We're leaving on a jet plane! Hope to post pictures etc. on our return!
See you when we're sunburned!
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Ah HA! You all forGOT didn't YOU!!!!
Today...of all days...Is the infamous Baby P "Half Birthday" extravaganza!
For the unitiated, a Cliff Notes History:
Doi, I was born on X-mas. And while the big question that begs addressing whenever I get that pitied look from folks after disclosing said birthday is: "Oooooooo, you must get gypped on gifts, huh?" Actually, not really. I think we all do pretty well. (Well, to be fair? Papa P usually gets quite a bit. But boy deserves it, yo) The one really chagrining thing about X-mas b'days is that growing up, Baby P's buddies were usually home with their family and relatives. Setting up their own toys or eating their own X'Mas meals. In other words, no Panda Party at Skateland for this bouncing boy. No swimming parties at Elm Creek. No going apeshit at Chuck E Cheese. It was the same for me as the rest of them. Sadness Pie. : (
But never fear, quoth the folks. We will celebrate MID-way through the year, so that you don't have to miss out on the festiveness which is the childhood b'day. It was dubbed, the HALF-birthday. (Or for the truncation-inclined: "H'B'Day".) Right after school'd let out, we had days and nights free to frass. We had a Panda Parties. McDonalds Parties. (And that cake they made. Awful. I'll never forget biting into one of the balloon decorative things and it was like biting old hard bland sugar.) Giving myself a bloody nose on the zip line at Elm Creek. (Face first into the gravel) And? One of my favorite H'B'Day mems:
At age 5.5, we threw a theme party at the (At the time) new BeeP's house. In the interest of being cost effective, Mama-san read in a party book on how to throw an inexpensive theme party for kids. This gimmick was to blindfold the kids, have them walk single file (Hand in Hand) and walk them threw your house/outside pre-set "obstacles" while the host (Mom) narrated. (ex: Tape a bunch of string to the ceiling and say "Watch out for the spider web" or walking us over to sheets laid down with cornflakes and warning us to "Be careful not to break the bat eggs!", and the last number= Walking us outside threw the little blue kiddie pool saying "Ooookay. We're crossing the river now, hurry across to avoid pirahna!")
When it was all said and done, I ran upstairs to ask mom if I could go swimming in the pool. (Addicted to water, I was) She acquiesed with the reminder that I was to not-under any circumstances-get my "Good" H'B'Day clothes wet. (She had full knowledge, even at that tender age, of my penchant for flinging myself in pools/lakes/ocean's while fully clothed)
So I did. In a nice little pile by the back door to the porch. Sploosh Sploosh Sploosh.
By the time the cry of "CAAAAAAAAKE" followed by "DON'T TRACK WATER IN THE HOUSE, KIDDO!!!" we all barrelled upstairs like so many stampeding water buffalo. What happens next is LEGEND!
I obeyed the letter of the law. If not the spirit. And standing there with my big brother, and little neighborhood buddies. Boys and Girls. Yes, standing there in the dining room stuffing the cake in as fast as I could masticate it: Butt-Bare-Butterball-Nekkid. Ma snapped a polaroid for posterity, showing me so many years later that what amazed her was that no one in the picture seemed to care. Oblivious. Everyone is standing around, eating cake, with this nude dude in the middle. Ah, the folly of youth.
Nowadays I do such things for pure shock value (ala' Saturday night, when either Dorajar, the curious, or myself'd wind up lifting up my kilt up for giggles. Don't worry Ma. I was hammocked)
So, I have the best old gift coming up which is getting out of Dodge for a week, and in a completely self-serving act (In addition to trying to drum up commentor's. Y'all have been ridiculously quiet. Time was when folks'd leave 6 comments a gander!) I want you to comment on the following:
A) 1st memory or any memory of yours truly that sticks in your head (Doesn't have to be from a birthday, but it'd help.
B) A great birthday memory of your own, or regarding someone else.
Word. This'll go up on LJ to, frasser's.
HAPPY HALF B'DAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!
