last month, like i always do, i came up with a grand photo shoot idea.
dirty eves, i exclaimed. it's perfect! we can dress in leaves, go out to the garden and do a garden of eden shoot!
of course, sister c totally fell for it.
we spent hours on our look.
strapless bras, skimpy panties, both which we plastered with sticky green bean leaves so it looked as if we wore nothing but leaves.
monstrous lioness hair. crimped, ironed, ratted, and hairsprayed to the max.
deep goddess green eyeshadow lining our eyes and strike it rich gold highlighting our brow bones.
bronze dark lipstick. potent blush on cheeks.
finally, we were picture perfect.
i brought out a rihanna cd to blast from the stereo in the garage, and we headed out to the garden.
as we got to the entrance, sister c stopped and asked
did mother k and scary gary lock the gate?
of course they did, i replied.
i never thought otherwise. they always did when the left.
i kicked off my garden clogs in the pathway, and we kicked off the garden of eden shoot.
we hid in the gargantuan tomato bushes, peeked through the viny green beans, and layed amongst the spreading cucumbers. we were having a ball.
give me fairy pose!
give me goddess pose!
give me sports illustrated pose!
what's that noise?
we froze. a low rumbling could be heard. helicopters? thunder?
ups man?
shocked, we turned to the roaring source.
it turned out, the gate was not locked.
we stared, openmouthed, as the big brown box sped up the driveway.
we threw each other an outraged glance and together, in perfect synchronicity, we dived under the nearby fig tree. praying its voluptuous leaves would cover our bareness. we stifled shrieks as the big brown box came to a noisless halt.
we flattened ourselves even more into the dirt.
sister c, in the position to spy, gave me a play by play as i lay there stiff.
"he got out. he's walking towards the door. he's going around to the back where the pool is! we could have been skinny dipping! uh oh, he's coming towards the garden! he stopped! whew... he's leaving!"
we breathed sighs of heavenly relief.
we got up, brushed ourselves off, and began to walk to the garden door. only to observe it's wide open welcomeness, and the scene of my garden clogs footless in the visible path, looking as if they had been thrown off in haste.
we agreed. we were dang lucky dirty evies.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
lust without love
i was sitting here. thinking that i needed to find inspiration to resume my blogging, when sister c provided perfect blogging fodder.
i was rereading old blog posts, when out of the blue she says:
-remember craig? didn't i tell you about him?
i roll my eyes.
+yes sister c, you went on about him just the other day. the older science guy with the two kids, right?
-right, she sighed.
silence. i waited for the inevitable to continue.
-he was the sexiest man i've ever met.
(my eyes bulged at these foreign words coming out of her mouth)
-he was cute and everything, but just something about him was so sexy.
-you know,
(my attention started to wander as she took a deep breath)
-if he had ducked into a science room, i would have ducked in with him.
screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech...my mind halted. i blinked. numerous times. what?
+uh, i said, staring at her, i'm assuming you wouldn't be talking about black holes. at least not scientific ones.
she gave an embarrassed giggle.
-oh stop it. i was just thinking that that was total lust without love. i've never felt so instinctively attracted to someone before.
i held myself immobilized as her statements washed over me. my body quivered in offense to this wrong, oh so very wrong conversation.
as much as i tried to muffle her, one last statement spilled out
-i wrote two poems about hiiiimmmmmuffle.
i forbid myself to even entertain the thought of these two poems. what could be written in them could scar me for life.
i was rereading old blog posts, when out of the blue she says:
-remember craig? didn't i tell you about him?
i roll my eyes.
+yes sister c, you went on about him just the other day. the older science guy with the two kids, right?
-right, she sighed.
silence. i waited for the inevitable to continue.
-he was the sexiest man i've ever met.
(my eyes bulged at these foreign words coming out of her mouth)
-he was cute and everything, but just something about him was so sexy.
-you know,
(my attention started to wander as she took a deep breath)
-if he had ducked into a science room, i would have ducked in with him.
screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech...my mind halted. i blinked. numerous times. what?
+uh, i said, staring at her, i'm assuming you wouldn't be talking about black holes. at least not scientific ones.
she gave an embarrassed giggle.
-oh stop it. i was just thinking that that was total lust without love. i've never felt so instinctively attracted to someone before.
i held myself immobilized as her statements washed over me. my body quivered in offense to this wrong, oh so very wrong conversation.
as much as i tried to muffle her, one last statement spilled out
-i wrote two poems about hiiiimmmmmuffle.
i forbid myself to even entertain the thought of these two poems. what could be written in them could scar me for life.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
a long-needed sighting of mr pompom
i am happy to announce that i have had a recent sighting of mr pompom! now that i am not a part of chemistry any more, i have felt the severe loss of not seeing mr pompom on a nearly daily basis.
the sighting
so just because it was convenient, i decided to use one of the upper-level science computer labs to print out some miscellaneous papers. i trekked up the two flights, and arrived in a moderately filled computer lab. i spotted an open computer and plopped down. the chair to my right was empty, but the computer was in use.
i started to take care of business, when plop! the mysterious computer user had returned. and to my pleasure and surprise it was mr pompom! i rejoiced at the sight of his grizzly beard, fuzzy head of hair, dumbledore glasses, and quirky baseball cap. i grinned.
out of my periphery, i noticed that he was working on a chemistry lab write-up. and was having a pretty tough time with it.
this was evidenced by the heavy sighs, grunts, moans, "under-his-breath" mutterings, and fist pounds that conveyed his frustration.
and like only mr pompom can do, after each sigh/grunt/moan/mutter/fist pound (which i believe were all a slight bit exaggerated for dramatic effect) he would slowly angle his head and peek at my expression. after the tenth time, i couldn't help but giggle and give him a huge grin.
ahhh...i adore him.
the sighting
so just because it was convenient, i decided to use one of the upper-level science computer labs to print out some miscellaneous papers. i trekked up the two flights, and arrived in a moderately filled computer lab. i spotted an open computer and plopped down. the chair to my right was empty, but the computer was in use.
i started to take care of business, when plop! the mysterious computer user had returned. and to my pleasure and surprise it was mr pompom! i rejoiced at the sight of his grizzly beard, fuzzy head of hair, dumbledore glasses, and quirky baseball cap. i grinned.
out of my periphery, i noticed that he was working on a chemistry lab write-up. and was having a pretty tough time with it.
this was evidenced by the heavy sighs, grunts, moans, "under-his-breath" mutterings, and fist pounds that conveyed his frustration.
and like only mr pompom can do, after each sigh/grunt/moan/mutter/fist pound (which i believe were all a slight bit exaggerated for dramatic effect) he would slowly angle his head and peek at my expression. after the tenth time, i couldn't help but giggle and give him a huge grin.
ahhh...i adore him.
may i see your contact sheets?
for my final project in photography, i decided to make an idea i had ruminating in my mind for some time, into reality. the idea was this: to do a photo shoot that was reminiscent of 1920 french nude postcards, except that the models would be wearing black lace panties, corsets, tights ect, and perhaps in some frames nothing at all.
who were the models? me and daylily. sister c was supposed to be the third but due to her crash injury (big gash in forehead) she opted out.
because of the depth of my excitement for the shoot, i put a motherload of thought and effort into making a decent set, appropriate erotic outfits, and even invested in yards of black lace and black cotton fabric.
i was pumped. the day came and passed. everything went fairly smoothly, and i was sure i had gotten some good pictures.
a few days later, when i had a big chunk of free time, i decided to develop the three rolls of film i had taken, and enlarge some of the decent ones. i developed the film alone, and without incident. but when the time came to start enlarging some pictures, my professor came into the photo lab.
i greeted him (description: young, glasses, more sensitively effeminate than ruggedly mannish)and instead of responding and leaving me to my own devices he kept walking over to my station.
-so how's your project going?
+oh, good. i did a shoot over the weekend and took three rolls, so i hope i got some good pictures.
-what is it that you did?
+oh, well. (i hemmed and hawed). my idea was to do a shoot reminiscent of the 1920s burlesque and pinup girls and such. with lots of black lace. (i tried to stay in safe and tactful zone).
-oh really? may i see the contact sheets when they're done?
my eyes shuttered as my tongue stuck to the roof of my suddenly dry mouth. like someone right before death, my photo shoot flashed before my eyes.
daylily naked, daylily with corset and panties, ME with playboy-esque black bunny outfit, ME with only tights and black lace panties... you get the picture.
ME.
+uhhhhhhhhh... sure. (what was i supposed to say?)
i zoomed into the dark room, where i sequestered myself for the following three hours. every time i ventured out of the safe haven, i peeked my head out of the curtains and scoped out the working area. professor absent? i went out. professor present? i slowly retracted my head and sped back into my cave.
once when i had to go out into the light and check on the test strip i had made, i unwittingly went out. i glanced at the tables. professor and teacher's aide present and talking. whipped my head back to me test strip, strove to look extremely focused and busy. and marched straight back into the dark room. throwing open the curtains as i went.
having passed that crucial day unscathed, i now feel that my contacts will remain pure from the professors gaze. if he happens to request a viewing, they are officially lost, retired, gone, back at home, ect...
who were the models? me and daylily. sister c was supposed to be the third but due to her crash injury (big gash in forehead) she opted out.
because of the depth of my excitement for the shoot, i put a motherload of thought and effort into making a decent set, appropriate erotic outfits, and even invested in yards of black lace and black cotton fabric.
i was pumped. the day came and passed. everything went fairly smoothly, and i was sure i had gotten some good pictures.
a few days later, when i had a big chunk of free time, i decided to develop the three rolls of film i had taken, and enlarge some of the decent ones. i developed the film alone, and without incident. but when the time came to start enlarging some pictures, my professor came into the photo lab.
i greeted him (description: young, glasses, more sensitively effeminate than ruggedly mannish)and instead of responding and leaving me to my own devices he kept walking over to my station.
-so how's your project going?
+oh, good. i did a shoot over the weekend and took three rolls, so i hope i got some good pictures.
-what is it that you did?
+oh, well. (i hemmed and hawed). my idea was to do a shoot reminiscent of the 1920s burlesque and pinup girls and such. with lots of black lace. (i tried to stay in safe and tactful zone).
