Tomorrow we are off to Gulf Shores, AL, for some vacation time. Time most likely spent at the condo pool hopefully fixing my weird tan lines, and if last time was any indication, watching a lot of Unbeatable Banzuke on G4.
The beach itself is most likely off-limits and covered in tar balls and the water is probably not fit for swimming. There is also a tropical storm (Bonnie!) coming through just in time for our stay.
So what I'm saying is: please call me. About anything. Anytime. If I'm sleeping, believe me it won't bother me, because I won't answer it.
See you next week!
Unless I find internet access, in which case, I'll see you sooner than you'd think.
Friday, July 23, 2010
hm hmh hmmh hm du duh DHUH DHUH DUH
So admittedly I don't spend my time on the internet well. Most of the time I'm watching How I Met Your Mother or definitely NOT iCarly online, checking my email, and facebooking. Which is totally a verb, no matter what spellcheck says.
But last night, I watched the sequel to Very Potter Musical (which you NEED TO SEE if you haven't already) and that took about 3ish hours of my life. But they were hours I don't want back. The sequel was a bit more adult than the last; something I don't mind, but I am definitely glad I didn't let Daniel watch it with me.
Here's a bit of it-
other favorites: no one can pronounce Hermione's name, Crookshanks, Lupin, and well, Umbridge's backstory:
But last night, I watched the sequel to Very Potter Musical (which you NEED TO SEE if you haven't already) and that took about 3ish hours of my life. But they were hours I don't want back. The sequel was a bit more adult than the last; something I don't mind, but I am definitely glad I didn't let Daniel watch it with me.
Here's a bit of it-
other favorites: no one can pronounce Hermione's name, Crookshanks, Lupin, and well, Umbridge's backstory:
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
that damn dog
For a while I have been my dog's only champion. He's pretty dumb considering his name is Einstein (which was not our choice, but I have accepted it as an homage to Back to the Future) and he isn't an inbred pure breed puppy mill product. He usually eats everything he can reach, which is a lot. Now he's been known to trot upstairs and crap in people's bedrooms. But still I loved him, defended him, and derailed my family's plans to send him to a farm.
And then today I went upstairs and I found something.
Next to my bed on the floor in the corner of my room, (placed there out of shame, I'd like to imagine) was a tattered piece of trash. A shredded bag, evidence betraying his actions in my room that day. Maybe it happened while I was at work. Or even while I sat downstairs watching Harvard Sailing Team videos on YouTube. All I know is that sometime today, he finished my bag of Peanut butter M&Ms. MY PEANUT BUTTER M&Ms. Arguably the best kind of M&Ms ever invented and a luxury I was looking forward to enjoying later that day.
I don't know if we can move past this.
It's hard to stay mad at a dog. Hm. I'd better go make sure he didn't eat my frozen pizza, the scoundrel.
And then today I went upstairs and I found something.
Next to my bed on the floor in the corner of my room, (placed there out of shame, I'd like to imagine) was a tattered piece of trash. A shredded bag, evidence betraying his actions in my room that day. Maybe it happened while I was at work. Or even while I sat downstairs watching Harvard Sailing Team videos on YouTube. All I know is that sometime today, he finished my bag of Peanut butter M&Ms. MY PEANUT BUTTER M&Ms. Arguably the best kind of M&Ms ever invented and a luxury I was looking forward to enjoying later that day.
I don't know if we can move past this.
It's hard to stay mad at a dog. Hm. I'd better go make sure he didn't eat my frozen pizza, the scoundrel.
Monday, July 19, 2010
RLS: "Friend of Hookface" pt 2
So I gave my number to Hookface's friend, because Hookface was busy shoving bikes in his trunk. I didn't have the foresight or quick thinking to give him a fake number, and I thought What harm could it do?
Marca and I escaped down King St, not even venturing to glance behind us as we walked/ran away. We were starving, and as we walked we debated places to eat. An adventure of this quality could not be followed by campus food! We needed something special and delicious. We needed Hobbit's Foot Pizza (Mellow Mushroom's Magical Mystery Tour pizza has feta, spinach, button mushrooms- basically it looks like you scraped it off the bottom of Samwise's furry feet. And it's delicious, I promise). So we called a couple friends of ours because we needed an audience.