For the unitiated, a Cliff Notes History:
Doi, I was born on X-mas. And while the big question that begs addressing whenever I get that pitied look from folks after disclosing said birthday is: "Oooooooo, you must get gypped on gifts, huh?" Actually, not really. I think we all do pretty well. (Well, to be fair? Papa P usually gets quite a bit. But boy deserves it, yo) The one really chagrining thing about X-mas b'days is that growing up, Baby P's buddies were usually home with their family and relatives. Setting up their own toys or eating their own X'Mas meals. In other words, no Panda Party at Skateland for this bouncing boy. No swimming parties at Elm Creek. No going apeshit at Chuck E Cheese. It was the same for me as the rest of them. Sadness Pie. : (
But never fear, quoth the folks. We will celebrate MID-way through the year, so that you don't have to miss out on the festiveness which is the childhood b'day. It was dubbed, the HALF-birthday. (Or for the truncation-inclined: "H'B'Day".) Right after school'd let out, we had days and nights free to frass. We had a Panda Parties. McDonalds Parties. (And that cake they made. Awful. I'll never forget biting into one of the balloon decorative things and it was like biting old hard bland sugar.) Giving myself a bloody nose on the zip line at Elm Creek. (Face first into the gravel) And? One of my favorite H'B'Day mems:
At age 5.5, we threw a theme party at the (At the time) new BeeP's house. In the interest of being cost effective, Mama-san read in a party book on how to throw an inexpensive theme party for kids. This gimmick was to blindfold the kids, have them walk single file (Hand in Hand) and walk them threw your house/outside pre-set "obstacles" while the host (Mom) narrated. (ex: Tape a bunch of string to the ceiling and say "Watch out for the spider web" or walking us over to sheets laid down with cornflakes and warning us to "Be careful not to break the bat eggs!", and the last number= Walking us outside threw the little blue kiddie pool saying "Ooookay. We're crossing the river now, hurry across to avoid pirahna!")
When it was all said and done, I ran upstairs to ask mom if I could go swimming in the pool. (Addicted to water, I was) She acquiesed with the reminder that I was to not-under any circumstances-get my "Good" H'B'Day clothes wet. (She had full knowledge, even at that tender age, of my penchant for flinging myself in pools/lakes/ocean's while fully clothed)
So I did. In a nice little pile by the back door to the porch. Sploosh Sploosh Sploosh.
By the time the cry of "CAAAAAAAAKE" followed by "DON'T TRACK WATER IN THE HOUSE, KIDDO!!!" we all barrelled upstairs like so many stampeding water buffalo. What happens next is LEGEND!
I obeyed the letter of the law. If not the spirit. And standing there with my big brother, and little neighborhood buddies. Boys and Girls. Yes, standing there in the dining room stuffing the cake in as fast as I could masticate it: Butt-Bare-Butterball-Nekkid. Ma snapped a polaroid for posterity, showing me so many years later that what amazed her was that no one in the picture seemed to care. Oblivious. Everyone is standing around, eating cake, with this nude dude in the middle. Ah, the folly of youth.
Nowadays I do such things for pure shock value (ala' Saturday night, when either Dorajar, the curious, or myself'd wind up lifting up my kilt up for giggles. Don't worry Ma. I was hammocked)
So, I have the best old gift coming up which is getting out of Dodge for a week, and in a completely self-serving act (In addition to trying to drum up commentor's. Y'all have been ridiculously quiet. Time was when folks'd leave 6 comments a gander!) I want you to comment on the following:
A) 1st memory or any memory of yours truly that sticks in your head (Doesn't have to be from a birthday, but it'd help.
B) A great birthday memory of your own, or regarding someone else.
Word. This'll go up on LJ to, frasser's.
HAPPY HALF B'DAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Bass Ackwards...
So you heard Sunday. Low key pride-ing with the Porkchops. Caturday was fairly uneventful too during the day. I got up and used my back rublet gift card to call in my complimentary one hour massage. She recognized and got the bits that have given me some area's of irritation in my trapezius/sternocleidomastiod tie-in's. (Or as I say: My twin I absorbed in utero) She told me she could tell I was a runner due to increased tension in my "ITS"...and I went home with a puffy head. (After stopping in for a small smoothie at Tao. I haven't been in a year, and a protein power smoothie seemed like a nice hippie way to round out the a.m.) I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning my house a little before Ry-gonn and Dorajar stopped over for home made fajita's and to watch a little "Ali G" and "Robot Chicken" (Bock bock bock, buh-bock bock BOCK!)
