my parents: get into car. drive to christmas tree farm, point at tree. cut tree, buy tree. drive home, setup tree. drink alcohol. entire process: 1 hour, 25 mins.
my husband's family: wake up early. leave house approx. 9:30 AM, after tasting homemade bread, leashing dogs, yelling, getting coffee refills, loaing laptop into car to use as navigation with mapquest, driving out to western loudoun to tree farm #1, which doesn't allow dogs and is too busy, get in car, pull off at side of the raod to consult computer, let dogs take bathroom break, attempt tree farm #2, which doesn't have big enough trees, get in car, head for tree farm #3, which is inaccessable due to road construction, spend an hour driving around the streets of Purcellville in search of an accessible road, laptop dies, drive off angrily, stop at library for human bathroom break, find a cut through a new housing devlopment to farm #3, which turns out to be some dudes house with like, 30 trees planted in front, talk to "farmer" and adorable daughter who is in first grade and has a tree house and highlights like I am willing to pay hundreds of dollars for but alas, never achieve, buy honey from farmer, get in car, stop at 7-11, drive back across county to tree farm #2, sigh, search for biggest tree on farm, eventually buy sub-par tree for too much money, cut another trtalk to farmers, rope trees onto cars, stop at Roy Rogers, head back home, collapse in sweaty heap in front of "America's Next Top Model." entire process: 8 hours, 55 minutes.
(EDIT: "But you left out so much! Like: when the jar of honey opened in your purse and spilled on your cell phone and unpaid mortgage! when I told the farmer I didn't appreciate the shame spiral she sent me into! when the D. allowed the dog to roll in bobcat feces!" -- The N.
So, right, and all that. People, it was a full fucking day, this is what I'm saying.)
Monday, December 05, 2005
Friday, December 02, 2005
Eleplunk
Hmmm.
Lady Lumps.
Dear Younger Nabob:
In a tribute to you, I'm going to bastardize my Outlook signature, just like the BEP did to themselves.
Love,
The Nabob
What you gon’ do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I’ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon’ do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I’m a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps.
Workity Work Place
(email) thenabob@gmail.com
Update:
Weekend conversation:
The N: As a representitive of the gender, when Fergie speaks of her lady lumps, it gives men the permission to refer to them as the same.
The G: Fergie doesn't speak for shit.
silver dagger
I'm not entirely sure that I haven't already mentioned this, but I caught an episode of Cooking with Paula Deen the other day where she made some sort of casserole/"salad" that contained, I'm pretty certain, 93% mayonnaise and 5% pimento-stuffed olives and 2% my fucking disgust/breathtaking awe. I can't find the recipe but I know it happened, unless I dreamed it? Can anyone else confirm??????
(Nevermind, I found it. I think. Nasty! But also kind of awesome!)
* * *
This weekend: I am buying a festive tree tomorrow for my dog to urinate on throughout the holiday season, which I'm looking forward to. Also, I'm going out tonight and that involves beer, unlike the workday, which is nice. And then I have an invitation to go drink with old-old-old friends on Sat night in Ad-Mo, so I might instead electrocute myself accidentally? And then a holiday "open house" (???) at my former bosses place on Sunday?
Anyways, wish me luck.
* * *
In other kind of similar-to-Paula-Deen news, TR and K and I are making plans to meet up in Gatlinburg and then head to Dollywood next April, maybe in place of our previously planned Chicago trip. Goals to reach!
(PS: And I had totally forgotten about the cave, too. People, that might be more important than the ostrich.
(Nevermind, I found it. I think. Nasty! But also kind of awesome!)
* * *
This weekend: I am buying a festive tree tomorrow for my dog to urinate on throughout the holiday season, which I'm looking forward to. Also, I'm going out tonight and that involves beer, unlike the workday, which is nice. And then I have an invitation to go drink with old-old-old friends on Sat night in Ad-Mo, so I might instead electrocute myself accidentally? And then a holiday "open house" (???) at my former bosses place on Sunday?
Anyways, wish me luck.
* * *
In other kind of similar-to-Paula-Deen news, TR and K and I are making plans to meet up in Gatlinburg and then head to Dollywood next April, maybe in place of our previously planned Chicago trip. Goals to reach!
(PS: And I had totally forgotten about the cave, too. People, that might be more important than the ostrich.
hold me close my tony danza
I've decided the only thing more tragic about the story of the Exploding Hearts demise is the fact that for a very long time I thought the second line in the lyrics to I'm A Pretender were "pizza parties just shatter my heart."
