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Oh, I get it
Jennifer is the chick CV and I met up in Helen at Oktoberfest. If I hadn't had so many pitchers of crappy beer + stein to the head I might have realized that sooner.
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Yeah...this kind of explains a lot of things...
This is gonna be long, so brace yourself
Before I launch into my Thanksgiving week recap, a few things:
1) Must Gwen Stefani ruin all the songs from my favorite childhood musicals? I mean, really. This shit is rotten bananas. Just keep the bitch away from Oh What a Beautiful Morning and The Jet Song.
2) The 19-year-old who works at the Rec center and is in 2 of my classes just gets awesomer and awesomer. Today, for his persuasive speech, he explained the importance of barrier methods when having sex. The big finish came when he pulled out an anatomically-correct prop and demonstrated how to correctly put on a condom. Then he passed around a goodie bag of multi-colored condoms. Love him. LOVE HIM! Where were boys like that when I was 19?
3) Who is Jennifer and how did her number get in my phone book? It's a 678 number. Anyone know who this person is? Anyone? Anyone?
4) I'm sorry to all my lj fans for the barrage of posts the other day. I switched over to some new Blogger Beta thing and I think it messed with the RSS feed's head.
5) Happy Birthday, William Blake! Your poetry is still good over 200 years later.
Okay, onward to the casetheplace Best Week Ever!...
I flew out of Atlanta the afternoon of Friday, November 17, headed for Portland, Oregon via Phoenix. But before I even made it to Hartsfield-Jackson I had two rapid-succession gossip phone calls. Hey, juicy gossip never goes on vacation.
Usually, when I fly non-stop from ATL to the West Coast I take a Dramamine, bunch my sweater under my head and call it a night. But I hate the groggy feeling when I have to connect, so I chose to fly drug-free. Between my two flights I nearly finished In the Company of the Courtesan by Sarah Dunant. I read The Birth of Venus a few years back, and thought it was above average, but Courtesan had everything I could want in a novel: Renaissance-era Venice, a resilient courtesan, and a dwarf.
My plane landed in PDX around 10PM Pacific. My Aunt J was there to pick me up, and we then headed straight to Astoria for the weekend. (More on Astoria when Aunt J sends me the pics...hint hint). There was an incident in Kelso, Washington with a Burger King, a confusing intersection, and a police officer around 11PM that is best left to the imagination. But hey, no citations were issued! We finally made it to our motel about 1AM, which felt like 4AM to me.
I slept the sleep of the jet-lagged and just.
Sunday afternoon (November 19) Aunt J dropped me off at the Longview-Kelso Amtrak station. I rode the train to Seattle, sitting across from a thugged-out white boy who fell asleep. I just read.
Uncle Rob picked me up from the Seattle Amtrak station in his MINIVAN. Yes, I knew in my head Uncle Rob and Aunt Becky had purchased a minivan last fall when they found out they were having twins, but still, knowing and actually seeing are two very different things. And while they do have a minivan, they are STILL, nine months after the babies birth, in their one-bedroom apartment.
"So..." I asked. "Are you planning to stay in your apartment until the twins are 18?"
The real estate market in Seattle is vicious...we're talking Manhattan-stereotype vicious, so I definitely understand why they are loath to leave their current place in its awesome neighborhood. But still, those of us down South (in a mostly more realistic real estate market) think they're crazy.
I was in Seattle until Wednesday, when we all loaded up in the minivan and headed for Salem, Oregon for Thanksgiving with Aunt J and her extended Oregon family. I didn't do a whole lot in Seattle, since I've seen most of the major sites on past visits (Space Needle? Check. Salmon running in the locks? Check. UW? Check. Ferry boat ride as seen on Grey's Anatomy (minus Patrick Dempsey)? Check.) But I did go do the Seattle Underground Tour, which was pretty awesome. I'd like to do the Seattle Underworld Tour sometime when I'm visiting in the summer. I did the last tour of the day, which finished at 5:30PM, and of course at the higher latitude (as compared with Georgia) it was pitch black at that time, as well as POURING DOWN RAIN (as opposed to the nice light mist I am used to when in Seattle in the winter). I'd assured Becky I could ride the bus back to their place just fine, and I did, with a stop at Ross first where I found a Columbia Sportswear 3-in-1 rain jacket/fleece (I'd been eyeing it at the REI back home) for only $69.99! Normally that thing's $200. I congratulated myself for thinking smart and waiting to buy it.