To remember who/what he was, he appeared in my phone as "Justin Seaman" because that was his name, and he was, well, in the Navy.
During dinner, the guy (henceforth known as Justin Seaman) texted me things like "In the ER!" or "This is taking forever!" I noticed he was a lot more excited and friendly-sounding via text and neglected to throw in his favorite four letter word. I responded when the text necessitated a response, hoping he would realize I wasn't really interested and just fade away.
The next morning, I went with a group of friends to the Farmer's Market in Marion Square to get brunch. As I sat eating my red beans and Abita root beer from the New Orleans tent, I get a notification: a text from Justin Seaman! "What's up?"
I ignored it for a few hours, pretending I was asleep. After a while I felt guilty and said something boring and noncommittal like "not much."
Over the next two weeks (the last week of classes and exams) he would pop into my phone every few days, usually asking what's up or informing me that he doesn't have a curfew next weekend (wink). Awesome. I changed his name to "Friend of Hookface" so I would really remember who he was. I told him I was moving back to Atlanta for the summer, and he finally left me alone and stopped asking to meet up.
I was finally rid of him!
Or so I thought.
Yesterday, YESTERDAY, I got a text while I was in the concession stand at work. I'm going to put the whole conversation here, because there is no chance of him finding this blog and it's a really funny story.
Friend of Hookface 7/18 4:28- Hey!
WHAT? I hadn't talked to this guy in months and only for a few hours on that pier. Either I left quite an impression or he is lonely and desperate. From what I know about some of the Navy guys and MOST of the Citadel guys, the latter is more likely.
I didn't know if I should say anything, and I sent texts to a few friends that knew the story and asked "what should I do?" My favorite was my friend brad who responded "Play dead?"
Me 6:03- Hey (notice I have no inflection at all and I responded almost two hours later)
FoHf 6:08- What have you been up to? (of course)
Me 6:09- Working a lot. (I started responding more frequently because it was raining yesterday and the splashground was dead. I was really bored)
FoHf 6:11- Bummer, where at?
Me 6:12- A park. Selling ice cream right now. You? (I thought at this point, it was only polite to include a question mark on my end)
FoHf 6:13- Waiting for school to start up, where is the park at? (now that's a creepy question. I'm sure if the park were in the Charleston area, he would have come to find me)
Me 6:14- Roswell GA (emphasis on the GEORGIA)
FoHf 6:16- When you coming back to SC? (of course)
Me 6:59- (fourty minutes later) In a few weeks (vague). Can't wait to get outta here! (meaning work, Mom, not your lovely house)
FoHf 7:00- Sweet! Did I meet you at the pier?
what? clearly my name in his phone is not "girl at pier" or "Fish hook chick" which I guess is good?
Me 7:00- (laughing, deciding to "play it cool") I think so
FoHf 7:01- yeah fishhook? (that's not a question)
Me 7:04- haha yeah
FoHf 7:05- Cool! Sorry I didn't keep in touch!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA
I was so busy laughing I didn't respond. For a while.
FoHf 7:25- You workin now? (get outta my business, bro!)
Me 8:08- Just got out. At grandma's house.
FoHf 8:10- Sounds fun, ya just visiting or what? (this guy must be really bored.)
At this point, I had told the story to Mumma and she was helping me with evasive maneuvers. "You should have said that you were going to move back the 15th, but your boyfriend can't move back till the 30th," she said. I looked at his last message and got an idea.
Me 8:16- I'm introducing my boyfriend to the family.
FoHf 8:19- sweet sounds fun.
Conversation OVER.
Marca and I escaped down King St, not even venturing to glance behind us as we walked/ran away. We were starving, and as we walked we debated places to eat. An adventure of this quality could not be followed by campus food! We needed something special and delicious. We needed Hobbit's Foot Pizza (Mellow Mushroom's Magical Mystery Tour pizza has feta, spinach, button mushrooms- basically it looks like you scraped it off the bottom of Samwise's furry feet. And it's delicious, I promise). So we called a couple friends of ours because we needed an audience.
