Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Please turn in by Saturday, 11:59 P.M. CST.

You know what's totally bogus? Online college courses, that make up for the fact that you don't have to go to the actual class by giving you the most redundant, totally un-applicable busy work EVER. I mean, we're talking work on par with that stuff you did for that freshman year anthro class you just took to get some credits out of the way. You know, the one with the Chinese professor who droned on and on inaudibly, and pretended to ignore when students would raise their hand to ask a question? Yeah, it's like that.

You know what's awesome? Getting drunk at a wedding with live fish centerpieces, and
taking home four fishies for yourself.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Turn and face the strain.

Is it bad that I've invented a game for my nephew when he comes to my apartment, called "Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes," where he walks around the squalor I live in and picks up loose coins that have fallen out of my pockets and I haven't yet picked up? I've given him his own little wallet, and I sing to him in my best David Bowie impression.

Maybe it is, but hoo man, you should have seen the excitement when we found that Sacagawea.

Monday, July 7, 2008

And now, a public service announcement.

To my fellow bicycle riders in Chicago (and anywhere else, for that matter): please, please wear a helmet. You never know when something like this might happen.

You don't need to wear a big, baby blue one like, oh,
some of us, but wear SOMETHING.

Be proud, not embarrassed! Because you are saving your precious head. If you have ever read up on
traumatic brain injury, or worked with victims of TBI, like my friend Jenny did, then you know how important it is to protect your brain.

I mentioned this in my comment to
Lisa. This actually happened to me:

"The other day a hipster wearing only a sweatband around his head laughed at my Big Blue Helmet as I rode past him. Guess what, hipster? Your stupid, ironic sweatband won't do jack shit when your cranium meets curb, buddy."


If you DO like my big, blue helmet (and maybe have a smaller head, so your helmet won't be a ginormous beacon like mine - the guy at the bike store said, "Oh, I doubt you need a large," to which I said, "Oh, I assure you, I do"), you can find it
here. It's the Pryme 8, and while I don't see baby blue as an option anymore (huh!), there are some other fabulous colors.

Summer could end right now, and it would have still been awesome.

Oh man, Internet, I had the best 4th of July, ever.

Thursday night we rode our bikes to the Chicago Grant Park fireworks. We ended up
right on the river, and there was much debate about whether we would see any of fireworks, or if they'd be obscured by the high-rises.


Sorry the video is so crappy - fireworks are my favorite, and finales just rock my world, so I wasn't concentrating on good documentation.

Friday - oh, Friday! It started out with a 4th of July parade. Hey, did you know that llama handlers are ridiculously hot? Neither did I!

Also, if I were to own a hog, I would want it to look exactly like

From the parade, we went to my man's parents' house, where we bobbed around in the pool, and ate, oh, I don't know, probably five different kinds of meat. Then we all grabbed some lawn chairs and out on the front lawn, for a real South Side fireworks display.

Highlights include a shell that was supposed to go about 100 feet up in the air, but instead hovered about 12 inches off the ground and then blew up, nearly killing us. My man's brother had to teach the neighbors how to properly load a shell after that, probably saving a bunch of fingers in the process. Noone was hurt, making The Shell That Wasn't Handled Correctly one of the most awesome parts of the night.

Until I blew off my first roman candle:

I can't explain the jaunty hand on my hip, except that I was excited, terrified, and giddy as a cheerleader.

The day after the 4th I lazed around in that "Oh my God, it's only SATURDAY!" 3-day weekend bliss, which included several naps and a walk to the doggie store to get biodegradable poop bags. Later that night, some friends came over and we played a rousing game of Taboo on my back porch. You know, board games always seem sort of lame in my head, but then I actually play them and realize, oh! They're actually pretty fun. Especially when you haven't drunk a drop of the alco-mo-hol, but everyone around you has, and you watch their Taboo prowess deteriorate rapidly while you remain sharp as ever. Huzzah!

Sunday finally came, and I couldn't just let the party end, so Amelia and I hopped on our bikes and rode to
SummerDance, where we danced around and sort of heat-stroked, but in a fun way. And this guy asked me to dance, criticized me as we danced, THEN asked me about four times if I was going to be at SummerDance next week. Probably not, thanks to you, buddy!


So, so much fun. And now I'm back at work, and it's stormy outside, which just adds a whole new depressing slant to this Monday.

I'm going to try to post more this month. There are some awesome things on the horizon. Guess what isn't one of them? This stupid online class I'm taking for school that is supposed to start today, but noone has heard a thing about. Class, I'm over you already.