On the very crowded, very steamy bus that took me up Capitol Hill I sat next to this really cute guy. I kept trying to catch his eye and he kept looking at his phone. Then when he got up from his seat I noticed he was wearing a polka dot hat, so clearly it was not meant to be.
The traffic Wednesday on I-5 heading south out of Seattle was off the chain. A 4-hour drive took 7 hours. Augie (the boy twin) screamed for a good couple of hours, so we three adults started to sing. We started off with "Old McDonald Had a Farm" and soon progressed to "YMCA" ("Omigod, we're going to make him gay!" I joked. To which Uncle Rob rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, cause we all know that's how that happens.") Apparently Augie finds gay anthems soothing because he fell asleep in the middle of "I Will Survive."
Thanksgiving day was 33 people at Aunt J's sister-in-laws house eating at 3 long tables arranged in a U in the garage.
The next afternoon, I made my first Black Friday shopping trip, during which I purchased a Go! phone for Aunt J (Merry Christmas!), a pair of jeans and a hat for my cousin Molly (Merry Christmas!), a whole bunch of clothes at Old Navy for me (Merry Christmas!), and an iPod shuffle for me (MERRY MERRY CHRISTMAS!) I saved almost $8 on the iPod simply because there is no sales tax in Oregon.
I was looking at the display model in Circuit City and flagged down a salesgirl to get it out of the case for me.
"Doesn't it come with a USB dock?" I asked, having researched (ok, lusted after) the newly designed shuffle on apple.com for the last umpteen months.
"Oh no, the Shuffle doesn't come with a dock."
When she returned and handed me the boxed shuffle, I looked on the back to see what it had to say for itself: "Includes iPod shuffle, earphones, dock."
This is why I generally don't pay any attention to the expertise of salesclerks.
I flew out of Portland Saturday morning at 11:15AM, and I didn't want to get on the plane to go back to the A. It had nothing to do with what I was leaving, but everything to do with what I was going back to: stress, stress, stress.
I felt sick the whole travel time back.
Melissa met me at the airport, and after waiting a bajillion years for my checked bags, we rode the train to her car and went to Waffle House. The jukebox played "Folsom Prison Blues" and "Blue Christmas" as I ate my All-Star Special with bacon and grits, and I knew, for better or worse, I was home.
At least for now.
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This Week in Review will feature:
Goonies, Salmon, Seattle, Trailer Parks, Black Friday, Twin Babies, iPod Shuffle, GoPhone, Dial-Up, Amtrak, Phoenix Layover, French Dudes on the MARTA Train, and much, much more!
But first, a word from our sponsor, SLEEP.
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3 things guaranteed to make me smile
1) Going out to brunch on Tuesday with Ori (and have I ever mentioned that brunch is my favorite meal ever? Oh, I have? Move along, then, move along) and having our server recognize me by my fur collar. Yes, that's right, my accessories are so distinctive I have waitstaff asking to pet me, and then saying, "Wait...didn't you wear this in here last winter?"
2) Anytime I go out and I'm introduced to someone, and my handle is part of the intro. "Omigod, you're casetheplace? I totally love your comments."
3) Reruns of Roseanne on Oxygen.