-oh really? may i see the contact sheets when they're done?
my eyes shuttered as my tongue stuck to the roof of my suddenly dry mouth. like someone right before death, my photo shoot flashed before my eyes.
daylily naked, daylily with corset and panties, ME with playboy-esque black bunny outfit, ME with only tights and black lace panties... you get the picture.
ME.
+uhhhhhhhhh... sure. (what was i supposed to say?)
i zoomed into the dark room, where i sequestered myself for the following three hours. every time i ventured out of the safe haven, i peeked my head out of the curtains and scoped out the working area. professor absent? i went out. professor present? i slowly retracted my head and sped back into my cave.
once when i had to go out into the light and check on the test strip i had made, i unwittingly went out. i glanced at the tables. professor and teacher's aide present and talking. whipped my head back to me test strip, strove to look extremely focused and busy. and marched straight back into the dark room. throwing open the curtains as i went.
having passed that crucial day unscathed, i now feel that my contacts will remain pure from the professors gaze. if he happens to request a viewing, they are officially lost, retired, gone, back at home, ect...
how to achieve the wind-mill effect
there's this little trick i've been playing on mother k. she complains that it destroys her delicate sensibilities. i say, it's great fun. and entertainment.
PROCEDURES TO ACHIEVE DESIRED WIND-MILL EFFECT:
acquire mother k's cell phone. try to find it when it's not attached to her butt, hip, or breast
if she is in the same room, move to an adjacent one, out of her far-sighted sight
station yourself-ex: chair, couch, stool...
open phone, search for the sounds category, find ring tone (lovesway-scary gary's, bossabutgo-sister c's, tea in the afternoon-daylily's), play a snippet of the ringtone
pause background sounds
if no footsteps are to be heard, start shouting--> get the phone, get the phone
upon hearing what sounds like a stampede, sit back and enjoy the show
THE WIND-MILL EFFECT IN ACTION:
immediately after hearing her hunny's ring, or her precious daughter's, mother k shoots out of her throne (whether it be lavatory or otherwise)and rushes into the room her ears lead her to
as she gallops into the room at a frantic and harried pace, she flails her arms in a frenetic whirling motion. circular and whippy, her arms appear as if noodles just out al dente from their boiling water bath. (hence THE WIND-MILL EFFECT)
her face is lightly shiny from perspiration thanks to her run, and her eyes are focused on the small black piece of technology in my hands
as this odd behavior is exhibited, she screeches
give it to me, GIVE IT TO ME!
i proceed to do just that
she puts it up to her ear, not bothering to look at the screen (which tells all), and breathes out a hello
only to be met with silence
JUNE! she throws down the phone in a fit. JUNE!
her eyes squint in anger, and again her arms resume their flailing motion as she launches herself at me like a tiger.
i run. the chase commences.
PROCEDURES TO ACHIEVE DESIRED WIND-MILL EFFECT:
acquire mother k's cell phone. try to find it when it's not attached to her butt, hip, or breast
if she is in the same room, move to an adjacent one, out of her far-sighted sight
station yourself-ex: chair, couch, stool...
open phone, search for the sounds category, find ring tone (lovesway-scary gary's, bossabutgo-sister c's, tea in the afternoon-daylily's), play a snippet of the ringtone
pause background sounds
if no footsteps are to be heard, start shouting--> get the phone, get the phone
upon hearing what sounds like a stampede, sit back and enjoy the show
THE WIND-MILL EFFECT IN ACTION:
immediately after hearing her hunny's ring, or her precious daughter's, mother k shoots out of her throne (whether it be lavatory or otherwise)and rushes into the room her ears lead her to
as she gallops into the room at a frantic and harried pace, she flails her arms in a frenetic whirling motion. circular and whippy, her arms appear as if noodles just out al dente from their boiling water bath. (hence THE WIND-MILL EFFECT)
her face is lightly shiny from perspiration thanks to her run, and her eyes are focused on the small black piece of technology in my hands
as this odd behavior is exhibited, she screeches
give it to me, GIVE IT TO ME!
i proceed to do just that
she puts it up to her ear, not bothering to look at the screen (which tells all), and breathes out a hello
only to be met with silence
JUNE! she throws down the phone in a fit. JUNE!
her eyes squint in anger, and again her arms resume their flailing motion as she launches herself at me like a tiger.
i run. the chase commences.
coffee snob vs. coffee slut
mother k= the coffee snob
me, june jaynes= the coffee slut
let me define these terms.
coffee snob: a caffeine junkie who holds high expectations about the quality of coffee beans, only drinks smooth and non-acidic brew, and buys their daily java for exorbitant prices off the internet
coffee slut: a caffeine junkie who expects nothing of their coffee, and their only requirement is that it gives them the desired buzz
me, june jaynes= the coffee slut
let me define these terms.
coffee snob: a caffeine junkie who holds high expectations about the quality of coffee beans, only drinks smooth and non-acidic brew, and buys their daily java for exorbitant prices off the internet
coffee slut: a caffeine junkie who expects nothing of their coffee, and their only requirement is that it gives them the desired buzz
recycling bins: theft or opportunity?
everyday, on my way to my room, i always pass by the bright blue row of recycling bins. before now, i have virtually ignored their existence, just seeing them as another form of garbage cans, but not now. now, that is not the case. now, i see them as big bins of cash, just waiting to be taken advantage of.
it all stemmed from an epiphany i had. i had just finished chugging down my water when i took a real good look at the bottle. CASH REFUND CA HI and OR 5₵. i froze, amazed at my find. even though i did know that water bottles could now be recycled for $$, it hadn’t really clicked. then, my brain got to thinking. if i didn’t remember, then a whole lot of other people probably didn’t either.
i tested this hypothesis by going in search of the mini recycle bin on our floor. i peeked in the plastic labeled crate and voila! mother lode. mutha uckin lode. i ran back into my room, grabbed a reusable shopping bag, unlocked my door and propped it open, ran back into the laundry room, grabbed as many bottles as i could, and fled from the crime scene. i was fifty cents richer.
thus began my raids on the small recycling bins. but after a week, i was ready to take on the big daddies. the big bright blue bins that i regularly walked past every day. the oh-so-convenient bins that made it so easy to drop in one’s recycling as they walked past them. i made plans—plans that included getting up really early in the morning, sneaking downstairs to their location, and pilfering them all.
unfortunately, my plans blew up into tiny little plastic fragments, after mother k so sweetly said: isn’t taking plastic bottles from the recycling bins a crime? i thought, wondered, and stewed about this for days. is it? or is it just a shady opportunity? what would happen if i did get caught? would i get punished, and then become notorious around campus as the plastic pilferer?
then one day my turf was invaded. i was washing strawberries in the sink in the laundry room, when a gaggle of girls stampeded in.
quick! two said.
the third took four steps in, glanced at the plastic recycling bin, realized it was empty of treasure, and altogether they bolted. i was furious. i had abstained from my possibly criminal activities just to be shown up like that? oh hell no.
relying on your discretion, i now do admit the occasional ransacking of crates. only when i am there, and only when no one is about. i have begun to store them safely in the second closet in my room. i await the day when i have enough to buy something of substance.
it all stemmed from an epiphany i had. i had just finished chugging down my water when i took a real good look at the bottle. CASH REFUND CA HI and OR 5₵. i froze, amazed at my find. even though i did know that water bottles could now be recycled for $$, it hadn’t really clicked. then, my brain got to thinking. if i didn’t remember, then a whole lot of other people probably didn’t either.
i tested this hypothesis by going in search of the mini recycle bin on our floor. i peeked in the plastic labeled crate and voila! mother lode. mutha uckin lode. i ran back into my room, grabbed a reusable shopping bag, unlocked my door and propped it open, ran back into the laundry room, grabbed as many bottles as i could, and fled from the crime scene. i was fifty cents richer.
thus began my raids on the small recycling bins. but after a week, i was ready to take on the big daddies. the big bright blue bins that i regularly walked past every day. the oh-so-convenient bins that made it so easy to drop in one’s recycling as they walked past them. i made plans—plans that included getting up really early in the morning, sneaking downstairs to their location, and pilfering them all.
unfortunately, my plans blew up into tiny little plastic fragments, after mother k so sweetly said: isn’t taking plastic bottles from the recycling bins a crime? i thought, wondered, and stewed about this for days. is it? or is it just a shady opportunity? what would happen if i did get caught? would i get punished, and then become notorious around campus as the plastic pilferer?
then one day my turf was invaded. i was washing strawberries in the sink in the laundry room, when a gaggle of girls stampeded in.
quick! two said.
the third took four steps in, glanced at the plastic recycling bin, realized it was empty of treasure, and altogether they bolted. i was furious. i had abstained from my possibly criminal activities just to be shown up like that? oh hell no.
relying on your discretion, i now do admit the occasional ransacking of crates. only when i am there, and only when no one is about. i have begun to store them safely in the second closet in my room. i await the day when i have enough to buy something of substance.
