I'm moving soon and have noticed that I tend to justify ridiculousness a lot more prior to a major change in my life. When I left bread & cup and moved to Denver, I ate as many scones and muffins and tomato pesto-y things as humanly possible (because apparently I never was going to get b&c ever again . . .?). I also drank a lot of whiskey. And beer. Bad beer. Needless to say I put on a little extra cushion that summer yet somehow I would have argued a justification to the grave. Gross.
Now I'm off on my next life-changing adventure. Snazz. I'm excited. Sooo in doing so, I'm selling some of my things (anyone want a couch?) and am buying "moving things" -- whatever that means. Well last night I headed out for a quick baby trip to Target to pick up 1. wood glue and 2. plastic tubs or boxes. Ha. I rolled out of there with a new book and movie for my soon-to-be nephews (they're still baking), a gift for a friend, paper towels (?), cat food (the wet kind--woof), and some jelly beans . . . along with my wood glue and plastic tubs. REALLY? Oh well. They're all necessities. Why? Because I have to be Super Aunt, Super Friend, Super Mover, Super Cleaner and Super Cat Lady. That's why.
As I was standing in the check-out line, which was abnormally long for 9:30 on a Wednesday night, I was enjoying some strong people-watching opportunities . . . until . . . the people behind me decided to ignore social norms. OK people, I love my personal space. I told my 6th grade boyfriend to get away from me because he was invading my bubble. Little did I know (or care) he was trying to snuggle and smooch me, but I wasn't having it. Well, as I was putting my loot in my cart to haul outside, the very, um, large gentleman in line behind me positioned himself right next to the little card-scanner/pin-number-inputter and had a look like "I'll be damned if I'm budging." Well shit. So I snuggled up (ew) next to him to run my card and as I awkwardly entered my pin (he was watching me and breathing on me the whole time), all I could think about was socking him in the jiggly belly and making a run for it. So instead, for kicks I gave the cashier an eye and I think he nearly peed himself trying not to laugh. Holy awkwardness. I at least felt good that the cashier and I had a small humor-related victory over the situation, but if I ever come across a bubble-invader again I might just lose it.
Or most likely I won't . . . but a girl can dream, can't she?
7/28/11
7/13/11
hula hoop dance circle.
Today I just need to write. About what I'm not sure, but hey it's a lovely little outlet. I've been working my little buns like mad this week so a hiatus, a rest, a deep breath (although I'm not fully capable of those at this moment) seems necessary for this moment. You know, reflection and stuff.
My brain immediately goes to last weekend. I drove with some friends down to NewMexiworld (I prefer to compare it to the likes of Disneyworld) for a little R&R that mostly included drinking champagne, sleeping and dancing. We danced so hard (or correction: I danced so hard) that I woke up with burning calves and an achy back the next morning . . . with a little hint of embarrassment looming like a dark cloud over my head. Granted, I don't often get embarrassed-embarrassed, but recalling some of my MONDO white girl dance moves last night made me feel a little . . . stupid. That, and all I could remember doing was throwing my arms all over the place and bouncing up and down. A LOT. But naturally that feeling faded fast as I reflected more. What began as two of us wiggling around the living room quickly became three ladies trying to synchronize moves and act as foolishly as possible in an effort to lure in other dancers. After an hour of this we still had no takers. Maybe it was because I was dripping in sweat? Well, yeah, maybe.
THEN after a little break in action, I went back inside to find three of our guy friends having a raging dance party. People, this isn't something you/I/anyone sees everyday, so I took full advantage. Within 10 minutes we had a full-blown dance party in the middle of the living room (we moved the furniture out of the way to make a sweet dance floor) complete with dance circles, awesome/awful moves, and attempts at break-dancing (or at least that's what it looked like to me).
But best of all? There was a hula hoop. Watching a grown man hula hoop is about as good as it gets.
And so ends my train of thought.
My brain immediately goes to last weekend. I drove with some friends down to NewMexiworld (I prefer to compare it to the likes of Disneyworld) for a little R&R that mostly included drinking champagne, sleeping and dancing. We danced so hard (or correction: I danced so hard) that I woke up with burning calves and an achy back the next morning . . . with a little hint of embarrassment looming like a dark cloud over my head. Granted, I don't often get embarrassed-embarrassed, but recalling some of my MONDO white girl dance moves last night made me feel a little . . . stupid. That, and all I could remember doing was throwing my arms all over the place and bouncing up and down. A LOT. But naturally that feeling faded fast as I reflected more. What began as two of us wiggling around the living room quickly became three ladies trying to synchronize moves and act as foolishly as possible in an effort to lure in other dancers. After an hour of this we still had no takers. Maybe it was because I was dripping in sweat? Well, yeah, maybe.
THEN after a little break in action, I went back inside to find three of our guy friends having a raging dance party. People, this isn't something you/I/anyone sees everyday, so I took full advantage. Within 10 minutes we had a full-blown dance party in the middle of the living room (we moved the furniture out of the way to make a sweet dance floor) complete with dance circles, awesome/awful moves, and attempts at break-dancing (or at least that's what it looked like to me).