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Mountain Goats
ENERGIZE:
Hi. Guess what happens when you google "Von Dutch Energy Drink?"
Yeah. I know.
* * *
ABOUT TO NERD OUT VIOLENTLY ON YR SHOES RE: BLOGS/SPOILED LIB. TWAT/HUNTING SEASON:
Okay, so, if you actually have a blog vs. just spending your workdays reading blogs - has there ever been a time where you were stuck without a camera or word or anything to describe the spectacle of what you were experiencing in real life? But you felt you needed to share? My example would probably be the Cabela's retail store in Owatonna, Minnesota. I just don't know how you blog about something like this, yet it's great source material.
"I think you should start the story by telling everyone how we were closing in on Mnpls before I decided we just HAD to turn around; doubleback to take our retail chances/soak in the splendor of it all? Because you were so annoyed by that and thought we were going to miss our flight." – The N.
Cabela’s is brain-bending. There really is no story I have to related about our Cabela’s experience, really, except for the fact that we visited once, and the fact that yesterday afternoon I discovered that Cabela's has an online virtual tour/photo gallery for the Owatonna store. The Moosonee post must have triggered something.
Cabela's encompasses, in one giant Lincoln Log building:
- Guns, lots of
- Fake mountains being climbed by stuffed Rams
- An aquarium with ugly eels
- Two restaurants, one with linens
- Lots of bronzey sculptures
- Camouflage for any environment (except for "Suburban Mall Camoflauge", which if I were to design a camouflage pattern, it would be my claim to camo-fame [blinking neon and Dockers- khaki])
- Antler coat racks, lots of
- Misproportioned exhibits (tiny trees/buildings, large figures)
- Down, in many forms
Courtesy their webpage:
Welcome to Cabelas, home of indoor mountains/plaster of paris
Diorama cha cha cha.
Yum/Elk buffet
Oh but wait, there's more. One more time, Cabela's website, and with feeling:
Cabela's is asking for your help in compiling a collection of taxidermy mounts, memorabilia, and antique hunting, fishing, camping, and boating equipment. This will help us to celebrate and honor our nation's outdoor heritage. These items, to include vintage books, photographs, art, magazines, trophy mounts, fishing tackle, firearms and archery equipment will be enshrined at Cabela's world-famous retail stores. It's a great way to participate in a unique historical commemoration while preserving your collectibles and sharing them with generations to come. If you have any items you would like to donate, please send a description and, if possible, photos. If you have any items you would like to sell, prices and photos must be submitted.
Get on that shit already! Help Cabela's save the modern diorama! Cabela's begs of you! Esp. vintage books and firearms, neither of which are easy to get rid of at Salvation Army.
(PS: Via IL: and only my favorite song, like ever. Weird, I know.
Hi. Guess what happens when you google "Von Dutch Energy Drink?"
Yeah. I know.
* * *
ABOUT TO NERD OUT VIOLENTLY ON YR SHOES RE: BLOGS/SPOILED LIB. TWAT/HUNTING SEASON:
Okay, so, if you actually have a blog vs. just spending your workdays reading blogs - has there ever been a time where you were stuck without a camera or word or anything to describe the spectacle of what you were experiencing in real life? But you felt you needed to share? My example would probably be the Cabela's retail store in Owatonna, Minnesota. I just don't know how you blog about something like this, yet it's great source material.
"I think you should start the story by telling everyone how we were closing in on Mnpls before I decided we just HAD to turn around; doubleback to take our retail chances/soak in the splendor of it all? Because you were so annoyed by that and thought we were going to miss our flight." – The N.
Cabela’s is brain-bending. There really is no story I have to related about our Cabela’s experience, really, except for the fact that we visited once, and the fact that yesterday afternoon I discovered that Cabela's has an online virtual tour/photo gallery for the Owatonna store. The Moosonee post must have triggered something.
Cabela's encompasses, in one giant Lincoln Log building:
- Guns, lots of
- Fake mountains being climbed by stuffed Rams
- An aquarium with ugly eels
- Two restaurants, one with linens
- Lots of bronzey sculptures
- Camouflage for any environment (except for "Suburban Mall Camoflauge", which if I were to design a camouflage pattern, it would be my claim to camo-fame [blinking neon and Dockers- khaki])
- Antler coat racks, lots of
- Misproportioned exhibits (tiny trees/buildings, large figures)
- Down, in many forms
Courtesy their webpage:
Welcome to Cabelas, home of indoor mountains/plaster of paris
Diorama cha cha cha.