Then Mozzle came back from her show, we grabbed the Pust and all caravaned out to the B'day. I went kilted coz that's how I roll. Mozzle looked leggy and hot. And lightsabers. Oh, the aforementioned lightsabers. They're "not for connecting" with one and other, but that didn't stop the whole bally lot of us nerds from going outside and playing. Awwwww yeah.
It was a long, LONG a$$ night in spite of being so fun. So yeah, happy birthday boys. Many happy returns.
Then Mozzle came back from her show, we grabbed the Pust and all caravaned out to the B'day. I went kilted coz that's how I roll. Mozzle looked leggy and hot. And lightsabers. Oh, the aforementioned lightsabers. They're "not for connecting" with one and other, but that didn't stop the whole bally lot of us nerds from going outside and playing. Awwwww yeah.
It was a long, LONG a$$ night in spite of being so fun. So yeah, happy birthday boys. Many happy returns.
Why, Morpheus, Why?
Well. That was a full blown evening of insomnia. I went down at 10:30 after having stayed up until 3:30 the night before. (So worth it. The joint b'day party was a s#it ton of fun. Where else can you say that you frassed around with lightsabers to the wee hours? My hands were KILLING me the next day) I got up early after some guilty voicemail goading from the gay burrito to come over to a pre-pride party. This year I just, didn't wanna go. I've already filled my in-town parade quota for the year with last weeks NE parade (Unless the old torchlight parade brings me out) So he insisted I just pop over and see some old NHCC buddies and swill some mimosa's.
It was fun. Really. We et quiche, and mim's/BM's/Screwdrivers and sat around BS'ing and catching up. The sun did it's damage tho', and instead of going for a run I went into my conditioned air home to wait for Mo-Mo to get done with rehearsal. We made it through one, count it, one episode of Slings and Arrows before hitting the hay. When...nada. I was too tired to sleep. And sweating again. I couldn't keep my legs together without the perspiration driving me crazy. So it was toss, turn, grab some towels to lay down, flip, grab pillow, get cold (AC) go back under. I think I had one small weird moment of sleep where I dreamed that I was Superman and this group of villains from the phantom zone threatened my family. They then made me come out to dinner while they made frightening comments towards which my family remained blissfully clueless. I then excused myself, and flew off to distract them.
I don't even care for Superman that much.
Anyway, 12 became 1 am, 1 am became 2am, etc. Etc. By the time 5 am came around I just wanted one, solid, hour of sleep. Niente. Furg.
Today'll be...interesting, to be sure.
It was fun. Really. We et quiche, and mim's/BM's/Screwdrivers and sat around BS'ing and catching up. The sun did it's damage tho', and instead of going for a run I went into my conditioned air home to wait for Mo-Mo to get done with rehearsal. We made it through one, count it, one episode of Slings and Arrows before hitting the hay. When...nada. I was too tired to sleep. And sweating again. I couldn't keep my legs together without the perspiration driving me crazy. So it was toss, turn, grab some towels to lay down, flip, grab pillow, get cold (AC) go back under. I think I had one small weird moment of sleep where I dreamed that I was Superman and this group of villains from the phantom zone threatened my family. They then made me come out to dinner while they made frightening comments towards which my family remained blissfully clueless. I then excused myself, and flew off to distract them.
I don't even care for Superman that much.
Anyway, 12 became 1 am, 1 am became 2am, etc. Etc. By the time 5 am came around I just wanted one, solid, hour of sleep. Niente. Furg.
Today'll be...interesting, to be sure.
Friday, June 22, 2007
This is killing me...
You want a laugh? Go to wiki and look up movies that either you've seen, or not seen, and see if they have a "Detailed Plot Summary". No lie, I've gone through almost the ENTIRE Schwarzenegger canon and the summaries are frassin' HY-Sterical.
Take this little ditty from "Raw Deal":
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_%281986_film%29
"Kaminsky escapes, assisted by Monique (who has grown fond of him). He then suits up, gathers an array of firearms and raids one of Patrovita's gravel pits, eventually killing everyone and walking off with the cash left behind. He hands the cash to Monique and gets her on a chartered plane, then sets off to Patrovita's casino, hidden in a basement level of a high class hotel. There, he single-handedly wipes out Patrovita and all of his men, including Rocca. On his way out, he encounters a whimpering Baxter, and offers him a gun with the same line Baxter earlier used on Kaminsky: "Resign, or be prosecuted. Any way you want it." Kaminsky starts to walk off, and when Baxter attempts to shoot him, turns and shoots Baxter in self-defense."