Monday, May 18, 2009
dangers of off-road vehicles
a day never goes by, without my life almost escaping my grasp. the reason for this? bicyclists and skateboarders. they are a dangerous nuisance.
i would be minding my own business, walking down a skinny side walk, when a cyclist speeds toward me, fully expecting me to move to the side. i do, to the minimal extent. i intend on not giving an inch to these irresponsible idiots. they ride by, so close, my hair whips up in irritated response.
take for instance, today. after lab at four, i began making my way back to the dorms, focused on the walk, when i heard a faceless someone struggling to pedal behind me. i huffed and moved to the side. only to be nearly impaled by a guy and his beach cruiser. apparently when i sided right, he sided right. right into me. well almost. i gave him a look, and he said sorry, but sorry doesn't make my heart go back to normal. i resumed my fast walking, and he trailed slowly along behind me, like a stalker, until we reached the pavement where he sped and passed me. grrrr....
the skateboarders are ten times as dangerous. they roll off at alarming speeds, down populated walkways, without any thought to all the lives they could crash into. i haven't had an instance yet, but i am just waiting. just waiting for the day.
i would be minding my own business, walking down a skinny side walk, when a cyclist speeds toward me, fully expecting me to move to the side. i do, to the minimal extent. i intend on not giving an inch to these irresponsible idiots. they ride by, so close, my hair whips up in irritated response.
take for instance, today. after lab at four, i began making my way back to the dorms, focused on the walk, when i heard a faceless someone struggling to pedal behind me. i huffed and moved to the side. only to be nearly impaled by a guy and his beach cruiser. apparently when i sided right, he sided right. right into me. well almost. i gave him a look, and he said sorry, but sorry doesn't make my heart go back to normal. i resumed my fast walking, and he trailed slowly along behind me, like a stalker, until we reached the pavement where he sped and passed me. grrrr....
the skateboarders are ten times as dangerous. they roll off at alarming speeds, down populated walkways, without any thought to all the lives they could crash into. i haven't had an instance yet, but i am just waiting. just waiting for the day.
the interrupted shower
i was sitting here blogging, when an memory suddenly assailed my senses.
it was awhile ago when i was taking a shower, perhaps at about ten o clock at night, and i was concentrating fully on getting my body and hair cleaned in a timely manner (thirty minutes is the quickest i get), when someone else came in to take a shower too. not surprising in the least.
both of us were absorbed within each of our cubicles, when i hear the door open and a masculine voice shout out.
i jumped and automatically covered my womanly parts, my heart racing. wtf?
i stood stock still and listened to what the voice had to say.
hey (girl's name) do you want me to keep you company?
my eyes bulged at this offer. i was silently going a little crazy at this unexpected turn of events.
then my heart quieted down, as my neighbor replied with a giggling, no.
perhaps then, the boy had noticed me, a stranger naked behind the rubber ducky shower curtain.
it was awhile ago when i was taking a shower, perhaps at about ten o clock at night, and i was concentrating fully on getting my body and hair cleaned in a timely manner (thirty minutes is the quickest i get), when someone else came in to take a shower too. not surprising in the least.
both of us were absorbed within each of our cubicles, when i hear the door open and a masculine voice shout out.
i jumped and automatically covered my womanly parts, my heart racing. wtf?
i stood stock still and listened to what the voice had to say.
hey (girl's name) do you want me to keep you company?
my eyes bulged at this offer. i was silently going a little crazy at this unexpected turn of events.
then my heart quieted down, as my neighbor replied with a giggling, no.
perhaps then, the boy had noticed me, a stranger naked behind the rubber ducky shower curtain.
the horrors of garage sale-ing
you know when at first you are really excited and upbeat about something, and then when you come upon it face to face, you back away and shrivel up? yeah. this is how garage sale-ing affects me.
so friday night, when the paper was brought up, courtesy of scary gary, i pounced on it at the first chance i got. i had the crazy whim to go garage sale-ing the next day. reminiscing back, i realized that i hadn't gone to a garage sale in nigh eight years. my nostalgia, unfortunately did not arrive with the requisite and remembered feelings that were coupled with the memory.
so armed with a battered newspaper listing all of the local garage sales, six highlighted with a big yellow box, i persuaded mother k to chauffeur me to all of my desired locations. she grudgingly agreed.
we headed down one street, then another, and then arrived at betty lane. the site of the first promising sale. as the car drove closer to the place, my temple began to ache, hands became clammy, and pulse reacted radically to a sudden "flight or fight" response. i crouched down in my seat and managed to painfully whisper out a "backup backup backup leave leave leave" to mother k, who promptly ignored my unexpected histrionics.
she ignored, parked, braked, and turned off the car. expecting me to unglue myself from the seat and leave my safe place. i finally made myself, and together we made our way to the scantily populated garage sale. and by scantily populated i mean scantily populated in people and items. i had nabbed a dud.
we forced ourselves to smile at the owners and provide the expected hello, and then we made ourselves take a quick and fleeting tour of the sale (remarking upon the slightly exorbitant prices of antique trunks and an old door) and then we made our escape.
afterwards, we laughed at the outrageousness that one garage sale can incur upon ones emotions, and then mother k rebuked me for unknowingly choosing a garage sale that had opened the previous day.
obviously, she said, there won't be anything good left. she was right.
so friday night, when the paper was brought up, courtesy of scary gary, i pounced on it at the first chance i got. i had the crazy whim to go garage sale-ing the next day. reminiscing back, i realized that i hadn't gone to a garage sale in nigh eight years. my nostalgia, unfortunately did not arrive with the requisite and remembered feelings that were coupled with the memory.
so armed with a battered newspaper listing all of the local garage sales, six highlighted with a big yellow box, i persuaded mother k to chauffeur me to all of my desired locations. she grudgingly agreed.
we headed down one street, then another, and then arrived at betty lane. the site of the first promising sale. as the car drove closer to the place, my temple began to ache, hands became clammy, and pulse reacted radically to a sudden "flight or fight" response. i crouched down in my seat and managed to painfully whisper out a "backup backup backup leave leave leave" to mother k, who promptly ignored my unexpected histrionics.
she ignored, parked, braked, and turned off the car. expecting me to unglue myself from the seat and leave my safe place. i finally made myself, and together we made our way to the scantily populated garage sale. and by scantily populated i mean scantily populated in people and items. i had nabbed a dud.
we forced ourselves to smile at the owners and provide the expected hello, and then we made ourselves take a quick and fleeting tour of the sale (remarking upon the slightly exorbitant prices of antique trunks and an old door) and then we made our escape.
afterwards, we laughed at the outrageousness that one garage sale can incur upon ones emotions, and then mother k rebuked me for unknowingly choosing a garage sale that had opened the previous day.
obviously, she said, there won't be anything good left. she was right.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
cornfl*ke
recently scary gary had a fit of impetigo. and when he has impetigo he HAS impetigo. not little mouth sore. but BIG mouth sore. poor man. poor wife who has to kiss it.
so last week i ventured home to hang, and when i walked through the door i was greeted with scary gary, his impetigo, the scab over his impetigo and his lips rushing forward to kiss me "welcome home."
i was horrified. i stepped back and in my startled shock yelled out
get that cornflake away from me!
thus his new nickname: affectionately, cornflake.
a brief personality summary of scary gary: he is tremendously vain about his appearance. quite succinct but it does the job. he must have been born with more than a regular amount of feminine genes evidenced by the amount of time he spends inspecting himself in the mirror. i'm surprised he doesn't use hair gel.
so after using his new name quite frequently (ex. dip that cornflake in some milk man!, mommy wants some cereal!, well you've got breakfast to-go today!)frustration began to mount in his attitude. and one night it erupted.
hey cornflake! i shouted. as we were gathered around the television. he turned to me and shouted back
hey buttflake!
and when scary gary resorts to such crude terms, its business time.
mother k interjected with a
don't say that scary gary, that is rude and uncalled for.
i smirked. scary gary blew up in an explosion that rivaled mt vesuvius.
tell her to stop calling me cornflake! i'd rather be called buttflake or even scab face!
he pouted.
me and mother k giggled at his obvious and unwarranted offense to my creative and grainy term of endearment.
so now, i try to alleviate his offense with saying hey cornfl*ke instead. censoring out the important a. yet still getting my meaning across.
point one june jaynes. point oh scary gary.
so last week i ventured home to hang, and when i walked through the door i was greeted with scary gary, his impetigo, the scab over his impetigo and his lips rushing forward to kiss me "welcome home."
i was horrified. i stepped back and in my startled shock yelled out
get that cornflake away from me!
thus his new nickname: affectionately, cornflake.
a brief personality summary of scary gary: he is tremendously vain about his appearance. quite succinct but it does the job. he must have been born with more than a regular amount of feminine genes evidenced by the amount of time he spends inspecting himself in the mirror. i'm surprised he doesn't use hair gel.
so after using his new name quite frequently (ex. dip that cornflake in some milk man!, mommy wants some cereal!, well you've got breakfast to-go today!)frustration began to mount in his attitude. and one night it erupted.
hey cornflake! i shouted. as we were gathered around the television. he turned to me and shouted back
hey buttflake!
and when scary gary resorts to such crude terms, its business time.
mother k interjected with a
don't say that scary gary, that is rude and uncalled for.
i smirked. scary gary blew up in an explosion that rivaled mt vesuvius.
tell her to stop calling me cornflake! i'd rather be called buttflake or even scab face!
he pouted.
me and mother k giggled at his obvious and unwarranted offense to my creative and grainy term of endearment.
so now, i try to alleviate his offense with saying hey cornfl*ke instead. censoring out the important a. yet still getting my meaning across.
point one june jaynes. point oh scary gary.
oh. go talk to a tree. and pretend its me.
ever since sister c has acquired a boy toy, i never hear enough of her voice.
he looked into my eyes. he held my hand. he whispered i love you. he kissed my neck. he said i was his beautiful girl. he said i was sexy. ooooh! he kissed my...
let me tell you my opinion on this romantic diarrhea of the mouth that this girl insists on spilling to me.
all i want to hear about her date night, is the bare minimum. not the oohey gooey names he called her or the sugary looks he gave her, just if they kissed (tongue, lips ect...)and if she had a good time. not the frou frou or sprinkles on the cupcake. just the cupcake. no. just the crumb of the cupcake.
so now i don't ask how the date went. i pretend it didn't happen. and when we are both sitting in a library study room (she supposedly studying and me reading) my ignorance gets her goat. and all is spilled. and all is revealed. every minute of her mouth makes me cringe inside and outside, makes my hands fly up to cover my eyes, and makes my mouth open in a desperate and hysterical laugh.
my present tactic to stem her never ending flow, is this:
sister c. go talk to a tree. and pretend its me.
all she does is her outraged laugh. and continues to force her monologue upon me.
he looked into my eyes. he held my hand. he whispered i love you. he kissed my neck. he said i was his beautiful girl. he said i was sexy. ooooh! he kissed my...
let me tell you my opinion on this romantic diarrhea of the mouth that this girl insists on spilling to me.
all i want to hear about her date night, is the bare minimum. not the oohey gooey names he called her or the sugary looks he gave her, just if they kissed (tongue, lips ect...)and if she had a good time. not the frou frou or sprinkles on the cupcake. just the cupcake. no. just the crumb of the cupcake.
