Being longwinded isn't my speciality, but...
I'll go over recent stuff first, just because there's not a ton, I suppose.
I'm preparing to go to SEP on Saturday. I'm super-nervous, because I'm going as a junior counselor with responsibility and crap, but it should be a lot of fun. Oh, nerves, nerves. I hope I get older kids, because then it'll be more likely that I'll find some cool like freshman and sophomore friends. ;) And I can always hope for a hot male JC to flirt with. Yay. I'll try to keep y'all updated, assuming they still have those slow, old-ass Macs at the U of O. We'll see.
On a bit of a movie-watching binge with matt, since there are so many movies I own and apparently NEED to see ('Fight Club", "Kill Bill"...). I made him watch "Blazing Saddles" in exchange for my cooperation, so I think it's fair. ;) Also, he made me steak, which was muy bueno. Like Kinder Buenos, only meatier. Yum.
Yesterday, we watched "American Beauty", which I could really go to see a few more times. Very intriguing. I can't really talk intelligently about movies without somebody to chat off of, so I'll just say that, yes, everyone is right. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED, A++. I'm totally the Angela of Hillsboro.
At 11:15 PM, I went out with Matt, Kyle, and Goose to see "Spider-Man 2". In an entirely different way, I would also HIGHLY recommend this movie. It was far superior to the first, I think, and, ignoring some cheesiness that goes with the territory of kitschy comic books, incredibly fun, funny, action-packed, and even a bit moving. It's the first movie in a very long time that didn't hold a moment that really bored me or took me out of the story. Except for the cake scene. That was just plain artsy.
See them both!
----
Okay, for Fourth of July, I stressed myself out trying to please two sides of my family that apparently didn't even want to be pleased. I'm tired of sharing holidays. gah. But it was okay. Laura was particularly catty to me for no reason ("Well, no shit."), but otherwise, it was pleasing enough. Burgers at Mom's, then fireworks at Dad's , then we smuggled some of the fireworks that Matt and I bought for Dad's to Mom and set some off there. It was more fun, I think, than Dad's, even though there were less fireworks and she seemed to be a bit grumpy. Maybe it was because I didn't have to listen to Laura. Who knows?
-----
OKAY! Canada. Land of Canadians. Land of disgrunted French-Canadians.
It had its dull and bad moments, but, as always, the good moments remain in my memory more. We started off with a 13 hour trip to Moose Jaw, Canada. It was a trip that took some running through international hubs, major stress, and obligatory Canadian chocolates. We went from Portland to Vancouver, BC, to Calgary, Alberta, to Regina, Saskatchewan, then drove to the spa in Moose Jaw. Somewhere along the way, I managed to save us from a fruitless 400+ person line, we lost our luggage, and I got food poisoning. So, if you're ever in the Calgary airport and you think a "chicken club wrap" sounds good... think again. It may be a foul combination of fatty pepper chicken and fatty, raw pepper bacon. MMM, TRICHINOSIS.
The Moose Jaw spa was the place of a family reunion with (and this is for my records, since you don't know them):
Aunts and Spouses:
- Susan/Jay
- Linda
- Sherry/Bryce
- Vicki/Blair
Cousins and Spouses
- Carrie
- Sumer/Kevin
- Jessie
I was, by far, the youngest person there, but I spent a good amount of time getting to know my older (age 23+) cousins, Carrie and Sumer, which was actually a lot of fun. We went to the Al capone tunnels at "Tunnels of Moose Jaw", which we expected to be quite interesting and historical. Instead, we found that it was an incredibly badly-acted interactive theatrical tour thing. Quite sad. Ooo, but the bootlegger guy, Gus, was hot.
Unless it's pre-wrapped, never trust Canadian food. It's gross. Interesting fact: they enjoy gravy with their fries, yet have ketchup potato chips.
We younger folks went to a standard carnival one day, too, which was actually a lot of fun, once I got over how much it cost (damn you, Canadian price translations and GST!). I learned an important thing that day: carnies are SMARMY MOFOS. I got hit on several times, and after a conversation about me being from out-of-town and 17, a smooth-talking, cigarette-smoking, 24+ African American bumper car operator named Sam pressed me for a date.
Also important to know is that you should never go on two gravity-defying rides in a row--- those ones that press you again the wall, you know? No. Also, never sit in a ride that requires sandpaper on the seats to keep you from hitting the walls of the seat. Also, get the free-ride wristabnd thing. In the end, it's worth it if you're with adventurous friends, and you won't waste your money on stuff like the Haunted House.
For example, our haunted house ride (and keep in ride that ths carnival was put on a West Coast Carnivals, an American carnival provider) was quite literally black tarp and an alarm-clock buzzer. I kid you not. Furthermore, halfway through the ride, we stopped. Figuring we were going to be severely frightened by the ride operator in a mask, as we had seen him run into the haunted house as we waited for our turn, we waited patiently. Instead, we were treated to him walking up, saying "You're stuck", and pushing the car until it started to go again. The most frightening thing in the haunted house, I think, was the massive sparks that shot out from the car as he pushed us. Then, as soon as he left, we stopped again, and he returned to push us through the rest of the dark, black-tarpy ride as we laughed hysterically.