I'm sure not everyone is going to find this as comical as I am, but thus spake the wiki. I also read up on Perseus vs. the Gorgon. Great stuff.
Take this little ditty from "Raw Deal":
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raw_Deal_%281986_film%29
"Kaminsky escapes, assisted by Monique (who has grown fond of him). He then suits up, gathers an array of firearms and raids one of Patrovita's gravel pits, eventually killing everyone and walking off with the cash left behind. He hands the cash to Monique and gets her on a chartered plane, then sets off to Patrovita's casino, hidden in a basement level of a high class hotel. There, he single-handedly wipes out Patrovita and all of his men, including Rocca. On his way out, he encounters a whimpering Baxter, and offers him a gun with the same line Baxter earlier used on Kaminsky: "Resign, or be prosecuted. Any way you want it." Kaminsky starts to walk off, and when Baxter attempts to shoot him, turns and shoots Baxter in self-defense."
I'm sure not everyone is going to find this as comical as I am, but thus spake the wiki. I also read up on Perseus vs. the Gorgon. Great stuff.
Feerkin' Essited
Minneapolis to Denver
Denver to Moab
Moab to Cortez/Mesa Verde
Mesa Verde to Santa Fe
Santa Fe back to da airport
Homeski and Hutch
Good lordy I can use a vacay.
Denver to Moab
Moab to Cortez/Mesa Verde
Mesa Verde to Santa Fe
Santa Fe back to da airport
Homeski and Hutch
Good lordy I can use a vacay.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Gah! I suck!
I suck worse than "Short Circuit 2"!
Okay:
Happy belated Anniversary to Ry-Gonn. The first of many. The symbol for Annie-#-one is "paper". So, uh, give her a Mead loose leaf notebook or something. (I mean for the love, Rainbow foods of all places has cleared out a section by the soup to advertise school supplies. In JUNE! Hello, let's not depress kids too soon. 'Kay? I mean, will you be pimpin' X-mas over the 4th of July? Bastiges)
Happy early Anniversary (6/29) to Mom and Dad. It's nice to see dad relaxing more.
Happy Birthdays (Belated) FeeJ, Forte', Kaiser, Grantpa, Linzie, Srustie, BeeJ, BWJ, et.al.
Happy Birthday...Today...to Daddy-O P. He turns the big 6-4 this year. Many happy returns, Papa-san.
Happy Father's Day. Spent it frassin' with the rents, admiring my big brother (And Dr. Weef's) parenting skills, and amazed myself by wishing HIM a happy father's day. (Much to my dad's chagrin. It used to be all about him. Poor guy)
Happy (early) Pride. Way to be gay!!! (And am I meeting Sssssteve and Twocherries or whart?)
I ate grilled halibut. Pip Pip. X can cook like a beast.
I went to an amazing fundraiser party. Good times.
I attended a Fijian luau and ate lamb in honor of the birth of FeeJ. This was a weekend of eating foods that my normally panic induced fanatical healthy-pants self wouldn't touch. (Steak on Father's Day, being the 2nd) I also pimped my idea for a project to her beau. Thoughts be a-brewing.
Um. Big brother is going to start fighting in BC again. Gotta get in shape.
Nordeast had there annual parade. Dorajar and I walked to it and admired the steamy seamy throngs of individuality and culture that milled around, planted on so many folding chairs. Watching the pampies scramble after dirty strewn candy. As the representatives and council members waved from convertibles. As the princesses from towns as far as Red Wing waved that familiar and strangely comforting pop and lock wave of theres, smiling their princessly smiles. Listening to the marching bands, and the step teams, and the hollering Shriner's. And getting mauled by Klondike Kate. It was such a profound, and robust feeling of connectivity that I found myself getting all emo over it.
Maybe it was the booze. Who knows.
Everyone who reads this, who hasn't seen it- Go see Uncle Vanya at TRP. I don't care if you live in Walla Walla, Washington. This is the final weekend, and it is a profoundly moving piece of work. And yeah, bias is as bias does- Dorajar does some fantastic work.