Yum/Elk buffet
Oh but wait, there's more. One more time, Cabela's website, and with feeling:
Cabela's is asking for your help in compiling a collection of taxidermy mounts, memorabilia, and antique hunting, fishing, camping, and boating equipment. This will help us to celebrate and honor our nation's outdoor heritage. These items, to include vintage books, photographs, art, magazines, trophy mounts, fishing tackle, firearms and archery equipment will be enshrined at Cabela's world-famous retail stores. It's a great way to participate in a unique historical commemoration while preserving your collectibles and sharing them with generations to come. If you have any items you would like to donate, please send a description and, if possible, photos. If you have any items you would like to sell, prices and photos must be submitted.
Get on that shit already! Help Cabela's save the modern diorama! Cabela's begs of you! Esp. vintage books and firearms, neither of which are easy to get rid of at Salvation Army.
(PS: Via IL: and only my favorite song, like ever. Weird, I know.
wherein technology fails me, again
I would be extremely appreciative if the creators of this year's "little show that could" (sarcasm, my old friend), would, you know, let completely retarded people such as myself KNOW when the show is going to run an extra five minutes. That way, people such as myself can ask their in-laws to please record television until, say 10:05 PM, so they don't MISS THE MOST IMPORTANT LAST MINUTES + SCENES.
No fear, I'm all caught up now, but when the video went to fuzz and then straight into an old episode of "Will & Grace," someone almost died. You can't imagine the heart-stopping fury that occurs when one goes from Sweaty Sexy Kate Stroking Large Magnificent Beast to that asshole with the "jazzhands."
No fear, I'm all caught up now, but when the video went to fuzz and then straight into an old episode of "Will & Grace," someone almost died. You can't imagine the heart-stopping fury that occurs when one goes from Sweaty Sexy Kate Stroking Large Magnificent Beast to that asshole with the "jazzhands."
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Moon over Moosonee
A while back, when Evite first came online (and before I developed an irrational dislike for them) one was drafted for an event that ultimately never happened. (Kid’s Choice Awards party) Since everyone already knew where I lived (parents) I thought it would be humorous to list the location as some remote faraway backwater. A few minutes of Mapquesting landed me in the down of Moosonee, a little town in the backyard of
There doesn’t seem to be a website for the Chamber of Commerce or Tourism Board but I would like to suggest a slogan for the town. I think Moosonee is Moosoneat! would be one that Urban Outfitters could really run with. Cuz making fun of
it's america; the choice for fun is yours
A random assortment of total crap from the internet/my noggin: Animal Edition
1. I am going to rename next years basketball craze "Martsch Madness" and listen to nothing but Built to Spill from playoffs to the championship
2. Shazaam.
3. I am entering month five of Dental Boycott. I didn’t have a cavity until my twenties, so I’m in denial about the fact that I now have adult teeth with adult enamel, and this big adult responsibility to take care of these adult teeth. Part of the avoidance is my new-ish dentist, a combo of robot and man, who extra-creepily-paranoid wears three sets of gloves (the second/middle pair OVER his shirt cuffs) and puts all gloves on in a weird, OCD kind of way – slowly, methodically, as if he is really really turned on by his gloves. You know he’s a latex guy. My old dentist, now that was a man I was truly in love with. He is a filthy rich Casey Kasem-looking dude with a year-round yacht tan, and he knows me by name, and I once asked him if he could file my incisors into sharp pointy fangs for me but he wouldn't, so that shows he is responsible. All his dentistry involved computer screens similar to "Minority Report." For Christmas one year, my mother bought me teeth filing/bonding to a sweet several hundred dollar tune. The bonding needs repair, and I’m pretty sure I have a full-blown cavity now, instead of just the bad spot Dr. Robot pointed out in July. SO! Do I go to handsome smiley tan Doctor Tim and pay out the ass, or do I go to Dr. R. and just deal???? People, I need your bougie opinions on my cosmetic dentistry, posthaste. PS. Related: sometimes even otters have to go to the dentist. PPS. Dentists are the only people who get angry at you if you give them business.
4. Monkeys have accents!
5. "What’s up, bitch?" in Portegeuse: "Que está acima, cadela?"
6. "Cars are poopy excrement but bikes are BMXellent:" Still waiting on new Bishop Allen album, "Clementines." Apparently We Are Scientists were someone involved/in the studio with them?
7. MANTICORE!!!!!!!!!! How did I miss this????
8. The dog's last class in "obedience school" is tonight. Here's to hoping they give them all tiny paper graduation hats with tassels to wear. There is very little funnier than an animal wearing a hat, except for maybe a pudgy kid falling off a bike or my 85 year old aunt talking about clones, but I think we've covered that.
