOUT TO DIE! ABORT MISSION!” while my brain would be intellectually saying “you’re at the top of a staircase. Big deal.” The disconnect between the two things was so weird and such a novel sensation that I used to make excuses to go to the basement all the time just to experience it.
Since then I’ve largely ignored it, so I figured I’d be fine on the ziplining course. For those of you who don’t know what it is, it’s where you go from platform to platform on trees high up by a pully on a harness that rolls on a cable.
It was fun, but truthfully, I’m glad I never have to do it again. The thought of bungee jumping makes me want to die right now. Skydiving? ::shudder::
So, my story and I’m sticking to it is that I’ve done extreme sports and now I’m done with that scene.
The actual going from tree platform to tree platform was fun! It was just the attempts to make it more extreme, like shaking the lines, making us go “like superman or superwoman” (usually you go sitting down, and you hang onto the harness, one time they clipped the pulley to your back so you’re going hands free) and the worst– the abeille. I didn’t know what that meant. It listed in the brochure that there were 3 abeilles. Ok. Whatever. Yeah, that’s when you go STRAIGHT DOWN. Seriously. The platform is directly below you and they just drop you down. HO LEE SHIT. Down. The length of a 4-storey building. It was weirdly exhilarating I guess, but really. I could have done without that. It was weird, because I knew it was totally safe. It wasn’t the fear of death or injury; just the vertigo! I screamed like a little bitch; I haven’t screamed like that in years!
So, if you ever want to go bungee jumping, don’t call me, OK?
Today I made the World’s Awesomest Applesauce. Applesawsomest? Anyway, it was AWESOME. Seriously. I know I overuse that word because I can never think of words that mean the same thing (“fantastic” seems fake, “terrific” is so sticker-on-a-spelling-test, “fabulous” is just… lame, unless you are talking about curtains, “great” isn’t awesome enough, “rad” and “dope” people make fun of me for using…)
I’ve been sick for the past week. The sick food that I like is soup (don’t care what kind; if it’s from a can or envelope that’s just fine) and applesauce. TW & TJ went apple picking and brought home a big sack of apples, so whenever a various housemate would say “do you need anything at the store?” and I would say “applesauce,” they would laugh thinking I was joking. I was not. For whatever reason when I’m sick, I just want applesauce! I spent a good 2 days sleeping and generally feeling like crap. On the 3rd day, I stuffed myself full of cold meds and drove to Woburn (about 20 miles away in the ‘burbs) to go to jury duty. I got lost getting there. Woburn has this common in the middle of town the “bowling green” that I kept getting stuck in the wrong lane for and driving round and round. Plus, my directions were wrong to begin with.
I get downstairs in the courthouse to the lovely humming fluorescently lit room peppered with well thumbed copies of Popular Mechanics and Good Housekeeping and nobody tells me what to do. Everyone seems to have papers in hand that they had filled out ahead of time. I stand in line, filling out one that’s on the table. The lady in charge informs me that I’m at the wrong courthouse, that I should be at the district court instead of the city court or something, but it doesn’t matter since I live in the wrong county anyway. Wait, what? Whatever entity is responsible for sending you jury summonses thinks I still live in Cambridge, which is in… uh… Middlesex? Essex? Sussex? some county that isn’t Suffolk, which is where I live now. So really, why would a Somethingsex county send a jury summons to someone in another county? Wouldn’t they know something was amiss when they addressed the envelope? When I confirmed my attendance within 10 days after getting the summons? When they sent me the confirmation letter and then later on the reminder? This whole time I’m talking to the lady, I’m in a zombie-like state and I could barely croak out responses to her questions. The cool thing that I brought away from this experience is that “summonsed” is really a real word. You are apparently summonsed to be in a jury, not summoned. I don’t know why this word cracks me up so much. Summonsed. Hehe.
Anyway, I drove home in a massive traffic jam because half the Nawth Shaw was flooded. 95 was a parking lot and I spent 1/2 hour barely ever getting out of first gear… to discover that I was going North instead of South. What does this have to do with applesauce you ask? Because when I got home I was like, “I’M MAKING SOME GODDAMN APPLESAUCE IF IT KILLS ME!” So I did. It sucked. It was awful because I put no effort into it; I made it like I would make mashed potatoes, but then was too sick to even mash it properly. Boiling the apples took all the flavor out, so basically it was like eating slightly lumpy water. Ah me and my First World Problems.
Last night when I was searching to see if I could watch the PBS Prohibition mini-series on the innernets I happened to scroll past an applesauce recipe that looked interesting. I wrote it down and made it today and HOLY CRAP IT IS AWESOME!!! here’s the recipe:
- 4 apples
- 1 cup orange juice
- 3 tablespoons sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
So I’m on staycation because Laura, Jack and the Little Dude are all at their medieval camping event down in Pennsylvania. Because I’m not working this week, I’ve been getting all sorts of things accomplished for the move in a couple of weeks and that is all dandy. However, last night I just wanted to go dancing. So, I did! Being old is awesome because I can go out and dance by myself all night and really don’t give a shit what I look like or who sees me. Basically, I’m not trying to impress anyone, so who cares? The night at Great Scott in Allston was a new one, so people weren’t really in the groove about what it’s about yet. Also, they were the typical northeastern types who are just kind of uptight to begin with. They were mostly in their 20s and I could see them checking me out to see what my deal was. I mean, a chick showing up at a dance club alone must be, like, a hooker or desperate to get booty or something, right? When they realized I was just there to dance, people [i.e. chicks] stopped whispering to each other (it’s a pretty small place and there weren’t a whole lot of people on the tiny dance floor) and just ignored me. Which is exactly what I wanted! Thus I drank a lot and danced all night and had a ton of fun. ROCK ON! Afterwards I was riding my bike home and wasn’t sure I could make it all the way so I stopped in at Jack & Laura’s because the lights were on and hung out with Rob for a while until I sobered up enough to ride home. by then it was 4:30 a.m. I haven’t seen 4:30 a.m. in a long time! It was awesome. I should go dancing again soon, except my old bones are kind of sore from all the merriment. So, after I snort some Geritol and get a new hip, I should be good to go!