To remember who/what he was, he appeared in my phone as "Justin Seaman" because that was his name, and he was, well, in the Navy.
During dinner, the guy (henceforth known as Justin Seaman) texted me things like "In the ER!" or "This is taking forever!" I noticed he was a lot more excited and friendly-sounding via text and neglected to throw in his favorite four letter word. I responded when the text necessitated a response, hoping he would realize I wasn't really interested and just fade away.
The next morning, I went with a group of friends to the Farmer's Market in Marion Square to get brunch. As I sat eating my red beans and Abita root beer from the New Orleans tent, I get a notification: a text from Justin Seaman! "What's up?"
I ignored it for a few hours, pretending I was asleep. After a while I felt guilty and said something boring and noncommittal like "not much."
Over the next two weeks (the last week of classes and exams) he would pop into my phone every few days, usually asking what's up or informing me that he doesn't have a curfew next weekend (wink). Awesome. I changed his name to "Friend of Hookface" so I would really remember who he was. I told him I was moving back to Atlanta for the summer, and he finally left me alone and stopped asking to meet up.
I was finally rid of him!
Or so I thought.
Yesterday, YESTERDAY, I got a text while I was in the concession stand at work. I'm going to put the whole conversation here, because there is no chance of him finding this blog and it's a really funny story.
Friend of Hookface 7/18 4:28- Hey!
WHAT? I hadn't talked to this guy in months and only for a few hours on that pier. Either I left quite an impression or he is lonely and desperate. From what I know about some of the Navy guys and MOST of the Citadel guys, the latter is more likely.
I didn't know if I should say anything, and I sent texts to a few friends that knew the story and asked "what should I do?" My favorite was my friend brad who responded "Play dead?"
Me 6:03- Hey (notice I have no inflection at all and I responded almost two hours later)
FoHf 6:08- What have you been up to? (of course)
Me 6:09- Working a lot. (I started responding more frequently because it was raining yesterday and the splashground was dead. I was really bored)
FoHf 6:11- Bummer, where at?
Me 6:12- A park. Selling ice cream right now. You? (I thought at this point, it was only polite to include a question mark on my end)
FoHf 6:13- Waiting for school to start up, where is the park at? (now that's a creepy question. I'm sure if the park were in the Charleston area, he would have come to find me)
Me 6:14- Roswell GA (emphasis on the GEORGIA)
FoHf 6:16- When you coming back to SC? (of course)
Me 6:59- (fourty minutes later) In a few weeks (vague). Can't wait to get outta here! (meaning work, Mom, not your lovely house)
FoHf 7:00- Sweet! Did I meet you at the pier?
what? clearly my name in his phone is not "girl at pier" or "Fish hook chick" which I guess is good?
Me 7:00- (laughing, deciding to "play it cool") I think so
FoHf 7:01- yeah fishhook? (that's not a question)
Me 7:04- haha yeah
FoHf 7:05- Cool! Sorry I didn't keep in touch!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHA
I was so busy laughing I didn't respond. For a while.
FoHf 7:25- You workin now? (get outta my business, bro!)
Me 8:08- Just got out. At grandma's house.
FoHf 8:10- Sounds fun, ya just visiting or what? (this guy must be really bored.)
At this point, I had told the story to Mumma and she was helping me with evasive maneuvers. "You should have said that you were going to move back the 15th, but your boyfriend can't move back till the 30th," she said. I looked at his last message and got an idea.
Me 8:16- I'm introducing my boyfriend to the family.
FoHf 8:19- sweet sounds fun.
Conversation OVER.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
RLS: "Friend of Hookface"
Disclaimer: I want to make sure you know that I do, in fact, want a boyfriend. It may seem from this story and the hipster trilogy that I enjoy having boys chase me and then ruthlessly denying their attempts to date me. It just happens that the funniest stories I have to tell involve boys I have no interest in, for some reason or another. You could take from this that I am too picky. Or you could just sit back, read, and enjoy.
Before I can tell you what happened today, I have to take a trip back to a few months ago.