so now i don't ask how the date went. i pretend it didn't happen. and when we are both sitting in a library study room (she supposedly studying and me reading) my ignorance gets her goat. and all is spilled. and all is revealed. every minute of her mouth makes me cringe inside and outside, makes my hands fly up to cover my eyes, and makes my mouth open in a desperate and hysterical laugh.
my present tactic to stem her never ending flow, is this:
sister c. go talk to a tree. and pretend its me.
all she does is her outraged laugh. and continues to force her monologue upon me.
the guy i see everywhere
so there's this guy. he's tall, wears vagrant reminiscent clothing, has brown midlength dredlocks, smokes, and wanders. and i see him everywhere.
and not just while walking to class, where i may see the same people every other day, but also when i happen to be going somewhere at an odd hour of the day to an odd location.
perhaps to the library at six thirty, or to the science building early, or maybe just on my way back from being late at the photo lab. i always happen to run into him. and this has happened such an inordinate amount that i have been unable to write it off as being coincidental. now, i write it off as being preordained.
sometimes, when i come upon him, i want to walk up to his face and say: gosh! i see you everywhere! but since he smokes, i have no desire to be surrounded by the toxic haze, even if its coming from his lips (or through his nostrils).
instead, i neglect making straight eye contact and go on my way, pretending i did not just see
the guy i see
everywhere.
and not just while walking to class, where i may see the same people every other day, but also when i happen to be going somewhere at an odd hour of the day to an odd location.
perhaps to the library at six thirty, or to the science building early, or maybe just on my way back from being late at the photo lab. i always happen to run into him. and this has happened such an inordinate amount that i have been unable to write it off as being coincidental. now, i write it off as being preordained.
sometimes, when i come upon him, i want to walk up to his face and say: gosh! i see you everywhere! but since he smokes, i have no desire to be surrounded by the toxic haze, even if its coming from his lips (or through his nostrils).
instead, i neglect making straight eye contact and go on my way, pretending i did not just see
the guy i see
everywhere.
Friday, April 17, 2009
the independent film festival
the first weekend of april, was the independent film festival. excited that i would finally be able to attend some interesting films, i persuaded daylily to buy some tickets with me. we decided to see a documentary called "in a dream" and a feature film called "reversion." we anticipated the day with excitement, until the actual day arrived.
daylily ended up not feeling well at all and that translated into her in a bad mood making me in a bad mood. the day was not going well. rules about the film festival were that ticketholders needed to arrive fifteen minutes prior to the showing time in order to retain their seats.
daylily had booked a wedding cake testing forty minutes before the showing time of our first film. frantically tapping my feet and throwing nervous looks in her direction did nothing to speed up the process. finally thirty minutes later we ran out of the place, my stomach rolling over itself and daylily placidly pulling out and driving on our way.
parking came relatively quickly. she spotted a space, swerved into it (neglecting to see if she was cutting someone off) and we ran hell-bent to the theater. long lines greeted us, and a helper directed us to the alleyway to our specific theater. easily in, we ended up in a puny theater that was nearly full. luckily we found a pair of seats and staked our claim.
to my left was an elderly man who made mysterious noises during the entire time and to my right was daylily. the movie was not really worth it. many people got up and left mid-way through, and daylily used the time to make up for loss of sleep.
the movie ended at about noon, and we decided to eat some lunch. the next movie didn't start until three twenty. mid-way through our soup of the day, it occurred to us that we had parked in a two hour zone. and it was past two hours. cornered by the need to finish our lunch, we had to wait to move the car.
biting our nails as we finally left the restaurant and ran to the car, we frantically searched for some sort of ticket tucked anywhere. again, we were lucky. by this time, we were getting nervy with each other and decided to go to the park, lay down a blanket, and sleep. we did so for an hour. by then, we were at loss for how to spend the rest of the afternoon. we were slowly getting tired of each others company.
we then preceded to go to starbucks for an hour, where we witnessed a person getting pulled over and given a ticket, and then we moved the car again to a four hour space. where we sat for the rest of the time.
a good twenty minutes early, we decided to go to the theater and stand in line. it ended up that everyone else got there thirty minutes early. there were so few seats left, it was ridiculous (it was a big theater too). and again we lucked out in finding a pair of seats in a corner niche.
as the film began, i discovered the lady to my left had a breathing problem (loud popping noises as she breathed out). and fifteen minutes before it ended, the lady in front of us stood up and stayed that way (she had knee problems) hovering for what seemed like eternity.
i was relieved and happy to see this documentary because it turned out to be a very good watch. again daylily made up for lack of sleep. her loss, for she missed some good parts.
afterwards, we both decided that we weren't ever going to repeat this experience. and if it turned out we did want to see a film, we would only see one and we would make sure it was a good one.
daylily ended up not feeling well at all and that translated into her in a bad mood making me in a bad mood. the day was not going well. rules about the film festival were that ticketholders needed to arrive fifteen minutes prior to the showing time in order to retain their seats.
daylily had booked a wedding cake testing forty minutes before the showing time of our first film. frantically tapping my feet and throwing nervous looks in her direction did nothing to speed up the process. finally thirty minutes later we ran out of the place, my stomach rolling over itself and daylily placidly pulling out and driving on our way.
parking came relatively quickly. she spotted a space, swerved into it (neglecting to see if she was cutting someone off) and we ran hell-bent to the theater. long lines greeted us, and a helper directed us to the alleyway to our specific theater. easily in, we ended up in a puny theater that was nearly full. luckily we found a pair of seats and staked our claim.
to my left was an elderly man who made mysterious noises during the entire time and to my right was daylily. the movie was not really worth it. many people got up and left mid-way through, and daylily used the time to make up for loss of sleep.
the movie ended at about noon, and we decided to eat some lunch. the next movie didn't start until three twenty. mid-way through our soup of the day, it occurred to us that we had parked in a two hour zone. and it was past two hours. cornered by the need to finish our lunch, we had to wait to move the car.
biting our nails as we finally left the restaurant and ran to the car, we frantically searched for some sort of ticket tucked anywhere. again, we were lucky. by this time, we were getting nervy with each other and decided to go to the park, lay down a blanket, and sleep. we did so for an hour. by then, we were at loss for how to spend the rest of the afternoon. we were slowly getting tired of each others company.
we then preceded to go to starbucks for an hour, where we witnessed a person getting pulled over and given a ticket, and then we moved the car again to a four hour space. where we sat for the rest of the time.
a good twenty minutes early, we decided to go to the theater and stand in line. it ended up that everyone else got there thirty minutes early. there were so few seats left, it was ridiculous (it was a big theater too). and again we lucked out in finding a pair of seats in a corner niche.
as the film began, i discovered the lady to my left had a breathing problem (loud popping noises as she breathed out). and fifteen minutes before it ended, the lady in front of us stood up and stayed that way (she had knee problems) hovering for what seemed like eternity.
i was relieved and happy to see this documentary because it turned out to be a very good watch. again daylily made up for lack of sleep. her loss, for she missed some good parts.
afterwards, we both decided that we weren't ever going to repeat this experience. and if it turned out we did want to see a film, we would only see one and we would make sure it was a good one.
the laundry note
yesterday, i needed to do laundry. i walked into the laundry room and spotted an open washer but an occupied dryer. yet again a lazy, irresponsible, and forgetful person left their clothes deserted.
i have developed many pet peeves this year while living in the dorms. two of which have to do with the laundry room. people who neglect to scrape off their lint, and those who neglect to collect their cleaned clothes. it has become the "done" thing to just carefully move the offending clothes to a clean counter or to the top of the washer/dryer in order to continue with one's own clean clothing routine. so after an hour of my clothes washing, and someone else's clothes still languishing in the dryer, i moved their clothes on top of the dryer and moved mine in.
an hour later (i set a timer so i don't commit this irritating act), i came in to collect my clothes punctually. i was assaulted with a note written on a large piece of paper. the note stated:
DO NOT TOUCH MY THINGS! IT IS NOT POLITE TO MOVE OTHER PEOPLES CLOTHES! THANKS A LOT!
i was utterly dumbfounded. and i had to use much effort to quash the impulse to write upon a post it note (THEN BE RESPONSIBLE AND MOVE YOUR CRAP ON TIME) and stick it on the obnoxious note. i really, really, really wanted to though. the audacity of people! astonishing!
i have developed many pet peeves this year while living in the dorms. two of which have to do with the laundry room. people who neglect to scrape off their lint, and those who neglect to collect their cleaned clothes. it has become the "done" thing to just carefully move the offending clothes to a clean counter or to the top of the washer/dryer in order to continue with one's own clean clothing routine. so after an hour of my clothes washing, and someone else's clothes still languishing in the dryer, i moved their clothes on top of the dryer and moved mine in.
an hour later (i set a timer so i don't commit this irritating act), i came in to collect my clothes punctually. i was assaulted with a note written on a large piece of paper. the note stated:
DO NOT TOUCH MY THINGS! IT IS NOT POLITE TO MOVE OTHER PEOPLES CLOTHES! THANKS A LOT!
i was utterly dumbfounded. and i had to use much effort to quash the impulse to write upon a post it note (THEN BE RESPONSIBLE AND MOVE YOUR CRAP ON TIME) and stick it on the obnoxious note. i really, really, really wanted to though. the audacity of people! astonishing!
the shit spasm
he who will remain unnamed recently had, what i have coined, a shit spasm. he usually never utters such crude curse words, but upon this occasion, we heard the rare words spewing brokenly from his spitting mouth.
here was the scenario. me and sister c were fighting over who was to wash dishes and who was to rinse (again), when mother k demanded that he intervene and make a decision. instead of deciding who was to do what, he, frustrated at this inconvenience to his golf watching tv, burst out in shit song.
you know i'm so tired of all this sh-sh-shit! all the time you guys start this frickin sh-sh-shit.
i try to hide a smirk at his stuttering barrage of insult.
get that sh-sh-shit eating grin off your face!
the moment he left the room we all burst out in laughter.
here was the scenario. me and sister c were fighting over who was to wash dishes and who was to rinse (again), when mother k demanded that he intervene and make a decision. instead of deciding who was to do what, he, frustrated at this inconvenience to his golf watching tv, burst out in shit song.
you know i'm so tired of all this sh-sh-shit! all the time you guys start this frickin sh-sh-shit.
i try to hide a smirk at his stuttering barrage of insult.
get that sh-sh-shit eating grin off your face!
the moment he left the room we all burst out in laughter.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
frisky business
last night's dinner conversation went a little like this:
pops: saw some elk today.
me: oh? where?
pops: sunny valley. and they were a little frisky.
me: oh? frisky eh? (me snickering)
sister c: oh june jaynes you perv! don't assume that! they were probably just running around! dad?