But best of all? There was a hula hoop. Watching a grown man hula hoop is about as good as it gets.
And so ends my train of thought.
7/7/11
write free.
I have an old work friend who would spend hours free-writing. It was awesome.
This is what happens when I free write:
Melissa has brown hair and the sun shines like the stars in the night over a mountain while the octopus plays in the water with a harp and a fisherman's net.
Don't judge--I could go on for hours. It's fun. Try it.
This is what happens when I free write:
Melissa has brown hair and the sun shines like the stars in the night over a mountain while the octopus plays in the water with a harp and a fisherman's net.
Don't judge--I could go on for hours. It's fun. Try it.
7/6/11
weekend extravaganza.
Ahhh my weekend. Began with the fantasticness of my birthday, ended with the fantasticness of my patriotic boyfriend wishing a couple of Brits "Happy Fourth!" Oh irony, how I love thee.
Saturday morning our wild little adventures began with a breakfast sandwich on our way to Mt. Bierstadt. The poor woman working kept telling us that she was new so was still learning the ropes and was all sorts of flustered trying to make people's egg sandwiches, but nothing could detract my attention from her black and perfectly penciled-on eyebrows. I guess she either pulled a Whoopie or a Britney one day and decided there was too much hair on her head (face) so gone went the brows. Regardless, the sandwich was OK.
We took Bierstadt by storm, passing dogs in kitten mittens and dads packed high with babies. After a ceremonial beer at the 14,000-ft summit, we quickly realized our mistake . . . climbing down jagged rocks at a high elevation and steepness is a little trickier with some booze coursing through your body. I'm gonna go ahead and blame my graceful fall into the river on the delicious beer I drank. Either that, or the fact that I'm insanely foolish (and proud). Que sera . . .
The next events came in more of a whirlwind: lunch with parents, mad dash to the Holiday Inn, drive so sweet on western I-70 that it was actually maddening, using google to find a spot to set up camp, McDonaldsing in Aspen (who does that? oh yeah, we do) and watching people throw pine cones to their toy pups on a rugby pitch (remember . . . Aspen). These dogs had names like Leopold, Jiacamo, Lily and Lord only knows what else. At one point we heard a woman yell to her beagle, "Leopold, I'd like you to come over here right now." Lady. Don't name your dog Leopold if you want him to come to you. AND, let's be real here: the standard "come" will suffice, thank you.
Next we stumbled upon the Cathedral Lake hike and I can't explain how happy I am that we did. It was probably the best part of the trip, closely followed by . . . what happened next. Once we descended from the Cathedral Lake hike, it was most evident that we needed a shower. So we booked it to Glenwood Springs for lunch and while there we tried to come up with a shower plan. OK people, why is finding a place to shower so hard to do? We went to Hotel Colorado to see if one of my sorority sisters who works there could hook us up. No luck. We creeped around a couple hotels to see if they had locker rooms (I'm not exactly proud of having done this . . . ). No luck. We tried to get into an "exclusive" gym. No luck. So we gave up on Glenwood and decided to book it to Leadville in hopes of finding at least a bucket of fresh water to sponge off in. Well, thank heavens for google and for the Leadville Hostel where we bought the most magical $3 showers in the history of the world.
After that, we made friends with some local bar-goers by picking a rad juke box mix (we had drunks dancing all over the place--just fantastic), set up camp and sunk into our sweet new camping chairs with a box of pizza and some delicious beers. Nothing better. Then to wrap up the weekend, we attended the most crazed Fourth of July parade I never thought was possible. Seriously, it was mayhem. There were men walking around in boxes, children darting all sorts of directions on scooters and grannies throwing candy at small children. There were a few moments when I feared for our lives. Thankfully the parade ended after the 5-minutes of uncivilized fanfare and we were able to head up to Mt Massive.
A few hours later we were back on I-70 heading east and what do you know . . . a fruit truck overturns sending apples flying across the interstate and backing up holiday traffic for miiiiiiiles. And so ended our wild adventure through Central CO, with a three-hour crawl back to the great mile high citay.
Saturday morning our wild little adventures began with a breakfast sandwich on our way to Mt. Bierstadt. The poor woman working kept telling us that she was new so was still learning the ropes and was all sorts of flustered trying to make people's egg sandwiches, but nothing could detract my attention from her black and perfectly penciled-on eyebrows. I guess she either pulled a Whoopie or a Britney one day and decided there was too much hair on her head (face) so gone went the brows. Regardless, the sandwich was OK.
We took Bierstadt by storm, passing dogs in kitten mittens and dads packed high with babies. After a ceremonial beer at the 14,000-ft summit, we quickly realized our mistake . . . climbing down jagged rocks at a high elevation and steepness is a little trickier with some booze coursing through your body. I'm gonna go ahead and blame my graceful fall into the river on the delicious beer I drank. Either that, or the fact that I'm insanely foolish (and proud). Que sera . . .