Setting: Mid-April, 2010. My roommate and I find ourselves alone; our friends have gone to the CofC baseball game and left us behind (no hard feelings- this story never would have happened). We decide to go for a walk and end up sitting on the pier at Waterfront Park.
As Marca and I are talking, I notice next to us two guys with BMX bikes. They look about our age, with tattoos and helmets and a general air about them that suggests they hurt themselves a lot doing stupid things (most 13-year-olds are like this- also, Jackass). Eventually, one of them leaves to get some water or to flip his bike into a public fountain. Marca and I sit silent for a bit during a lull in our conversation. The remaining BMX guy takes this as his cue to lean over and ask "So, do you go to school around here?" which means one of two things when you live in Charleston:
After a while his friend comes back, and after a few minutes of talking we learn that they aren't actually friends, per se. They just found each other in town and some exchange like this happened:
Guy 1: Hey, I see you have a BMX bike! So do I!
Guy 2: We should totally ride together!
Guy 1: I'm in the Navy!
Guy 2: F***in' no way, me too. That's f***in crazy! F*** yeah we should ride together. F***IN' A!
-Three minutes later, they sat next to us on the pier.
So they start talking to each other about Navy stuff, every so often talking at us to say something about bad food or curfews. It's around this time I start thinking How am I gonna get us out of this? I'm starving! But if I say that, they'll invite themselves to dinner. Marca must be uncomfortable (I'm just projecting). I check my phone, but I can tell by the color of the sky that it's getting into later eating hours. When I look up, I see something miraculous flying through the sky to save us.
A woman at the end of the pier has been fishing with her two sons, in the background of this story. She caught a stingray early into our conversation with the first guy and we watched her husband nudge it off the pier with his boot.
Just as I'm thinking How are we going to get out of this? she casts her line parallel to the water instead of out into it and her bait and tackle comes flying through the air towards the second guy's HEAD. The triangle weight lands on top of his head and the hook grabs his left temple a bit above the hair line. A second or two of silence elapses. I don't know this man. I have no idea if he has anger issues or a rare, extra-squirty-blood disease. Finally, he says (quite gifted, this guy) "There is a hook. In my head." That seemed about the only thing he could say, and he said it several times.
Meanwhile, the woman responsible came running over, terrified, to survey the damage (it's barely in there- only a flesh wound). However, the guy (henceforth known as Hookface) insists we not take it out and instead "clip it and take the whole thing to the hospital." The woman's husband comes over to him. This man has already had to kick a stingray off a dock today, and who knows what else. He says "let me take a look" and midway through his last word, he plucks the offending hook out of Hookface's face, and all that is left is a tiny cut about the length of a pencil eraser.
Hookface still insists on the hospital, mumbling something about "paperwork." I gave him directions to the ER and helped them find Hookface's car because they had no clue where they were. On the way to finding his vehicle, the two boys unrelentingly invite us to the hospital with them. Um, no thanks. Not even if you were cute. OK, maybe if you were cute. And smarter. And stopped cursing like an old lady that's just remembered she knows how.
I saw that the only way we could leave without accompanying them to the hospital would be to jump on the phone grenade. I said "Here's my number- so you can let us know that everything's OK." And I wish I hadn't. I knew they were OK. I knew the ER doctors would give him a band-aid and some Midol and tell him to man up and get back to the Navy.
I knew he would text me that night, and maybe the next day (when I planned to have "dropped my phone in soup" so I couldn't read texts, darn). Just know that the story doesn't end here.
Before I can tell you what happened today, I have to take a trip back to a few months ago.
Setting: Mid-April, 2010. My roommate and I find ourselves alone; our friends have gone to the CofC baseball game and left us behind (no hard feelings- this story never would have happened). We decide to go for a walk and end up sitting on the pier at Waterfront Park.
As Marca and I are talking, I notice next to us two guys with BMX bikes. They look about our age, with tattoos and helmets and a general air about them that suggests they hurt themselves a lot doing stupid things (most 13-year-olds are like this- also, Jackass). Eventually, one of them leaves to get some water or to flip his bike into a public fountain. Marca and I sit silent for a bit during a lull in our conversation. The remaining BMX guy takes this as his cue to lean over and ask "So, do you go to school around here?" which means one of two things when you live in Charleston:
- He's a tourist.
