More fun than Mayonnaise... or at least equally fun... OK, it's less fun, but you're still reading...
More fun than Mayonnaise... or at least equally fun... OK, it's less fun, but you're still reading...
However, it has come to my attention that nothing is sexier than a good watch--a lie I presume was started by the rolex corporation and various father's day gift peddlers.
What say you about jewerly on men? Is it time for me to get a watch? Aren't they redundant thanks to the meticulous time keeping of cell phones?
Sat 9/2, 8pm: Player
Sat 9/2, 10:30pm: Player
Sat 9/9, 8pm: Player
Sat 9/9, 10:30pm: Announcer
Thurs 9/14, 8pm: Player
Sat 9/16, 8pm: Player
Sat 9/16, 10:30pm: Player
Thurs 9/28, 8pm: Announcer
I think I'll split the difference and call him a snake charmer so I can finally end this post before I get myself in anymore trouble.
I just want to go home. I have grocery shopping, other shopping, cleaning, unpacking, reading, relaxing and many other gerands that I want to accomplish. But my sister is dragging her feet.... wanting to watch videos, wanting to bake pies, wanting to sort through old toys. I would go outside and smash an apple in the driveway out of frustration, but there are so many bees that I would be stung to death walking back to the house, sucrose and blood dripping from my shoes.
What's the deal with posting emails? I had a really fun email I sent someone, but I felt dirty and unloyal also posting on a blog. It was much more interesting than this post.
Since roomie's been gone, I've developed the bad habit of showering with the bathroom door open and leaving the lights off. (Lord only knows how this started. I'm sure there was a logical basis like letting steam out of the bathroom.) Showering in the dark feels completely normal since you close your eyes to keep out the soap, it's a very familiar/mechanized routine and I can't see anything without my glasses anyway.
My developing shower habits bring to mind the infinite question: where have you always wanted to shower? A famous faucet like Graceland? Turning the 555' Washington Monument into your personal bathhouse? In the rain at Minnesota's great get together? No restrictions.
We met at the gym. My normal 25 min routine stretched into 45 min because we had such great conversation. But at the restaurant she only had one-word answers. I tried to talk about travel, movies, art, music, cool local attractions, shared college experiences. However....
"Do you watch a lot of TV?"
"Don't own one."
"Without TV killing your time, you must have a lot of really cool hobbies."
"No. I watch lots of DVDs on my computer."
"Cool, is there a genre you really like? Favorite actor? Series?"
"Nah."
"What did you just watch recently?"
(long pause) "Old School."
"Did you like it?"
"It was fine."
"I thought it was funny, particularly when they were regifting the bread maker... but a little too much naked Will Ferrell for me."
"I guess."
She also looked better at the gym than in the gray hooded sweatshirt she wore to dinner.
Our conversation was disjointed at the gym (pause to exercise to watch something on TV)... but those same gaps stayed at dinner and were painfully long without an activity to distract us.
She physically reminded me of a friend's woman who I have never found attractive, so that was creepy when I looked at her.
Perhaps I went to a bad restaurant since this is my second bad experience. (Last one was meeting an old kindergarten accquaintance)
It was the first time I ever blurted out "no" when the waitor asked if I wanted dessert.
Some potentially bad places:
Their dad later explained the scam and I got a priceless display of bitter faces. Dad reported this conversation between his kids while leaving last night....
C: It wasn't very nice of him to trick us on the elevator.
F: No, it wasn't.
C: It's the kind of thing that undermines your confidence.
F: I don't see why a grown man would want to harm our self-esteem.
They've got so much to learn....
A caped crusader with his sidekick of rhymed couplets, who exactly is the Anonymous Poet? He is a friend and guardian of Generation Bob's playground called in by the telltale signs of comment-dearth. Equipped with the brilliance of Mark Twain, the wit of Ambrose Bierce and the signature mask of a grandmaster ninja, he assaults boredom with sais of motif.
Your secret is safe with me. It's the least I can do.
One stop after me, the classiest woman with godly poise and glamor enters the bus. She is in her 50's, cute and spunky blond hair, beatiful blue eyes and an extremely warm smile. Every girl on the bus should master her course on self-presentation. Her black and white dress was elegant and yet flighty, like the graceful swoop of a falcon in flight.
She's got a 40 year old pious friend who sits near me depending on the configuration of the bus. (I always like the sideways facing seats. He always likes the back. On some buses our venn diagrams overlap). Through their conversations I learned that she married (or had a child that was) an olympic athlete.
Yesterday she carryied a bag of 10 beets. Plastic handles stretched from the weight. Red t-h-a-n-k-y-o-u letters distorted as only beets can do. A fresh accompiament to what is sure to be a dilicious meal.
As I exited the bus I wondered:
(A) what she looked like back when she was my age. Has she always been so beautiful? Or did she emerge from a cocoon of frumpy XL t-shirts when her little birds left the nest.
(B) what she and her husband look like going out. Simply having her on his arm makes him the best dressed man at the ball.
night(s) 1, 2: loud neighbors until 2am. complaining only yielded that she has guests who will be gone after night 3.
night 3: stay out until 1am since neighbors would keep me up. went for drinks with a really famous national improver. just being around him inspired me to be a better performer. improv is a way of life, not a 2-hour show.
night 4: dead tired, i went to bed early, took a sleeping pill just to be sure, and slept like a baby.
night 5: normal sleep. dream of visiting a magical germanic castle a few hours north of minneapolis. the front gates of minneapolis had a fountain but hidden in the fountain was a beautiful soap mold. if you brought soap mix, you could have a magestic sea-shell shaped bar. riding around town in carrage you could tell a lot about the buildings in town (all shaped like warehouses) by the varying colours of blue that were painted on them. later at a fancy-pants restaurant, i got up to go to the bathroom.... walking through the "bathroom" door was a maze of stairs, swimming pool, elevator and escalator... all amounting to an additional 10 minutes of travel to actually reach the toilet.