The next events came in more of a whirlwind: lunch with parents, mad dash to the Holiday Inn, drive so sweet on western I-70 that it was actually maddening, using google to find a spot to set up camp, McDonaldsing in Aspen (who does that? oh yeah, we do) and watching people throw pine cones to their toy pups on a rugby pitch (remember . . . Aspen). These dogs had names like Leopold, Jiacamo, Lily and Lord only knows what else. At one point we heard a woman yell to her beagle, "Leopold, I'd like you to come over here right now." Lady. Don't name your dog Leopold if you want him to come to you. AND, let's be real here: the standard "come" will suffice, thank you.
Next we stumbled upon the Cathedral Lake hike and I can't explain how happy I am that we did. It was probably the best part of the trip, closely followed by . . . what happened next. Once we descended from the Cathedral Lake hike, it was most evident that we needed a shower. So we booked it to Glenwood Springs for lunch and while there we tried to come up with a shower plan. OK people, why is finding a place to shower so hard to do? We went to Hotel Colorado to see if one of my sorority sisters who works there could hook us up. No luck. We creeped around a couple hotels to see if they had locker rooms (I'm not exactly proud of having done this . . . ). No luck. We tried to get into an "exclusive" gym. No luck. So we gave up on Glenwood and decided to book it to Leadville in hopes of finding at least a bucket of fresh water to sponge off in. Well, thank heavens for google and for the Leadville Hostel where we bought the most magical $3 showers in the history of the world.
After that, we made friends with some local bar-goers by picking a rad juke box mix (we had drunks dancing all over the place--just fantastic), set up camp and sunk into our sweet new camping chairs with a box of pizza and some delicious beers. Nothing better. Then to wrap up the weekend, we attended the most crazed Fourth of July parade I never thought was possible. Seriously, it was mayhem. There were men walking around in boxes, children darting all sorts of directions on scooters and grannies throwing candy at small children. There were a few moments when I feared for our lives. Thankfully the parade ended after the 5-minutes of uncivilized fanfare and we were able to head up to Mt Massive.
A few hours later we were back on I-70 heading east and what do you know . . . a fruit truck overturns sending apples flying across the interstate and backing up holiday traffic for miiiiiiiles. And so ended our wild adventure through Central CO, with a three-hour crawl back to the great mile high citay.
7/1/11
hbd.
Today is my birthday. The very special day that comes once a year and celebrates my very own vag emergence into this strange and fantastic world. I wish I could say I came up with the phrase "VE" all on my own, but it was my old friend Matty who came up with that one, along with Dumpasaurus Deuce and Silly Salamander. Still makes me laugh.
I started off the day with a giant cup of coffee and a phone call from my dear Grams and Gma/Gpa who all still sing to me. I can't begin to explain how much I love this. Next, and best yet, my mom called and left a caffinated song message (saved. duh.) that was a beautiful little rendition of Happy Birthday, ending with "and it makes me haaaaaappy too!" And thank God it does. She spent 36 laborious hours with me in the ER 24 years ago. And then all 10 pounds of me came into this world, face up with a big HEY GIRL grin on my face. Bless her heart.
I also received a call from one of my friends in IT who sang about the creepiest and most fantastic Marilyn Monroe version of HBD ever. I couldn't stop laughing. Further proof that it's going to be a great day.
Although . . . I'm pretty sure the best thing about my bday is that it falls just before the Fourth of July--one of my favorite holidays--which means I usually get at least a 3-day weekend and everyone parties! I like to pretend they're actually partying in my honor, sipping delicious margaritas (that's American, right?) and drinking can after delicious can of Bud Light. Ahhh America. So classy.
So. Cheers to me today. I'm ready for a glass of champagne. I already had the priviledge of blowing out a candle and making a wish on a delicious brownie this morning. YES.
AND thanks to everyone for the bday love. It means so much. I love it and love my people.
I started off the day with a giant cup of coffee and a phone call from my dear Grams and Gma/Gpa who all still sing to me. I can't begin to explain how much I love this. Next, and best yet, my mom called and left a caffinated song message (saved. duh.) that was a beautiful little rendition of Happy Birthday, ending with "and it makes me haaaaaappy too!" And thank God it does. She spent 36 laborious hours with me in the ER 24 years ago. And then all 10 pounds of me came into this world, face up with a big HEY GIRL grin on my face. Bless her heart.
I also received a call from one of my friends in IT who sang about the creepiest and most fantastic Marilyn Monroe version of HBD ever. I couldn't stop laughing. Further proof that it's going to be a great day.
Although . . . I'm pretty sure the best thing about my bday is that it falls just before the Fourth of July--one of my favorite holidays--which means I usually get at least a 3-day weekend and everyone parties! I like to pretend they're actually partying in my honor, sipping delicious margaritas (that's American, right?) and drinking can after delicious can of Bud Light. Ahhh America. So classy.
So. Cheers to me today. I'm ready for a glass of champagne. I already had the priviledge of blowing out a candle and making a wish on a delicious brownie this morning. YES.
AND thanks to everyone for the bday love. It means so much. I love it and love my people.
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