9. Listen, if J. Hopper ever wants to, you know, hang in the Nats Cap and go see a pony show and get popsicles or whatever afterwards, may I totally extend the formal invitation now.
10. I just wanted to make it to 10. That's all. Wait! Is Bush on TV right now????????? Do I care? Is there more stuff to look at on the Internets instead? The answer is yes. Top 10 Songs that Rhyme "Bacardi" with "Party." Or, 100 Notable of 05.
1. I am going to rename next years basketball craze "Martsch Madness" and listen to nothing but Built to Spill from playoffs to the championship
2. Shazaam.
3. I am entering month five of Dental Boycott. I didn’t have a cavity until my twenties, so I’m in denial about the fact that I now have adult teeth with adult enamel, and this big adult responsibility to take care of these adult teeth. Part of the avoidance is my new-ish dentist, a combo of robot and man, who extra-creepily-paranoid wears three sets of gloves (the second/middle pair OVER his shirt cuffs) and puts all gloves on in a weird, OCD kind of way – slowly, methodically, as if he is really really turned on by his gloves. You know he’s a latex guy. My old dentist, now that was a man I was truly in love with. He is a filthy rich Casey Kasem-looking dude with a year-round yacht tan, and he knows me by name, and I once asked him if he could file my incisors into sharp pointy fangs for me but he wouldn't, so that shows he is responsible. All his dentistry involved computer screens similar to "Minority Report." For Christmas one year, my mother bought me teeth filing/bonding to a sweet several hundred dollar tune. The bonding needs repair, and I’m pretty sure I have a full-blown cavity now, instead of just the bad spot Dr. Robot pointed out in July. SO! Do I go to handsome smiley tan Doctor Tim and pay out the ass, or do I go to Dr. R. and just deal???? People, I need your bougie opinions on my cosmetic dentistry, posthaste. PS. Related: sometimes even otters have to go to the dentist. PPS. Dentists are the only people who get angry at you if you give them business.
4. Monkeys have accents!
5. "What’s up, bitch?" in Portegeuse: "Que está acima, cadela?"
6. "Cars are poopy excrement but bikes are BMXellent:" Still waiting on new Bishop Allen album, "Clementines." Apparently We Are Scientists were someone involved/in the studio with them?
7. MANTICORE!!!!!!!!!! How did I miss this????
8. The dog's last class in "obedience school" is tonight. Here's to hoping they give them all tiny paper graduation hats with tassels to wear. There is very little funnier than an animal wearing a hat, except for maybe a pudgy kid falling off a bike or my 85 year old aunt talking about clones, but I think we've covered that.
9. Listen, if J. Hopper ever wants to, you know, hang in the Nats Cap and go see a pony show and get popsicles or whatever afterwards, may I totally extend the formal invitation now.
10. I just wanted to make it to 10. That's all. Wait! Is Bush on TV right now????????? Do I care? Is there more stuff to look at on the Internets instead? The answer is yes. Top 10 Songs that Rhyme "Bacardi" with "Party." Or, 100 Notable of 05.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
shake till it ache/work that birthday cake
Happy birthday to Ben, turning 30 this very day. The first time I ever hung out with Ben, he brought 2 cases of St. Ides 40s over to S's apartment and solidified if not my immediate love and devotion, at least my 23-year old respect.
People, it was a trying ordeal, but I lived through it, and so did Ben.
(In other news, it's 67 degrees out and there are reports of snowflakes. What would be a cooler birthday present than the end of the world? Listen, it’s like Patton Oswalt says: when you get to heaven, at least then you have a very cool story about how you died. Who wants to say "hit by bus" or "heart attack" when you can say you DIED IN THE M-EFFING ARMAGEDDON??!?!!?!) This is my way of saying that I fear weird weather things and consider weather a major predictor of the Apocolypse. Maybe.
Anyways, Ben’s 30. Holy crap! Wish him a HB!
People, it was a trying ordeal, but I lived through it, and so did Ben.
(In other news, it's 67 degrees out and there are reports of snowflakes. What would be a cooler birthday present than the end of the world? Listen, it’s like Patton Oswalt says: when you get to heaven, at least then you have a very cool story about how you died. Who wants to say "hit by bus" or "heart attack" when you can say you DIED IN THE M-EFFING ARMAGEDDON??!?!!?!) This is my way of saying that I fear weird weather things and consider weather a major predictor of the Apocolypse. Maybe.