- He's in the Navy.
After a while his friend comes back, and after a few minutes of talking we learn that they aren't actually friends, per se. They just found each other in town and some exchange like this happened:
Guy 1: Hey, I see you have a BMX bike! So do I!
Guy 2: We should totally ride together!
Guy 1: I'm in the Navy!
Guy 2: F***in' no way, me too. That's f***in crazy! F*** yeah we should ride together. F***IN' A!
-Three minutes later, they sat next to us on the pier.
So they start talking to each other about Navy stuff, every so often talking at us to say something about bad food or curfews. It's around this time I start thinking How am I gonna get us out of this? I'm starving! But if I say that, they'll invite themselves to dinner. Marca must be uncomfortable (I'm just projecting). I check my phone, but I can tell by the color of the sky that it's getting into later eating hours. When I look up, I see something miraculous flying through the sky to save us.
A woman at the end of the pier has been fishing with her two sons, in the background of this story. She caught a stingray early into our conversation with the first guy and we watched her husband nudge it off the pier with his boot.
Just as I'm thinking How are we going to get out of this? she casts her line parallel to the water instead of out into it and her bait and tackle comes flying through the air towards the second guy's HEAD. The triangle weight lands on top of his head and the hook grabs his left temple a bit above the hair line. A second or two of silence elapses. I don't know this man. I have no idea if he has anger issues or a rare, extra-squirty-blood disease. Finally, he says (quite gifted, this guy) "There is a hook. In my head." That seemed about the only thing he could say, and he said it several times.
Meanwhile, the woman responsible came running over, terrified, to survey the damage (it's barely in there- only a flesh wound). However, the guy (henceforth known as Hookface) insists we not take it out and instead "clip it and take the whole thing to the hospital." The woman's husband comes over to him. This man has already had to kick a stingray off a dock today, and who knows what else. He says "let me take a look" and midway through his last word, he plucks the offending hook out of Hookface's face, and all that is left is a tiny cut about the length of a pencil eraser.
Hookface still insists on the hospital, mumbling something about "paperwork." I gave him directions to the ER and helped them find Hookface's car because they had no clue where they were. On the way to finding his vehicle, the two boys unrelentingly invite us to the hospital with them. Um, no thanks. Not even if you were cute. OK, maybe if you were cute. And smarter. And stopped cursing like an old lady that's just remembered she knows how.
I saw that the only way we could leave without accompanying them to the hospital would be to jump on the phone grenade. I said "Here's my number- so you can let us know that everything's OK." And I wish I hadn't. I knew they were OK. I knew the ER doctors would give him a band-aid and some Midol and tell him to man up and get back to the Navy.
I knew he would text me that night, and maybe the next day (when I planned to have "dropped my phone in soup" so I couldn't read texts, darn). Just know that the story doesn't end here.
shhhh
This week's Post Secret secrets have some pretty creepy ones. About bodies and killing neighbor cats. But there are also some really cute ones. It makes me wonder: is this a proper cross section of the world? Some people rescuing kittens and others getting high to babysit? I guess so.
I really like the one about window mannequins.
postsecret.com
I really like the one about window mannequins.
postsecret.com
Thursday, July 15, 2010
challenge!
See if you can name the movies from these quotes!
1. Who’s scruffy lookin’?
2. I’m not Josie Grossy anymore!
3. That Sergeant Angel's coming into your shop. Get a look at his arse.
4. How come when I wanted to ask Eunice out everyone made fun of me, but then Sebastian likes her and suddenly she's cool? Screw you guys. I hate high school.
5. Someone's ear is in danger of having hair brushed over it...
6. What a fitting end to your life's pursuits. You're about to become a permanent addition to this archaeological find. Who knows? In a thousand years, even you may be worth something.
7. We are men of action, lies do not become us.
8. It’s not slime! It’s mucus!
9. If the Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down, the pirates don't eat the tourists!
10. Oh, he's very popular Ed. The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, wastoids, dweebies, dickheads - they all adore him. They think he's a righteous dude.
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