Life has been a tad crazy lately, what with work, school, kickball, skeeball and the like. I'll try to update more often now that kickball's over for two months.
Labor Day weekend was a great break from not laboring. I went to Dave and Busters for the first time and scored a sweet Jonas Brothers locked diary for 375 points.
A great addition to my life, I think.
Saturday was extra special, because I was left dumbfounded and speechless, something that does not occur often, let me tell you. I made an innocent comment about how my laffy-taffy fruit roll up thing looked like bacon, when one of my companions remarked, "eww...I hate bacon."
I may have spent the rest of the night staring at him and asking things like, "ALL bacon? Bacon bits? Turkey bacon? Why do you hate life? Are you suicidal?"
Two international students talking over lunch, one attempting to impart wisdom on living in the US to the other:
"What does 'Buffalo' style mean?" "Oh, it's another term for Tex-Mex. Like Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, you know."
"There's a good place to buy organic food that's cheap. It's Joe's...something. Uncle or something."
It took all of my willpower not to turn around and correct the guy. Actually, it took all of my willpower not to fall on the floor in a fit of laughter.
I woke up at 7:30 today, researched and registered for classes, then slept from 10:30-1:30. And I'm beat.
This past weekend was a blur of orientations, driving, crab feasting, and kickballing. The annual crab feast was as good a time as ever, and even included a random fireworks show from the next town over (and not from my aunt's yard, as is sometimes the case). I drove back to Wilmington in the worst rain ever, so bad that I had to pull into the parking lot of a CVS for 20 minutes. It made me miss brunch the next day, since I had to get up early on Sunday to drive back to DC. I hate missing brunch.
Anyway, I need to go to bed. But enjoy this informative link: http://iscaliforniaonfire.com/
Well done, Post editors! It's not like he's from a district that might matter to any of your readers, right? Michigan, Montgomery County, all the same!
Not working is all well and good, until Tuesday evening comes and you're bored out of your mind. I've already tried my top boredom solution, taking a nap, so now I'm bored and well-rested.
I got up at 7 today, which is earlier than I had been getting up for work these last few months, and took my car in for an oil change in one of the saddest strip malls in the greater Wilmington area. There's only so much time you can kill at Sears. There isn't, though, a limit on how many sandwiches you can get from Wawa, and so I had it for lunch for the second day in a row. I have a feeling it'll be calling my name this weekend as well.
Changes have been afoot here at the M Slash compound, as last Friday was my last day at work and this Friday is grad school orientation. I have spent my free time bedazzling shirts and hanging with kickball kids, so I feel it's been a good few days.
I head reffed a kickball game yesterday, and was flattered when someone on the losing team said I did a great job, "except for that one missed call." Wanting to know about any mistakes I made, I asked what it was.
"Well, bases were loaded, and I was on third. When I was running home, the catcher never tagged me, he just touched the base, so I should have been safe."
I kept asking him to repeat this, thinking I had misunderstood. "But, bases were loaded, right? And you were on 3rd? And he tagged home plate?" His answer: "Yeah, but since it was a force play, they had to tag me, not the base."
I, obviously, started laughing hysterically and telling everyone on the patio. A bitch move, yes, but if you don't know a rule that's taught in T-ball, dude, I can't help you.
I was hanging out with some people on Thursday, two of whom were relatively new to DC (6-8 months here). I forget how we got on the topic, but we started talking about Wonderland, which I said I didn't like because there are too many hipsters there. One of the newbies piped up with, "Hipsters don't go to Wonderland! It's a dive bar!"
...
Yes. According to this very nice, if misled, young man, Wonderland is not a hipster bar. For those of you outside DC, Wonderland is a bar in a gentrifying neighborhood that serves beer in goblets to people wearing ironic clothes. In fact, I believe anyone who dares to do anything un-ironically while there is thrown out. They offer the right mix of "exotic" beers and, as they call them, "great American standards":
Jesus, they have an exclamation point after Pabst Blue Ribbon! PABST BLUE RIBBON! Or, as you may know it, THE hipster beer of choice. (Although I guess they also enjoy Miller Highlife? I'm gonna say it right now: Keystone will be next.) This is damning evidence, because no one would get that excited about PBR unless they're wearing skinny jeans, converse high-tops, and a flannel shirt.
Hell, type in hipster and DC in Yelp, and look at what you get:
If you have to cut down on the amount of money you're giving for Christmas or Easter, here's a great set to fend off any complaints with a good old-fashioned guilt trip.
And, finally, I refuse to purchase these, since I only choose to remember skinny Elvis.