Anyways, Ben’s 30. Holy crap! Wish him a HB!
billions and billions served
As much as I complain about my current job, I am kind of pleased someone else has the epic responsibility to create DoD contracting ads nowadays.
You should see the campaigns that never make it out the door, people.
You should see the campaigns that never make it out the door, people.
do with this info as you see fit.
I really, really hate ranch dressing on salad.
Also, ranch dressing smells disgusting.
Also, ranch dressing smells disgusting.
monday night's alright, for fightin.
I AM A MAGNET FOR CROTCHETY OL BATS.
My great-aunt is recovering nicely from emergency bypass. Last night, we discussed her intense hatred for:
- Surgeons (INOVA Ffx, site of her last surgery)
- Food (Hospital, retirement community)
- Pills (Too many, too many colors, probably dying her organs green?)
- Clones (Nurses drawing excessive blood, probably making a clone of her in the nurses station)*
- Traffic
- Cat litter
- "Foreigners" (In general)
After my visit, (for which I have just been nominated for the prestigious Daughter of Millennium award, my mother is so thankful), I went and had eleventy Ravens at BP, and dem crunchy tots.
LJG was helpful to point out that 3 beers constitutes binge drinking (medical info totes courtesy Mom LJG, who you know stole it from 20/20.) K. showed pics of her niece in a velour jumpsuit bedecked with "SAWL RIVER SADDLE CLUB" or whatever embroidery, playing an autoharp like she was DJing at only the tightest New Haven club. I might (might) research kidnapping.
And then I drove home and tried to take photos of the Cavalia tents. While driving. PONYTENTS.
PS. My dog has learned a new trick. When we shoot him with a gun/finger and say bang, that is his un-PC cue to "play dead." Instead, he has learned to dramatically flip himself onto his back, stick his limbs straight out, and roll his eyes back til you only see the whites. It’s a combo of doggy seizure and rigor mortis, and it cracks my shit up, so I guess the original trick has failed but this is so much the better.
Next up I’m going to teach him to jump up and fold his paws together when I yell "AMEN BROTHER!"
The end.
* besides the dog, funniest things include an 85 year old woman ranting about clones.
My great-aunt is recovering nicely from emergency bypass. Last night, we discussed her intense hatred for:
- Surgeons (INOVA Ffx, site of her last surgery)
- Food (Hospital, retirement community)
- Pills (Too many, too many colors, probably dying her organs green?)
- Clones (Nurses drawing excessive blood, probably making a clone of her in the nurses station)*
- Traffic
- Cat litter
- "Foreigners" (In general)
After my visit, (for which I have just been nominated for the prestigious Daughter of Millennium award, my mother is so thankful), I went and had eleventy Ravens at BP, and dem crunchy tots.
LJG was helpful to point out that 3 beers constitutes binge drinking (medical info totes courtesy Mom LJG, who you know stole it from 20/20.) K. showed pics of her niece in a velour jumpsuit bedecked with "SAWL RIVER SADDLE CLUB" or whatever embroidery, playing an autoharp like she was DJing at only the tightest New Haven club. I might (might) research kidnapping.
And then I drove home and tried to take photos of the Cavalia tents. While driving. PONYTENTS.
PS. My dog has learned a new trick. When we shoot him with a gun/finger and say bang, that is his un-PC cue to "play dead." Instead, he has learned to dramatically flip himself onto his back, stick his limbs straight out, and roll his eyes back til you only see the whites. It’s a combo of doggy seizure and rigor mortis, and it cracks my shit up, so I guess the original trick has failed but this is so much the better.
Next up I’m going to teach him to jump up and fold his paws together when I yell "AMEN BROTHER!"
The end.
* besides the dog, funniest things include an 85 year old woman ranting about clones.
Monday, November 28, 2005
Private Eye Level, watching you
If you aren't reading Kriston's new Smithsonian Museum/Art Blog, well, then - you should be. Basically, he's just scored the best job in the universe. If you aren't jealous, you probably have a steel plate in yr head.
I know, I've used that joke before, and it's terrible. Agreed. Apologies to steel-plated-head folks around the globe.
Go read about art already.
I know, I've used that joke before, and it's terrible. Agreed. Apologies to steel-plated-head folks around the globe.
Go read about art already.
4th Grade Book Report Steez: All the Pretty Ponies Couldn't Drag Me Away
Dear Internets;
REPORT FROM YOUR WOMAN ON THE STREETS RE: PONYCAPADES.
Ahem. From the beginning.