(silence)
pops: saw some elk today.
me: oh? where?
pops: sunny valley. and they were a little frisky.
me: oh? frisky eh? (me snickering)
sister c: oh june jaynes you perv! don't assume that! they were probably just running around! dad?
(silence)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
update on mr pompom
so everyday in chemistry class i can't help but observe the chemistry shouter. or what i am calling him now: mr pompom.
one day he was getting ready to stake his front seat when he stood up and took off his jacket. this action revealed his outfit. yikes. he was wearing the baggiest of brown corduroy pants paired with a tight (like a baby tee for girls), white, too short shirt that had blue rims around the short sleeves. it was a look that definitely went down in my book.
and then a couple days ago he was in front of his seat, standing, and he took off his pull over sweatshirt. and you know how sometimes when a guy takes off his sweatshirt he sometimes accidentally pulls off the undershirt too? so it leaves his naked torso shown to the whole world?
so poor mr pompom had his scrawny and pale naked torso writhing around as he furiously tried to pull his undershirt down and his sweater off. but his hairy head was hindering his progress. so for the next minute the entire lecture hall was treated to his free torso show.
until he finally righted himself and immediately plopped down in his seat.
ahh...my daily entertainment.
one day he was getting ready to stake his front seat when he stood up and took off his jacket. this action revealed his outfit. yikes. he was wearing the baggiest of brown corduroy pants paired with a tight (like a baby tee for girls), white, too short shirt that had blue rims around the short sleeves. it was a look that definitely went down in my book.
and then a couple days ago he was in front of his seat, standing, and he took off his pull over sweatshirt. and you know how sometimes when a guy takes off his sweatshirt he sometimes accidentally pulls off the undershirt too? so it leaves his naked torso shown to the whole world?
so poor mr pompom had his scrawny and pale naked torso writhing around as he furiously tried to pull his undershirt down and his sweater off. but his hairy head was hindering his progress. so for the next minute the entire lecture hall was treated to his free torso show.
until he finally righted himself and immediately plopped down in his seat.
ahh...my daily entertainment.
Monday, February 23, 2009
scratch-it aholics
miss rabbit introduced scratch-its to me a week ago. and boy, did i take to it.
first we had decided to go grocery shopping at albertsons and get a movie from the redbox. afterwards, miss rabbit had the grand idea to get some scratch-its. we waited at the counter, and as we waited an old black man hobbled up behind me and used the lottery scanner to check his tickets.
the first one beeped. $1! it shouted.
yeah. he grunted.
the second one beeped. $15! it shouted.
yeah. he grunted.
awesome. i added.
holla. he replied.
i had to grin. this old black man with a rakish beret just said holla. it was priceless.
andy beardard, our favorite lottery man helped us get our tickets. we had gone back and forth getting tickets for a half an hour. i only spent $7.50 mother! the first one i got was an egyptian one. nothing happened. the second two were small one dollar ones. again, nothing. meanwhile miss rabbit was raking in the cash. dollar by dollar.
we had also attracted an audience. one young boy had followed us to our bench and plopped right down. eating his reeses pieces from the candy dispenser he asked,
whatcha doin?
gambling, i replied.
oh. he said.
unfortunately for the fifteen minutes following, i think we corrupted his young and impressionable mind. i have a nasty feeling he's going to grow up to be addicted to scratch-its. shoot. i failed to do my civic duty.
finally, after both of us were having a losing streak, we decided to go to seven eleven instead. maybe we'd have better luck.
we walked down from our dorm with baggy sweatpants and our hoods up. we fit right in.
we opened the door and entered and headed straight for the scratch it case. my eyes were drawn toward a one dollar ticket that was called "wild cherry." both of us had previously decided that we were only going to invest one more dollar in this business.
i chose the wild cherry, and so did miss rabbit. outside we sat down on the curb and searched for a dime to scratch with. instead i found a rock.
she scratched.
i scratched.
and unveiled three thirty dollar signs! i shouted in glee! i had just won thirty dollars! i was ecstatic. miss rabbit was bitter. and jealous. i laughed.
and ignored the guys laughing and pointing at us from their running car.
and that was the start of the addiction. just kidding.
first we had decided to go grocery shopping at albertsons and get a movie from the redbox. afterwards, miss rabbit had the grand idea to get some scratch-its. we waited at the counter, and as we waited an old black man hobbled up behind me and used the lottery scanner to check his tickets.
the first one beeped. $1! it shouted.
yeah. he grunted.
the second one beeped. $15! it shouted.
yeah. he grunted.
awesome. i added.
holla. he replied.
i had to grin. this old black man with a rakish beret just said holla. it was priceless.
andy beardard, our favorite lottery man helped us get our tickets. we had gone back and forth getting tickets for a half an hour. i only spent $7.50 mother! the first one i got was an egyptian one. nothing happened. the second two were small one dollar ones. again, nothing. meanwhile miss rabbit was raking in the cash. dollar by dollar.
we had also attracted an audience. one young boy had followed us to our bench and plopped right down. eating his reeses pieces from the candy dispenser he asked,
whatcha doin?
gambling, i replied.
oh. he said.
unfortunately for the fifteen minutes following, i think we corrupted his young and impressionable mind. i have a nasty feeling he's going to grow up to be addicted to scratch-its. shoot. i failed to do my civic duty.
finally, after both of us were having a losing streak, we decided to go to seven eleven instead. maybe we'd have better luck.
we walked down from our dorm with baggy sweatpants and our hoods up. we fit right in.
we opened the door and entered and headed straight for the scratch it case. my eyes were drawn toward a one dollar ticket that was called "wild cherry." both of us had previously decided that we were only going to invest one more dollar in this business.
i chose the wild cherry, and so did miss rabbit. outside we sat down on the curb and searched for a dime to scratch with. instead i found a rock.
she scratched.
i scratched.
and unveiled three thirty dollar signs! i shouted in glee! i had just won thirty dollars! i was ecstatic. miss rabbit was bitter. and jealous. i laughed.
and ignored the guys laughing and pointing at us from their running car.
and that was the start of the addiction. just kidding.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
expect the unexpected
today, i woke up and got ready to have an adventure.
the previous night i had made mental plans to wake up early, wash my face, put on some sweats, and travel down to the fitness center to work out. for the first time.
i have been pondering visiting the fitness center for some time now, and i decided i needed to just get ready and do it. i had pinpointed the location of the center on a map of campus that i had, but i had never been there before.
after i got my little work out bag organized (water, keys, id card, phone, ipod) i stopped and remembered the philosophy that my "explorer of the world" book extolled. expect the unexpected. so i repeated the mantra in my head, and began my trek downhill and across the boulevard.
first it took me twenty minutes alone walking around trying to find the dang place. i weaved back and forth, and around each building getting close enough to read each sign with my short-sighted eyes. not it. not it. not it. until finally i double backed and went to the very first building.
fitness center
it proclaimed
beneath the stadium
i was bewildered. the fitness center is beneath the stadium? i shrugged and winded my way to the stadium, through the gates, and over the track.
i walked to the entrance, and was met with a big grey and unfriendly concrete door.
i threw open the door, and bravely walked in. i immediately thought. why the hell did i even want to expect the unexpected?
so, apparently it was man morning. there was no treadmills, bicycles, or tepid exercise machines. just a lot (A LOT) of jocky men working out. there was no second level designated for girls. just a fitness center full of men. i was confused, shocked, and very mentally disturbed.
there was no one at the desk to approve of my id, and for some reason i kept walking into the place. activity stopped, men stared, and some grinned. and no one helped me. i was a total damsel in distress. floundering in a sea of weights and dumbbells.
and i didn't stop there. i actually walked all the way to the end of the complex (which wasn't very long). on the way i impeded the five men doing quick jog stepping exercises. i nearly collided with two as i hurried past. at the time, i believe my instincts were kicking in. escape! escape! i had spotted an exit at the end and was practically running to it. i stopped short when my eyes finally distinguished the writing upon it.
emergency exit only. alarm will sound if opened.
disheartened, i whipped around, and walking quickly back through the mass of sweaty and masculine bodies. being careful to avoid the jog steppers. i zeroed in on the way i had come in and speed walking back through it.
i actually ran all the way back to the boulevard in my hurry to get the heck out out of the place. the shock didn't wear off until hours later. i still cringe even now.
i have not formed an opinion on the pros and cons of "expect the unexpected," but i do know that i will never set foot in the fitness center again. instead, i have plans to find a sedate and deserted hill to claim as my own natural treadmill.
the previous night i had made mental plans to wake up early, wash my face, put on some sweats, and travel down to the fitness center to work out. for the first time.
i have been pondering visiting the fitness center for some time now, and i decided i needed to just get ready and do it. i had pinpointed the location of the center on a map of campus that i had, but i had never been there before.
after i got my little work out bag organized (water, keys, id card, phone, ipod) i stopped and remembered the philosophy that my "explorer of the world" book extolled. expect the unexpected. so i repeated the mantra in my head, and began my trek downhill and across the boulevard.
first it took me twenty minutes alone walking around trying to find the dang place. i weaved back and forth, and around each building getting close enough to read each sign with my short-sighted eyes. not it. not it. not it. until finally i double backed and went to the very first building.
fitness center
it proclaimed
beneath the stadium
i was bewildered. the fitness center is beneath the stadium? i shrugged and winded my way to the stadium, through the gates, and over the track.
i walked to the entrance, and was met with a big grey and unfriendly concrete door.
i threw open the door, and bravely walked in. i immediately thought. why the hell did i even want to expect the unexpected?
so, apparently it was man morning. there was no treadmills, bicycles, or tepid exercise machines. just a lot (A LOT) of jocky men working out. there was no second level designated for girls. just a fitness center full of men. i was confused, shocked, and very mentally disturbed.
there was no one at the desk to approve of my id, and for some reason i kept walking into the place. activity stopped, men stared, and some grinned. and no one helped me. i was a total damsel in distress. floundering in a sea of weights and dumbbells.
and i didn't stop there. i actually walked all the way to the end of the complex (which wasn't very long). on the way i impeded the five men doing quick jog stepping exercises. i nearly collided with two as i hurried past. at the time, i believe my instincts were kicking in. escape! escape! i had spotted an exit at the end and was practically running to it. i stopped short when my eyes finally distinguished the writing upon it.
emergency exit only. alarm will sound if opened.
disheartened, i whipped around, and walking quickly back through the mass of sweaty and masculine bodies. being careful to avoid the jog steppers. i zeroed in on the way i had come in and speed walking back through it.
i actually ran all the way back to the boulevard in my hurry to get the heck out out of the place. the shock didn't wear off until hours later. i still cringe even now.
i have not formed an opinion on the pros and cons of "expect the unexpected," but i do know that i will never set foot in the fitness center again. instead, i have plans to find a sedate and deserted hill to claim as my own natural treadmill.