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I believe in good fortune and destiny
Remember a few posts ago when I asked the blog gods to make the semester end and to put lots of money in my checking account? While they didn't answer the part about making the semester end faster (only time can do that), I did get a rather definitive response on the money front:
In the mail today were two envelopes, one with a $5 Shell gas gift card, one with a financial aid letter telling me I have been awarded the FUCKING HOPE SCHOLARSHIP for this school year. For those of you who are not familiar with Hope, this means that my tuition and fees are paid for. And I don't have to pay it back. Ever. Cause it's a goddamn scholarship, yo. This also means that the private loan I took out on top of my regular Staffords is no longer needed; the funds have been returned to the lender and I won't have to worry about accruing crazy interest while I finish up school. Hott damn! (*does a little happy squirm and giggle*)
Special thanks to Patrick for encouraging me to apply for Hope even though I thought I didn't qualify. You rule!
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Final Project
The photos at left are a little teaser for the final project I'm working on for one of my classes this semester. My friend Ghini shot me and Bonnie's Robert (not to be confused with the 8 million other Robert's out there) in an abandoned office at the Pullman Trainyard here in the ATL. Rob was the Boss From Hell and I was the Frazzled Underling. There was much method acting by Rob and lots of me trying not to giggle at his bossiness.
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"You came back from Oktoberfest with a 12-pack of Miller Lite?"
or
2 Posts in 1 NightHow many Scorpios can one Taurimini know? I mean, geez Louise, I've spent half my night drinking Miller Lite and typing birthday wishes to all my friends, acquaintances, and others. My favorite was to my friend Patrick. His birthday is today (11/08) and I waited until it was clear the Dems had taken both houses before typng the following:
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Democrats took the Senate
And the U.S. House too!HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SCORPIOS NEAR AND FAR!!###
If you can take the heat...
Man, Bravo's Top Chef has totally sucked me in this season. I mean, a loudmouthed Filipina dyke and a whole bunch of hott hott chef dudes?!? HOT DAMN! My 2 favorite hotties: Sam (duh) and Ilan. Which leads me to my new revelation: I totally should date a chef. I mean, the good ones are all crazy workaholics like me, which means I wouldn't feel pressured by overneediness or anything. And they wouldn't take me out to eat anywhere crappy.
I'm just sayin'.
Please make this semester end and a whole bunch of money appear in my checking account. Thanks!
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Well, since I can't seem to get an indignant rise out of anyone, I guess I'll stop trying to push y'alls buttons for a while.
It's raining. It's Election Day. I voted, and as usual, the little old lady poll workers thought me and my rainboots were the cutest thing ever. One even commented on how my last name was like "that adorable little Muppet from that movie...you know, Yoda." I think she officially became the coolest little old lady ever for that remark.
In just over a week I fly to the Left Coast! My aunt is taking me to Astoria, Oregon for the weekend before Thanksgiving. I've been to Astoria once before, when I lived in Portland. Astoria is famous for being the town where they shot Kindergarten Cop AND The Goonies. I think I need to practice my Truffle Shuffle.
Then I think I'm going to ride the train or bus up to Seattle for a few days and visit my uncle and his family. They are encouraging this, as I think they would like any help they can get with the twins. I'll then ride down with them on Wednesday to Salem, Oregon for Thanksgiving time with my aunt and her (step) children. Friday I'll probably get roped into a trip to the mall. Saturday morning I fly back home to the ATL.
So...excited...
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While I'm on a politically incorrect roll...
I would just like to note that it amuses me to no end to know that my other two group members for this project due tomorrow are both Indians. One "red dot" and the other "feather."
(Oh man, I am so going to liberal hell for that one...good thing I'm not a liberal and I don't believe in hell.)
Although, to be truthful, I'm not sure if "red dot" is really Indian or Pakistani. I haven't thought to ask until now, and I don't think she'd appreciate a late-night phone call that would go something like, "Hey, I'm writing a blog entry in which I refer to you as a 'red dot Indian', which got me thinking: are you really Indian, or are you perhaps Pakistani?"
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Top 8
In which our heroine tells you about her top 8 myspace friends based solely on their respective user pic, using only one descriptive phrase per friend.
I am friends with a black chick, a black dude, a chick with pink hair, a girl next to a glacier, an emo-ed out guy with sunglasses, a pair of Chuck Taylors, "Dead Disco", and a Robert Palmer girl.
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