So, I know someone who recently joined the circus. Kind of. For his girlfriend.
Not just any circus, but the Pony Circus.
Perhaps you have noticed the white tent tops in Crystal City of the DC tour stop of Cavalia. (The Horse-man Bond: A World of Fantasy [!!!]) Upon further study I realized that the "C" is in the shape of a horses head. Four stars, ethereal Frenchy graphics designers!
Long story short, kid's girlfriend is a "horsegirl." You know, the girl that still has unicorn posters in her cubicle and figurines of horses on her vanity (I bet she has a vanity. With a ruffled skirt.) Chick planned it like this: instead of saving up money for the 90 dollar (!!!!) tickets to this pony circus, (Editor: and $20 just to park. WTF. PONY POWER.) she decided the more logical route would be to get a job at Cavalia: Pony Circus. Somehow, GF of the Year was also able to persuade my friend into getting a JOB at C:PC. He's been working the VIP room for the past few weeks. AND he gets free tickets to the show to give to his friends. HELLS YEAH! Guess who got to go to the pony circus.
I am not so much one of those horse girls. I've been horse back riding once in my life, while out visiting cousins on a farm in South Dakota. I think it was the same trip the I drove a tractor into the barn. Not like "carefully drove the tractor inside the barn in a proper fashion." More like, "carefully drove the tractor into the barn wall."
At any rate, I wanted to go to the pony circus. Who wouldn't? The spectacle! The smells! The souvenier pony figurines! THE MAN HORSE BOND! EWW! Pre-attendance website research showed the C:PC show to be a cross between Cirque du Soleil and ye olde renaissance fair, with more horses and less scary cleavage. To my pleasure I was not mistaken.
The show consisted of horses walking around doing what I thought was pretty much normal horse type things, while elfish acrobatic people in odd leotards and scarves and LOTR apparel were running around them in circles, and jumping on top of their poor pony backs. Truthfully, I was very disappointed that the horses didn't perform any acrobatic feats themselves.
Nor were there any unicorns or space horses, which J and I were crossing our fingers for the whole time.
We did however end up having fab seats. On one side we had a saucy black woman, yelling out "YOU GO GIRL" every time one of the female renaissance elfin womyn would jump up on a horse. The woman on my other side would moan in a way that I found inappropriate and a wee bit uncomfortable and confusing every time a horse would come out. (Editor: PONYGASM.)
A third lady fell down the stairs. Jury's still out whether she was drunk and fell down, or if she was so moved by the show that she forgot how to walk...my money really is on both. (Editor: Drunk on majestic PONY POWER.)
In short, I recommend anyone who has a friend who joined the pony circus and can get you a ticket to the show, to take them up on their offers.
Espically if he's part of the VIP crew and can hook you up with some apple cider (Editor: PONYADE) and a tour of the stables.
Back into Internet hiding. I have a job, unlike some other people. Cough. Cough.
Love,
The D.
REPORT FROM YOUR WOMAN ON THE STREETS RE: PONYCAPADES.
Ahem. From the beginning.
So, I know someone who recently joined the circus. Kind of. For his girlfriend.
Not just any circus, but the Pony Circus.
Perhaps you have noticed the white tent tops in Crystal City of the DC tour stop of Cavalia. (The Horse-man Bond: A World of Fantasy [!!!]) Upon further study I realized that the "C" is in the shape of a horses head. Four stars, ethereal Frenchy graphics designers!
Long story short, kid's girlfriend is a "horsegirl." You know, the girl that still has unicorn posters in her cubicle and figurines of horses on her vanity (I bet she has a vanity. With a ruffled skirt.) Chick planned it like this: instead of saving up money for the 90 dollar (!!!!) tickets to this pony circus, (Editor: and $20 just to park. WTF. PONY POWER.) she decided the more logical route would be to get a job at Cavalia: Pony Circus. Somehow, GF of the Year was also able to persuade my friend into getting a JOB at C:PC. He's been working the VIP room for the past few weeks. AND he gets free tickets to the show to give to his friends. HELLS YEAH! Guess who got to go to the pony circus.
I am not so much one of those horse girls. I've been horse back riding once in my life, while out visiting cousins on a farm in South Dakota. I think it was the same trip the I drove a tractor into the barn. Not like "carefully drove the tractor inside the barn in a proper fashion." More like, "carefully drove the tractor into the barn wall."
At any rate, I wanted to go to the pony circus. Who wouldn't? The spectacle! The smells! The souvenier pony figurines! THE MAN HORSE BOND! EWW! Pre-attendance website research showed the C:PC show to be a cross between Cirque du Soleil and ye olde renaissance fair, with more horses and less scary cleavage. To my pleasure I was not mistaken.