Monday, February 9, 2009
the heinous movie experience
i was sitting on my bed drinking my french press coffee when a thought just struck my mind. i never blogged about my heinous movie experience. so i dropped everything and am doing just that.
so roughly two weeks ago me and miss rabbit used our free movie tickets to go see gran torino. the movie was good. the experience was not.
first of all we went to the varsity theater, a "really old and kept that way" type of theater. after getting our tickets the man gave us directions to the theater room.
go back outside
he said
and walk down the alley until you meet the stairs and then turn left into the theater.
we were startled! walk outside and down a dark alley to the theater? scream! so we were brave and walked outside and down the alley and as we were chatting, opened up the door. scream! for real! as we started opening the door a tall and odd looking man was coming out. he had surprised us so badly.
well, ladies. scary movie. scary movie!
he said with a clown like grin.
we were officially scared. but we moved on and entered into the actual theater. it was dark. small. cramped. and empty. and located off an alleyway. where anyone could walk in. we got bad vibes.
we sat down anyway and waited for the movie to begin.
just as it started. we heard the door open and footsteps resounded. we clasped hands and waited. the tall and odd man came in with another man. but this man was old and scrubby looking. sort of like a hobo. we were alone. with them. they stepped up and sat behind us. i wished at least that they could have sat in front of us!
ten minutes later the door opened again. fortunately this time it was two women. five minutes later, two guys. the guys were from school and were basketball players. both were very tall and dressed like wangsters. we breathed more easily.
the movie went on. the quality was bad, it wasn't loud enough, and the walls were so thin that we could hear the movie nearby.
in the middle, the hobo man had to go to the bathroom so he got up to leave. he started walking to the end of the row but walked into a wall. he cursed loudly, nearly fell upon miss rabbit, and hobbled back across the row and down the stairs.
and lastly there were the two women. who laughed a lot. and not the good laughing, but the bad laughing. the shrill, annoying, and brain piercing kind.
me and miss rabbit kept sneaking outraged glances at each other during the entire length of the movie.
after we go out, we ranted. and decided that that was the last time we were going to attend the varsity movie theater.
so roughly two weeks ago me and miss rabbit used our free movie tickets to go see gran torino. the movie was good. the experience was not.
first of all we went to the varsity theater, a "really old and kept that way" type of theater. after getting our tickets the man gave us directions to the theater room.
go back outside
he said
and walk down the alley until you meet the stairs and then turn left into the theater.
we were startled! walk outside and down a dark alley to the theater? scream! so we were brave and walked outside and down the alley and as we were chatting, opened up the door. scream! for real! as we started opening the door a tall and odd looking man was coming out. he had surprised us so badly.
well, ladies. scary movie. scary movie!
he said with a clown like grin.
we were officially scared. but we moved on and entered into the actual theater. it was dark. small. cramped. and empty. and located off an alleyway. where anyone could walk in. we got bad vibes.
we sat down anyway and waited for the movie to begin.
just as it started. we heard the door open and footsteps resounded. we clasped hands and waited. the tall and odd man came in with another man. but this man was old and scrubby looking. sort of like a hobo. we were alone. with them. they stepped up and sat behind us. i wished at least that they could have sat in front of us!
ten minutes later the door opened again. fortunately this time it was two women. five minutes later, two guys. the guys were from school and were basketball players. both were very tall and dressed like wangsters. we breathed more easily.
the movie went on. the quality was bad, it wasn't loud enough, and the walls were so thin that we could hear the movie nearby.
in the middle, the hobo man had to go to the bathroom so he got up to leave. he started walking to the end of the row but walked into a wall. he cursed loudly, nearly fell upon miss rabbit, and hobbled back across the row and down the stairs.
and lastly there were the two women. who laughed a lot. and not the good laughing, but the bad laughing. the shrill, annoying, and brain piercing kind.
me and miss rabbit kept sneaking outraged glances at each other during the entire length of the movie.
after we go out, we ranted. and decided that that was the last time we were going to attend the varsity movie theater.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
war with the girl next door
remember silent policewoman from the name brigade? well let me update.
first of all there was that whole episode during finals week.
it was about eleven twenty at night and me and miss rabbit couldn't sleep so we just started talking as we lay in our beds. ten minutes of talking and some giggling (we were not that loud, just our normal indoor voices) there came soft knocks at our door.
we were startled. miss rabbit peeked through the peep hole and gasped
its the girl next door!
and jumped back on her bed. the knocks stopped once we quieted down. for moments we just lay there outraged by the audacity of this girl. of course you may threaten to go tell someone to shut up but you don't carry it out. it is just not done. obviously silent policewoman was unaware of this unspoken rule.
and we were honestly not being loud! and eleven twenty is not late in dorm time. that whole incident just rubbed us the wrong way.
so the silent policewoman lives in a single room next to my side and on her other side is an empty room. and guess what. the side she has her huge stereo speakers against is my side, not the side that shares a wall with the empty room!
so everyday, unfailingly, she blares her hard core metal music. the bass resounds out the window, out her door, and through the wall. it ricochets off of our walls and pounds into our brains. sometimes, we retaliate (i know, i know). occasionally i blast some rock music. but that is only to muffle the sound of her music. which i shouldn't even be hearing.
and once when i was putting away my clothes, opening and closing my drawers repeatedly (maybe a slight bit forcefully, only a slight!) she started banging her drawers shut too! what a biotch!
me and miss rabbit absolutely hate her. she is not considerate or respectful. we have recently decided to take the higher road and be the bigger person. the next time she blasts her music at an inconvenient time for us, we will tattle.
first of all there was that whole episode during finals week.
it was about eleven twenty at night and me and miss rabbit couldn't sleep so we just started talking as we lay in our beds. ten minutes of talking and some giggling (we were not that loud, just our normal indoor voices) there came soft knocks at our door.
we were startled. miss rabbit peeked through the peep hole and gasped
its the girl next door!
and jumped back on her bed. the knocks stopped once we quieted down. for moments we just lay there outraged by the audacity of this girl. of course you may threaten to go tell someone to shut up but you don't carry it out. it is just not done. obviously silent policewoman was unaware of this unspoken rule.
and we were honestly not being loud! and eleven twenty is not late in dorm time. that whole incident just rubbed us the wrong way.
so the silent policewoman lives in a single room next to my side and on her other side is an empty room. and guess what. the side she has her huge stereo speakers against is my side, not the side that shares a wall with the empty room!
so everyday, unfailingly, she blares her hard core metal music. the bass resounds out the window, out her door, and through the wall. it ricochets off of our walls and pounds into our brains. sometimes, we retaliate (i know, i know). occasionally i blast some rock music. but that is only to muffle the sound of her music. which i shouldn't even be hearing.
and once when i was putting away my clothes, opening and closing my drawers repeatedly (maybe a slight bit forcefully, only a slight!) she started banging her drawers shut too! what a biotch!
me and miss rabbit absolutely hate her. she is not considerate or respectful. we have recently decided to take the higher road and be the bigger person. the next time she blasts her music at an inconvenient time for us, we will tattle.
my special ability that is secretly hated by miss rabbit
so, it has recently come to my attention that i have a special ability.
an ability to terribly fluster miss rabbit in situations she ordinarily wouldn't pay attention or get embarrassed by.
let me say something about miss rabbit. she is usually calm, doesn't get embarrassed easily, and can easily compose herself. but for some reason, when she does something funny i bring it to her attention and her feathers get ruffled.
it is quite fun to observe. it has begun to be a game. she, of course, hates it with a passion.
an example was the other night when we were at the counter in the cafeteria weighing and paying for our dinner. she set her dish of pasta on the scale and on the way scattered some on the counter.
i burst out with a
oh miss rabbit, your naked noodles got loose!
the cashier grinned. miss rabbit gave me a mad look and mumbled something unintelligible. she hurried off as the cashier scooped up the noodles and threw them away. i grinned and sung out a thank you as i payed and moved on.
an ability to terribly fluster miss rabbit in situations she ordinarily wouldn't pay attention or get embarrassed by.
let me say something about miss rabbit. she is usually calm, doesn't get embarrassed easily, and can easily compose herself. but for some reason, when she does something funny i bring it to her attention and her feathers get ruffled.
it is quite fun to observe. it has begun to be a game. she, of course, hates it with a passion.
an example was the other night when we were at the counter in the cafeteria weighing and paying for our dinner. she set her dish of pasta on the scale and on the way scattered some on the counter.
i burst out with a
oh miss rabbit, your naked noodles got loose!
the cashier grinned. miss rabbit gave me a mad look and mumbled something unintelligible. she hurried off as the cashier scooped up the noodles and threw them away. i grinned and sung out a thank you as i payed and moved on.
big heads small heads
recently, i have come to notice (why, i have no idea) the size of people's heads in proportion to their bodies.
it all started with the male stairwell and his body shape. you know, the big head and shorter body.
well, the other day i was shocked and stunned to find someone else (a man) with an even bigger head in proportion to his body! i'm not being mean, i am just so very interested and a slight bit repulsed by this small/big phenomenon. this man's head was just... well, it made my mind go speechless for a long period.