You know how I know the weird-ass diet is working? The people at 15/17 Alcott had a party the other night with lots of yummy food. After sampling everything (many more than once!) I spent a while sitting next to a bowl of chocolate covered pretzels. I freaking LOVE those things! They’re kind of expensive, too, so I never buy them. The entire time my intellect was saying “holy crap you are full. Your stomach cannot hold another thing thanks to all of the enchiladas and Rob’s tasty chili with olives that you ingested.” However, my non-intellect… emotions, impulses, whatever you call it was screaming “WANT WANT WANT GIMME GIMME GIMME!!!!” I didn’t eat any of them, though, because I was too full. It was very strange… usually I have no problem making room for dessert! I had to waste some awesome ginger ice cream while eating sushi with Lil Bitch the other night too, due to extreme fullness. ME! Wasting ice cream! Can you believe it? Think of all the starving children in Ethiopia or wherever who would love a bowl of ice cream! I will be back to my regular less fat self in no time! I’m not setting my goals very high– I want to be realistic about this. I gained 15 lbs this winter and can’t fit into any of my shorts. I’d like to lose that 15 lbs., any more than that is just a bonus.
Yesterday Sarah Palin was in town, speaking to thousands of irate New Englanders on the Boston Common. People had all sorts of signs including ones like “Obama = elected communist czar” and “I ❤ Sarah Palin because she ❤ my country." The czar thing made my brain hurt. It's just wrong on so many levels! Anyway, there were protesters there as well, but I was part of another kind of protest. We had a tea party. People dressed up in fancy clothes and brought china and had a tea party. When people got in our faces and tried to tell us how Obama was an anti-American illegal immigrant communist who wants taxpayers to fund everyone to have a mandatory abortion, we just offered them tea and cookies. The whole tea party was making the point that you should just be polite and civil. Some people went all out with costumes, too! There were a bunch of guys in Victorian suits, girls in long dresses, fancy hats and parasols, one group had speakers hooked up to an iPod and played tastefully bland Baroque music as they sipped their tea. It was pretty awesome! I brought Nana's white wicker purse and her blue and white teacups with a lacy doily. I realized that I don't have anything fancy to wear that's not suitable for a goth club, so I wore my black party dress with red & white striped stockings and shiny red mary janes. Oh yeah and pearls. Don't forget the pearls! The pro-Palinites were really trying to pick stuff with us, too! They were very confrontational. Some warmed up after they had cookies, others just looked confused. One lady even made a sign shaped like an arrow that said "tea party imposters!" on one side and "fake protester alert! Liberal moonbat!" and walked around through the tea drinkers pointing it at people. I'll post my picture with her! Instead of making people mad as I think she intended, people were overly polite, offered her lots of cookies and took turns having their picture taken with her. It was pretty awesome.
I got back from Mexico yesterday. It was AWESOME!!!! I even was understanding a lot of Spanish and able to say words and phrases here and there towards the end. I can read pretty well it turns out (I read the first 3 pages of “Twilight” (“Crepúsculo”) in a bookstore), but I can’t understand much and I can’t speak for shit! Contrary to what every one says, “everyone speaks English there” really doesn’t apply. Sure, most people know about as much English as I know Spanish, but at times the Spanglish interchanges got a little confusing. For example, I went to eat dinner at this cafe near the hotel– the menu was hand written on the door. Locals were gathered around a small tv watching lucha libre with poor reception (the tv, not the audience!). The owner started listing things to me. I just said “yes” to one. I didn’t know what it was, but I figure there is very little out there that I don’t like, and the likelihood of a small local cafe with 3 tables in it serving durian, parsnips or blue popsicles is very low. It turned out to be some nice chicken thing with frijoles negros (black beans). When the guy said some conjugation of “beber” (to drink), I said “jugo de naranja?” (orange juice). It turned out they were out of orange juice, so he held up two different juices, one purple and one a milky white. I pointed to the purple one. It was delicious! I have absolutely no idea what it was, and I even asked, but I didn’t write it down, and when I asked again, the guy thought he hadn’t understood me and said something else. Oh well. When I sat down they changed the tv to “Remember the Titans.” it’s kind of surreal watching Denzel Washington give stirring speeches dubbed in Spanish. All in all the trip was super awesome!!!
We went to Chichén Itza and Uzmal which are two Mayan ruin sites. Thus, most of my pictures are of piles of rocks. I took 400 pictures and, well, probably 3/4 of them are of ruins. Look! It’s a crumbling archway! Look! It’s half a doorway! Look! It’s 5 pictures of a tumbled down wall! Anyway, I have some of them here. My new camera is awesome, but I don’t know how to set it to take smaller pictures. Thus every one is like humongous and takes forever to upload and I am way too lazy to go into Photoshop and make them all smaller. Here are the ones of Mérida and Chichén Itza: http://scootronimus.shutterfly.com/