The show consisted of horses walking around doing what I thought was pretty much normal horse type things, while elfish acrobatic people in odd leotards and scarves and LOTR apparel were running around them in circles, and jumping on top of their poor pony backs. Truthfully, I was very disappointed that the horses didn't perform any acrobatic feats themselves.
Nor were there any unicorns or space horses, which J and I were crossing our fingers for the whole time.
We did however end up having fab seats. On one side we had a saucy black woman, yelling out "YOU GO GIRL" every time one of the female renaissance elfin womyn would jump up on a horse. The woman on my other side would moan in a way that I found inappropriate and a wee bit uncomfortable and confusing every time a horse would come out. (Editor: PONYGASM.)
A third lady fell down the stairs. Jury's still out whether she was drunk and fell down, or if she was so moved by the show that she forgot how to walk...my money really is on both. (Editor: Drunk on majestic PONY POWER.)
In short, I recommend anyone who has a friend who joined the pony circus and can get you a ticket to the show, to take them up on their offers.
Espically if he's part of the VIP crew and can hook you up with some apple cider (Editor: PONYADE) and a tour of the stables.
Back into Internet hiding. I have a job, unlike some other people. Cough. Cough.
Love,
The D.
young n wyld n free
How it all went down:
1. Thanksgiving was the aces. The family has a tendency to pick up collegiate orphans all over the Mid-Atlantic and tease them into the back of their cars with snacks. This year, two adorable twenty-something grad students with hair like Sweet Valley High characters and awesome sweaters climbed into my Honda and traveled with us over the James River and through some woods, to my cousins house we go. The Pasadenan and a Chicagoan, who live upstairs from my younger bro’s mansionish-for-no-rent apartment, graced us with not only their presence, but also a cheese plate. (Way to my family’s heart: dairy.) I wasn’t the only one immediately smitten- these girls knew HAND JIVES. (Way to my six year old girl cousins heart: hand jives.) Also, there were two turkeys. Also, I kicked ass once again at Pictionary.
Unfortunately, the family footrace, originated in the late 80’s between my brother and my cousin, (now a mom in her forties, but still holding high school track records in the state of Michigan) was skipped this year. Lots of people are having MRIs on their knees in upcoming weeks.
My brother made my parents stay overnight in the capital of the Commonwealth just so they could all watch Hands on a Hard Body the next morning over coffee.
2. I pretty much was a hermit for the rest of my four days off, but I got some shopping accomplished, and some drinking accomplished, and my hair highlited, and then there was Friday night. (refer to #3)
3. Okay, so if I were to relate one story from the high school reunion I attended (I was +guest), I think it would be (beyond the fact that everyone was so demolished we were all lucky to be standing erect by 2 in the morning?), the one kid who looked me in the face and said “NO ONE HERE KNOWS WHO I AM” and then I said “me neither, but I didn’t go to school here” and then he said “I’m into swinging nowadays.”
Like I said, the past few days: aces.
4. Fucking Capital File!!!! How do you even exist, seriously?????
1. Thanksgiving was the aces. The family has a tendency to pick up collegiate orphans all over the Mid-Atlantic and tease them into the back of their cars with snacks. This year, two adorable twenty-something grad students with hair like Sweet Valley High characters and awesome sweaters climbed into my Honda and traveled with us over the James River and through some woods, to my cousins house we go. The Pasadenan and a Chicagoan, who live upstairs from my younger bro’s mansionish-for-no-rent apartment, graced us with not only their presence, but also a cheese plate. (Way to my family’s heart: dairy.) I wasn’t the only one immediately smitten- these girls knew HAND JIVES. (Way to my six year old girl cousins heart: hand jives.) Also, there were two turkeys. Also, I kicked ass once again at Pictionary.
Unfortunately, the family footrace, originated in the late 80’s between my brother and my cousin, (now a mom in her forties, but still holding high school track records in the state of Michigan) was skipped this year. Lots of people are having MRIs on their knees in upcoming weeks.
My brother made my parents stay overnight in the capital of the Commonwealth just so they could all watch Hands on a Hard Body the next morning over coffee.