and earlier that day, i walked through a door into a building and encountered a girl with a head too small for her body! i just had to stare! it was inordinately small with sharp features, and it's image imprinted itself on my mind. even now i am getting mental pictures.
it all started with the male stairwell and his body shape. you know, the big head and shorter body.
well, the other day i was shocked and stunned to find someone else (a man) with an even bigger head in proportion to his body! i'm not being mean, i am just so very interested and a slight bit repulsed by this small/big phenomenon. this man's head was just... well, it made my mind go speechless for a long period.
and earlier that day, i walked through a door into a building and encountered a girl with a head too small for her body! i just had to stare! it was inordinately small with sharp features, and it's image imprinted itself on my mind. even now i am getting mental pictures.
my first rock concert. and my last.
well, me and miss rabbit had one of our first "big girl" adventures february 5. we attended the hinder rock concert in the nearby town. just the two of us- no boys. i told her i thought it would be really fun if it could just be a girls thing and she agreed. i sort of wish she hadn't.
this is how the night panned out.
five o clock i finally escaped chemistry lab and i began readying myself. after forty five minutes of straightening and hair spraying hair, applying fake eyelashes, drawing on gobs of black liner and mascara, and squeezing myself into skinny jeans and a tight black v-neck tee, i was ready. and after forty five minutes of curling her hair, applying pretty pink eyeshadow, and putting herself into jeans and a white top, miss rabbit was ready to go too. i was "rocker chick" and she was "girlie girl."
we arrived at the location a half an hour before the doors opened at seven. and we were met with such long and wide lines that we parked ourselves and stayed in the car. sat on the heated seats. listened to music. and played word games to overcome the boredom. and while we stewed, our apprehension of the coming night grew. more particularly my nervousness was affecting my bladder. or as miss rabbit so affectionately called it: my "tiny tank."
we watched children, teenagers, older people, middle aged people, and people of our own generation pass by on their way to the doors. finally when we could no longer postpone reality, we breathed and strengthened our backbone, and sauntered over to the doors. again to be faced with a just as long line.
fortunately the line went fast, and after being patted down and corralled, we beelined for the bathroom. and as to be expected at any concert the line was long. and slow. forty minutes later i found out the bathroom was only equipped with three toilets. lovely.
standing in line we encountered cutters (thank god the lady in front of us said something to make them leave, i was scared. they looked really scary), obnoxious drunk women shouting about how bad they had to piss, and other women who would walk up to the bathrooms and then notice the long line and be outraged. finally, we relieved ourselves and made way into the concert room. where the opening band was beginning. thirty minutes or so later, hinder came on stage.
let me say a few things first:
1. the concert was for all ages. it should not have been. i would say fifteen and over would have been appropriate. there was a lot of f words being thrown around (by the lead singer and in the songs), a lot of drunks, a permanent marijuana stench, and little kids weren't even able to see (if they were in the very middle of things) because they were too short.
2. there should have been a reserved area and a cheap ticket area. some sort of border to separate the decent folk from the hoi polloi (no offense).
3. and the bouncers/security men should have been a little more stringent in what they deemed okay, and not okay.
the concert itself was pretty good. since the band was touring to promote their second and newest cd, we were unfamiliar with most of the songs. we only had the first (and we deemed it the best) cd.
actual encounters were not many. just one incident where one tall homeboy and his friend stood really close to us. and looked at us. later the tall one kept squeezing his way in and out of the center of the crowd over and over for reasons unknown. and offended miss rabbit with an accidentally grope to her breasts.
along with enjoying (that is not the most precise word...) the concert, i enjoyed observing the behavior of the people and the people themselves. i made a mental list of things i wanted to rant and blog about so here goes:
1. the drunk people. they were in the center of the mass, near the stage (we were close to the front but off to the side, and not totally locked in) and did i mention they were totally trashed? of course during all the extreme rocky songs they tried their best to start a mosh pit. they crouched and ran in little circles knocking into each other and other unwilling participants. very unwilling participants. people had to hold hands so they wouldn't fall down. many actually did fall down, and one overweight and overwrought girl with glasses was getting really upset. at these times me and miss rabbit took a couple steps back and took in this behavior at a safe distance.
2. the head banging tweens. off to my side were about four tween boys with the cliched mop of dirty and long hair. and of course they were using it. by doing head banging motions or just outright whipping their heads around in tight circles flinging my face with sweat, dandruff, and most likely lice.
3. the man/woman. a person standing in front of both of us who seemed to be enjoying the show. the only excitement they showed was a slight bobbing of the head and at one point a succession of whoo's. but for the life of me, i could not figure out if it was a man or a woman. miss rabbit told me later she was a woman and she smelled really bad. i wouldn't doubt it.
4. the anorexic poseurs. these two, really made me mad. they looked like sisters but i couldn't be sure. both were small, rail thin, had sad facial expressions, shorn heads, spiked dog collars (which could be dangerous. hello!), and the entire time had their arms in the air. i would continually see their pale stick arms and hands strewn with those black and red jelly bracelets tied in knots around their wrists and fingers (so middle school) waving in the air. they were doing the rock hand symbol and one kept putting both her hands together in a heart shape whenever the singer would look in her direction. i couldn't stand it!
5. me and miss rabbit were sure the lead singer was gay. but we later found out he was married. anyways he reminded us of johnny depp from pirates of the caribbean. he had longish black stringy hair and wore a long swallow tailed black coat decorated with studs and leather. and all the microphone stands had bras hanging from them. that was funny.
6. the overall look of people there was just unattractive. they were scary, intoxicated, trashy, obnoxious, and creepy. even during the last song (get stoned) someone lit up and the smell of pot permeated the air.
finally we left at ten. and were quite happy to get back to our safe and comfortable room. all in all, it was quite an experience but we agreed that it just wasn't our scene.
this is how the night panned out.
five o clock i finally escaped chemistry lab and i began readying myself. after forty five minutes of straightening and hair spraying hair, applying fake eyelashes, drawing on gobs of black liner and mascara, and squeezing myself into skinny jeans and a tight black v-neck tee, i was ready. and after forty five minutes of curling her hair, applying pretty pink eyeshadow, and putting herself into jeans and a white top, miss rabbit was ready to go too. i was "rocker chick" and she was "girlie girl."
we arrived at the location a half an hour before the doors opened at seven. and we were met with such long and wide lines that we parked ourselves and stayed in the car. sat on the heated seats. listened to music. and played word games to overcome the boredom. and while we stewed, our apprehension of the coming night grew. more particularly my nervousness was affecting my bladder. or as miss rabbit so affectionately called it: my "tiny tank."
we watched children, teenagers, older people, middle aged people, and people of our own generation pass by on their way to the doors. finally when we could no longer postpone reality, we breathed and strengthened our backbone, and sauntered over to the doors. again to be faced with a just as long line.
fortunately the line went fast, and after being patted down and corralled, we beelined for the bathroom. and as to be expected at any concert the line was long. and slow. forty minutes later i found out the bathroom was only equipped with three toilets. lovely.
standing in line we encountered cutters (thank god the lady in front of us said something to make them leave, i was scared. they looked really scary), obnoxious drunk women shouting about how bad they had to piss, and other women who would walk up to the bathrooms and then notice the long line and be outraged. finally, we relieved ourselves and made way into the concert room. where the opening band was beginning. thirty minutes or so later, hinder came on stage.
let me say a few things first:
1. the concert was for all ages. it should not have been. i would say fifteen and over would have been appropriate. there was a lot of f words being thrown around (by the lead singer and in the songs), a lot of drunks, a permanent marijuana stench, and little kids weren't even able to see (if they were in the very middle of things) because they were too short.
2. there should have been a reserved area and a cheap ticket area. some sort of border to separate the decent folk from the hoi polloi (no offense).
3. and the bouncers/security men should have been a little more stringent in what they deemed okay, and not okay.
the concert itself was pretty good. since the band was touring to promote their second and newest cd, we were unfamiliar with most of the songs. we only had the first (and we deemed it the best) cd.
actual encounters were not many. just one incident where one tall homeboy and his friend stood really close to us. and looked at us. later the tall one kept squeezing his way in and out of the center of the crowd over and over for reasons unknown. and offended miss rabbit with an accidentally grope to her breasts.
along with enjoying (that is not the most precise word...) the concert, i enjoyed observing the behavior of the people and the people themselves. i made a mental list of things i wanted to rant and blog about so here goes:
1. the drunk people. they were in the center of the mass, near the stage (we were close to the front but off to the side, and not totally locked in) and did i mention they were totally trashed? of course during all the extreme rocky songs they tried their best to start a mosh pit. they crouched and ran in little circles knocking into each other and other unwilling participants. very unwilling participants. people had to hold hands so they wouldn't fall down. many actually did fall down, and one overweight and overwrought girl with glasses was getting really upset. at these times me and miss rabbit took a couple steps back and took in this behavior at a safe distance.
2. the head banging tweens. off to my side were about four tween boys with the cliched mop of dirty and long hair. and of course they were using it. by doing head banging motions or just outright whipping their heads around in tight circles flinging my face with sweat, dandruff, and most likely lice.
3. the man/woman. a person standing in front of both of us who seemed to be enjoying the show. the only excitement they showed was a slight bobbing of the head and at one point a succession of whoo's. but for the life of me, i could not figure out if it was a man or a woman. miss rabbit told me later she was a woman and she smelled really bad. i wouldn't doubt it.
4. the anorexic poseurs. these two, really made me mad. they looked like sisters but i couldn't be sure. both were small, rail thin, had sad facial expressions, shorn heads, spiked dog collars (which could be dangerous. hello!), and the entire time had their arms in the air. i would continually see their pale stick arms and hands strewn with those black and red jelly bracelets tied in knots around their wrists and fingers (so middle school) waving in the air. they were doing the rock hand symbol and one kept putting both her hands together in a heart shape whenever the singer would look in her direction. i couldn't stand it!
5. me and miss rabbit were sure the lead singer was gay. but we later found out he was married. anyways he reminded us of johnny depp from pirates of the caribbean. he had longish black stringy hair and wore a long swallow tailed black coat decorated with studs and leather. and all the microphone stands had bras hanging from them. that was funny.