Okay:
Happy belated Anniversary to Ry-Gonn. The first of many. The symbol for Annie-#-one is "paper". So, uh, give her a Mead loose leaf notebook or something. (I mean for the love, Rainbow foods of all places has cleared out a section by the soup to advertise school supplies. In JUNE! Hello, let's not depress kids too soon. 'Kay? I mean, will you be pimpin' X-mas over the 4th of July? Bastiges)
Happy early Anniversary (6/29) to Mom and Dad. It's nice to see dad relaxing more.
Happy Birthdays (Belated) FeeJ, Forte', Kaiser, Grantpa, Linzie, Srustie, BeeJ, BWJ, et.al.
Happy Birthday...Today...to Daddy-O P. He turns the big 6-4 this year. Many happy returns, Papa-san.
Happy Father's Day. Spent it frassin' with the rents, admiring my big brother (And Dr. Weef's) parenting skills, and amazed myself by wishing HIM a happy father's day. (Much to my dad's chagrin. It used to be all about him. Poor guy)
Happy (early) Pride. Way to be gay!!! (And am I meeting Sssssteve and Twocherries or whart?)
I ate grilled halibut. Pip Pip. X can cook like a beast.
I went to an amazing fundraiser party. Good times.
I attended a Fijian luau and ate lamb in honor of the birth of FeeJ. This was a weekend of eating foods that my normally panic induced fanatical healthy-pants self wouldn't touch. (Steak on Father's Day, being the 2nd) I also pimped my idea for a project to her beau. Thoughts be a-brewing.
Um. Big brother is going to start fighting in BC again. Gotta get in shape.
Nordeast had there annual parade. Dorajar and I walked to it and admired the steamy seamy throngs of individuality and culture that milled around, planted on so many folding chairs. Watching the pampies scramble after dirty strewn candy. As the representatives and council members waved from convertibles. As the princesses from towns as far as Red Wing waved that familiar and strangely comforting pop and lock wave of theres, smiling their princessly smiles. Listening to the marching bands, and the step teams, and the hollering Shriner's. And getting mauled by Klondike Kate. It was such a profound, and robust feeling of connectivity that I found myself getting all emo over it.
Maybe it was the booze. Who knows.
Everyone who reads this, who hasn't seen it- Go see Uncle Vanya at TRP. I don't care if you live in Walla Walla, Washington. This is the final weekend, and it is a profoundly moving piece of work. And yeah, bias is as bias does- Dorajar does some fantastic work.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
I love...
Love...the fact that my workplace cafeteria has an "Imagination Bar" in lieu of a "Salad Bar". And that Wednesday's theme was "Pasta- YOUR way!" and part of the offerings was "Your Health-YOUR way" (Being that it offered whole wheat penne as a substitute)
I meandered in there to check it out. Yup. There was the wheat penne in one pan, regular in another, parmesan cheese powder in the third, and...what's that in the sauce pan? The single sauce pan? The only sauce option available?
Hamburger meat sauce.
Your health, your way indeed. As long as you eat your noodles plain.
I meandered in there to check it out. Yup. There was the wheat penne in one pan, regular in another, parmesan cheese powder in the third, and...what's that in the sauce pan? The single sauce pan? The only sauce option available?
Hamburger meat sauce.
Your health, your way indeed. As long as you eat your noodles plain.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Beck in Bleck
I'm wearing all black today. Not for some weird sense of mourning or anything like that (Well, I guess the 63rd anniversary of the Normandy Invasion could count.) It was more of "Let's stick our hand in the closet and see what kind of costume you can pull off today" kinda...deal.
Well the shirt is, how do you say, sateen? The kind where when you hug someone they'll occasionally comment on the fabric. Well this shirt poofs out a little in this pirate-y sort of way. So couple the blousing blouse with my long legs and what do you get?
The effect of a marshmallow being stuffed into two straws. A black marshmallow. And two black straws.
I'm terrible.
Well the shirt is, how do you say, sateen? The kind where when you hug someone they'll occasionally comment on the fabric. Well this shirt poofs out a little in this pirate-y sort of way. So couple the blousing blouse with my long legs and what do you get?
The effect of a marshmallow being stuffed into two straws. A black marshmallow. And two black straws.
I'm terrible.
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