2. I pretty much was a hermit for the rest of my four days off, but I got some shopping accomplished, and some drinking accomplished, and my hair highlited, and then there was Friday night. (refer to #3)
3. Okay, so if I were to relate one story from the high school reunion I attended (I was +guest), I think it would be (beyond the fact that everyone was so demolished we were all lucky to be standing erect by 2 in the morning?), the one kid who looked me in the face and said “NO ONE HERE KNOWS WHO I AM” and then I said “me neither, but I didn’t go to school here” and then he said “I’m into swinging nowadays.”
Like I said, the past few days: aces.
4. Fucking Capital File!!!! How do you even exist, seriously?????
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
buckle shoes/funny hats
A Thanksgiving Tale:
Until age 5 or so, my cousin's kid would wear a giant, flamboyant pink tutu at the Thanksgiving dinner table, and refuse to eat anything but dog food.
Obviously, I expect great things from her.
* * *
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, my second favorite holiday next to Halloween. Yes, Random Commenters, I probably AM getting drunk tonight.
And Friday.
And maybe Saturday.
Anyways, go visit Merge or some other website, this girl is spent. (Edit: PS, BARSUK HOLIDAY PACKAGE!)
THANKS AND ALL THAT PAZZ.
Until age 5 or so, my cousin's kid would wear a giant, flamboyant pink tutu at the Thanksgiving dinner table, and refuse to eat anything but dog food.
Obviously, I expect great things from her.
* * *
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, my second favorite holiday next to Halloween. Yes, Random Commenters, I probably AM getting drunk tonight.
And Friday.
And maybe Saturday.
Anyways, go visit Merge or some other website, this girl is spent. (Edit: PS, BARSUK HOLIDAY PACKAGE!)
THANKS AND ALL THAT PAZZ.
WOW
See below. I just got beaten to the punch.
Update: Best Man just got back into town. Says he's talked to everybody and they're all going tonight...
The piano has been drinking/not me, not me
Tonight is America's biggest bar night of the year, or so I've heard. Upon reflection, I believe this statement true- every year, I spend this night at a bar. A bar I hate with much passion. A bar I patronize only once a year: this very night, the night before Thanksgiving. There's reasoning behind this, which I won't get into.
This year, however, is different. A break from tradition. No reason to go to said bar terrible. Happiness n joylarity. Which begs the question, dear readers: What am I doing tonight that will still allow me to wake up at 7:30 tomorrow morning? Clocks: a tickin, times: a wastin. Suggestions welcome.
-----
Misc. Shit:
- I find Laura Veirs new album, Year of Meteors, particularly interesting, and usually this kind of music I find particularly UNinteresting. I think a Playskool-brand xylophone might be involved. Unconfirmed. Anyhoos, like "Galaxies." Yes.
- Footwear Graffiti.
- Holiday (wave poster) present (bird banner tee) ideas (in black) are (yes) everywhere, (zombies!) yo*. (Kidding, kind of, but I do need black boots. Electronic-mail if you've found some with a mid-high block heel [not spike] that look /feel decent. Bonus points if you've actually tried them on, have narrow heels with weird bone-spur things, and find them walkable. Basically, bonus points if you have my feet.)
- Your source for all Cash/Ostrich info: According to sources (named Shannon), the only thing that saved Mr. Cash from that ostrich was his large belt buckle. This, I did not know.
-----
(* comment from Zappos customer: "So sexy!! These shoes are so sexy!!! They really accommodate nice thick legs.")
blinkblink. yawn. more later.
This year, however, is different. A break from tradition. No reason to go to said bar terrible. Happiness n joylarity. Which begs the question, dear readers: What am I doing tonight that will still allow me to wake up at 7:30 tomorrow morning? Clocks: a tickin, times: a wastin. Suggestions welcome.
-----
Misc. Shit:
- I find Laura Veirs new album, Year of Meteors, particularly interesting, and usually this kind of music I find particularly UNinteresting. I think a Playskool-brand xylophone might be involved. Unconfirmed. Anyhoos, like "Galaxies." Yes.
- Footwear Graffiti.
- Holiday (wave poster) present (bird banner tee) ideas (in black) are (yes) everywhere, (zombies!) yo*. (Kidding, kind of, but I do need black boots. Electronic-mail if you've found some with a mid-high block heel [not spike] that look /feel decent. Bonus points if you've actually tried them on, have narrow heels with weird bone-spur things, and find them walkable. Basically, bonus points if you have my feet.)
- Your source for all Cash/Ostrich info: According to sources (named Shannon), the only thing that saved Mr. Cash from that ostrich was his large belt buckle. This, I did not know.
-----
(* comment from Zappos customer: "So sexy!! These shoes are so sexy!!! They really accommodate nice thick legs.")
blinkblink. yawn. more later.
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