6. the overall look of people there was just unattractive. they were scary, intoxicated, trashy, obnoxious, and creepy. even during the last song (get stoned) someone lit up and the smell of pot permeated the air.
finally we left at ten. and were quite happy to get back to our safe and comfortable room. all in all, it was quite an experience but we agreed that it just wasn't our scene.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
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the pom pom
chemistry 202. 11 o clock in the morning. for fifty minutes. a total yawn. except the one thing that makes me perky at such a time is the chemistry “shouter.” by “shouter” i mean the person who usually sits next to you and shouts out the answers whenever the professor asks a rhetorical question. usually they are way annoying. but not this one.
he always sits in the front row of the big lecture hall. he wears glasses that remind me of dumbledore’s “half-moon glasses” and has grown a full and voluminous beard. he’s not that old, more likely in his young twenties. and day after day he never fails to wear a baseball cap, beanie, or pom pom stocking cap. and by pom pom stocking cap i mean the type of stocking cap that is white and red knit, says i ♥ oregon, and on the very tip is attached a gargantuan red yarn pom pom. so he continues to claim the front center seat each class, and he also continues to shout. examples of this behavior is such:
doug would ask
does that make sense?
cs would reply with a laconic
for sure.
doug would ask
homework will be due monday. agreed?
cs would agree with a
yeah. mmmhmmm.
and each time he finished his shout, he would look behind his shoulder and peer at the rest of the class over his spectacles to see if anyone was laughing. i could tell he hoped so, because he himself would have a big silly grin on his face.
he always sits in the front row of the big lecture hall. he wears glasses that remind me of dumbledore’s “half-moon glasses” and has grown a full and voluminous beard. he’s not that old, more likely in his young twenties. and day after day he never fails to wear a baseball cap, beanie, or pom pom stocking cap. and by pom pom stocking cap i mean the type of stocking cap that is white and red knit, says i ♥ oregon, and on the very tip is attached a gargantuan red yarn pom pom. so he continues to claim the front center seat each class, and he also continues to shout. examples of this behavior is such:
doug would ask
does that make sense?
cs would reply with a laconic
for sure.
doug would ask
homework will be due monday. agreed?
cs would agree with a
yeah. mmmhmmm.
and each time he finished his shout, he would look behind his shoulder and peer at the rest of the class over his spectacles to see if anyone was laughing. i could tell he hoped so, because he himself would have a big silly grin on his face.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
the statue of libertay
me and miss rabbit were walking back from the beanery the other day when we spotted one of those people dressed up in the statue of liberty costume who's mission is to remind you to finish your taxes. he was a little mexican man and he was dancing the jig and smiling one big smile. to make him happy we stopped by and asked him how it was going. he grinned and offered a bright blue foam crown for us to take. miss rabbit politely declined, but i politely accepted it. here are the pictures resulting.
additions and changes to the name brigade
additions:
the stairwells= a couple comprising of a girl named after an herb who sings all the time and a guy who has a head way too big for his body; we had the misfortune to overhear them one time- the girl said to the guy "you. in the stairwell. now."; made us shudder in repulsion; girl frequently flashes dirty looks in our direction (for reasons unknown)
chanel= a wonderfully flamboyant gay black guy who wears ugg boots, skinny jeans, aviator sunglasses, and a delicious chanel bag swung about his shoulder
elf= a small childlike girl who wears a long trenchcoat and walks in a slightly hunchbacked and loping manner
hair= a girl both of us went to school with; her distinct voice can be heard a mile away
the wolf= a girl miss rabbit knows; always wears a wolf shirt and has a man voice; me and miss rabbit go wolf hunting all the time
changes:
hawaiian discount ----> is now mexican pervert= he is one sick creep, we recently found out
the stairwells= a couple comprising of a girl named after an herb who sings all the time and a guy who has a head way too big for his body; we had the misfortune to overhear them one time- the girl said to the guy "you. in the stairwell. now."; made us shudder in repulsion; girl frequently flashes dirty looks in our direction (for reasons unknown)
chanel= a wonderfully flamboyant gay black guy who wears ugg boots, skinny jeans, aviator sunglasses, and a delicious chanel bag swung about his shoulder
elf= a small childlike girl who wears a long trenchcoat and walks in a slightly hunchbacked and loping manner
hair= a girl both of us went to school with; her distinct voice can be heard a mile away
the wolf= a girl miss rabbit knows; always wears a wolf shirt and has a man voice; me and miss rabbit go wolf hunting all the time
changes:
hawaiian discount ----> is now mexican pervert= he is one sick creep, we recently found out
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
the name brigade
june jaynes and miss rabbit have found it quite necessary to create and record a list of all the ongoing characters in the drama called college life. Here is the list as of now.
retro= miss rabbit’s spanish amor; also works in the cafeteria; wears the most appalling raccoon hat- striped tail in the back and everything
jimmy= j. whyte, miss rabbit’s spanish class acquaintance and itunes aficionado
hawaiian discount= the teddy bear of a cafeteria clerk who continues to give us outrageous discounts on our snacks
pretty eyes= adorable cafeteria clerk; walks with a stylish book bag, smokes, carries a cane (for reasons unknown), and he is, did june forget to mention, adorable?
whip cream man= barista boy from the beanery, sister c’s ultimate poetic crush
dreds= another of miss rabbit’s amors- she is quite the casanovia; he is another beanery boy but he has dreds and makes miss rabbit oh so flustered
batey-boy= another beanery boy who holds an uncanny resemblance to jason bateman (the actor), june jaynes amour
silent policewoman= the girl next door; in a single room, plays obnoxiously loud hard metal music, and is a total biotch
pectoral toucher P.T. =the creepy gay/not gay man who approached june jaynes at the black and white party; perhaps a second encounter in the library during finals week-miss rabbit noticed a longish haired man staring at them from over a cubic booth
jeeper the creeper aka jeepers= the pacer of all pacers, long greasy hair, sleazy stare, continues to stalk us; june jaynes had encounter at nighttime with jeepers- he let her in the door and he was swinging a duct tape bat around, she was officially scared
double A aka attitude adjustment=the mexican starbucks barista boy; is never nice to us
hippie man= used to be miss rabbits crush, that phase passed; june jaynes found out he is in her history class; smokes and has weird gauged piercings
the predator= while june jaynes and miss rabbit were watching tv in the jock lounge he creeped in the doorway and asked how it was going, they replied it was going good, he took that as interested encouragement and is now checking them out whenever they have the unfortunate luck to run into him
the jock lounge aka predator’s lair= the dining area by the cafeteria that features a tv and usually an entire pack of jocks or the predator
the beastlies= the beastly girls next door
the moor= a black guy that both miss rabbit and june jaynes attended high school with, handsome and nice
east coast aka E.C. = professor of anthropology that june jaynes had last term and miss rabbit has this term; both have crushes on him; handsome with glasses but slight paunch
scruff mcgruff= long haired tall beautiful man; stylin’ yet sloppy fashion attire; june jaynes amour
adrien brody= june jaynes crush from anthropology class and history class; classic and beautiful profile-that’s the only angle june ever sees of him; she recently decided she loves him and continues to sit behind him in anthropology class
puke= name originated from a time when june and miss rabbit used to say “i puke prettier than that outfit” whenever they saw her and her atrocious attire; used to room with ugly
ugly= a most unattractive girl who used to live in the hall; disappeared for three weeks with her boyfriend- cause of much drama in the hall
pw= people watching; an activity miss rabbit and june jaynes do not do near often enough, for it is great fun
retro= miss rabbit’s spanish amor; also works in the cafeteria; wears the most appalling raccoon hat- striped tail in the back and everything
jimmy= j. whyte, miss rabbit’s spanish class acquaintance and itunes aficionado
hawaiian discount= the teddy bear of a cafeteria clerk who continues to give us outrageous discounts on our snacks
pretty eyes= adorable cafeteria clerk; walks with a stylish book bag, smokes, carries a cane (for reasons unknown), and he is, did june forget to mention, adorable?
whip cream man= barista boy from the beanery, sister c’s ultimate poetic crush
dreds= another of miss rabbit’s amors- she is quite the casanovia; he is another beanery boy but he has dreds and makes miss rabbit oh so flustered
batey-boy= another beanery boy who holds an uncanny resemblance to jason bateman (the actor), june jaynes amour
silent policewoman= the girl next door; in a single room, plays obnoxiously loud hard metal music, and is a total biotch
pectoral toucher P.T. =the creepy gay/not gay man who approached june jaynes at the black and white party; perhaps a second encounter in the library during finals week-miss rabbit noticed a longish haired man staring at them from over a cubic booth
jeeper the creeper aka jeepers= the pacer of all pacers, long greasy hair, sleazy stare, continues to stalk us; june jaynes had encounter at nighttime with jeepers- he let her in the door and he was swinging a duct tape bat around, she was officially scared
double A aka attitude adjustment=the mexican starbucks barista boy; is never nice to us
hippie man= used to be miss rabbits crush, that phase passed; june jaynes found out he is in her history class; smokes and has weird gauged piercings
the predator= while june jaynes and miss rabbit were watching tv in the jock lounge he creeped in the doorway and asked how it was going, they replied it was going good, he took that as interested encouragement and is now checking them out whenever they have the unfortunate luck to run into him
the jock lounge aka predator’s lair= the dining area by the cafeteria that features a tv and usually an entire pack of jocks or the predator
the beastlies= the beastly girls next door
the moor= a black guy that both miss rabbit and june jaynes attended high school with, handsome and nice
east coast aka E.C. = professor of anthropology that june jaynes had last term and miss rabbit has this term; both have crushes on him; handsome with glasses but slight paunch
scruff mcgruff= long haired tall beautiful man; stylin’ yet sloppy fashion attire; june jaynes amour
adrien brody= june jaynes crush from anthropology class and history class; classic and beautiful profile-that’s the only angle june ever sees of him; she recently decided she loves him and continues to sit behind him in anthropology class
puke= name originated from a time when june and miss rabbit used to say “i puke prettier than that outfit” whenever they saw her and her atrocious attire; used to room with ugly
ugly= a most unattractive girl who used to live in the hall; disappeared for three weeks with her boyfriend- cause of much drama in the hall
pw= people watching; an activity miss rabbit and june jaynes do not do near often enough, for it is great fun
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