Blah, blah, blah... back at the spa, I got an aromatherapy massage by, by coincidence, a guy -- a fact that freaked dad and Laura out far more than it even phased me. I don't think it would have been a big deal had they not known that full-body massages require you to strip down to panties. Oh well. It was a really nice massage, though I did ruin it by going to aforementioned carnival directly afterwards.
What else?... Oh, and there were some really nice, good-looking guys at the spa, and since I was in Canada, land of stalking guys you'll never see again, I spent some of my free time hunting them and chatting with 'em. Yay.
------
OKAY! Now that you've heard the history of my life in Canada, you can hear about Montana!
....
Okay, there wasn't much. I played A LOT of electronic Yahtzee. I ate a ton of food. I helped my mom and other various family from the OTHER side clean out Grandma Mona's house. Most importantly, I learned the hazards of 40+ smoking in a house.
Clogs your lungs with tar? Total bullshit. Second-hand smoke? Bunch of wussies. But a thick coating YELLOW to EVERYTHING YOU OWN?
Absolutely.
So, in an exercise of "What If?" with my mom, I said jokingly, "what if I took this sponge and just wiped down the way, Mom? What would happen?" The walls are a kind of Mediterranean antiquey yellow, which I am convinced is 90% paint color. So, I wipe my sponge down the wall once, and a little yellow comes off. Hm. I run my sponge down the wall in the same place again... AND IT'S WHITE. TOTALLY WHITE.
OH MY GOD! EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE IS COVERED IN YELLOW-ORANGE RESIDUE! EVERYTHING!
Don't smoke, kids. Seriously. It's just wrong.
The weirdest thing that happened, I think, was visiting Grandma Mona in the hospital. It's unnerving to see a funny, interesting, smart figure from your childhood reduced to a shaky-handed, child-minded old woman. However, she didn't seem that bad, mostly because of the drugs they gave her to stop her delusions or whatever. I just found myself repeating everything a few times -- actually kind of nice if you're short on conversational material.
The saddest thing, though, was visitng my Great Aunt Myrtle directly afterwards (in the same hospital). Here, I go from someone physically all-right but mentally out-of-it... to someone mentally clear but physically destroyed. Myrtle is now probably 95% blind, 75% deaf, and wheelchair bound. And she was SO. SAD. Apparently, her days consist of basically sitting there, effectively staring at a wall, thinking about all the things she can't do -- talk with people, read, listen to music, walk... And thinking about the fact that her husband is still able to stay at home.
Hospitals are miserable.
-----
So, when Montana was all said and done, Dad and I (because Laura had already gone ) headed home on a 17 hour trip. Basically, the same thing, only with 7 hours of downtime in airports. Wheee. We bought a lot of crazy chocolate, walked a lot.
Something interesting I noted was the difference between going through US border control and Canadian border control.
US Border Control: A scary-looking woman with a gun in holster hits you with a barrage of questions before taking your passport and disappearing into the little station with some guy, while another guy cradling a machine gun stares you down in your car. Your passports are returned a few minutes later with a hard stare, and you are told you can go.
Canadian Border Control: A smiling guy with a mustache asks you for your passport, gives it a glance, and hands it back. Asks you where you're going and if you're taking anything. If all is well, he wishes you a good trip and sends you along your way onto a road measured in kilometers.
Okay, as you may have figured out, I am getting tired of talking, especially in dumb little snippets like this. And I think I'm out of stories. So I will leave you with this question:
Why is it that they will take away any nail clippers in your carry-on at airport security, but you can still buy the similar nail clippers in the stores within the secure area of the terminal?
I'm preparing to go to SEP on Saturday. I'm super-nervous, because I'm going as a junior counselor with responsibility and crap, but it should be a lot of fun. Oh, nerves, nerves. I hope I get older kids, because then it'll be more likely that I'll find some cool like freshman and sophomore friends. ;) And I can always hope for a hot male JC to flirt with. Yay. I'll try to keep y'all updated, assuming they still have those slow, old-ass Macs at the U of O. We'll see.
On a bit of a movie-watching binge with matt, since there are so many movies I own and apparently NEED to see ('Fight Club", "Kill Bill"...). I made him watch "Blazing Saddles" in exchange for my cooperation, so I think it's fair. ;) Also, he made me steak, which was muy bueno. Like Kinder Buenos, only meatier. Yum.
Yesterday, we watched "American Beauty", which I could really go to see a few more times. Very intriguing. I can't really talk intelligently about movies without somebody to chat off of, so I'll just say that, yes, everyone is right. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED, A++. I'm totally the Angela of Hillsboro.
At 11:15 PM, I went out with Matt, Kyle, and Goose to see "Spider-Man 2". In an entirely different way, I would also HIGHLY recommend this movie. It was far superior to the first, I think, and, ignoring some cheesiness that goes with the territory of kitschy comic books, incredibly fun, funny, action-packed, and even a bit moving. It's the first movie in a very long time that didn't hold a moment that really bored me or took me out of the story. Except for the cake scene. That was just plain artsy.
See them both!
----
Okay, for Fourth of July, I stressed myself out trying to please two sides of my family that apparently didn't even want to be pleased. I'm tired of sharing holidays. gah. But it was okay. Laura was particularly catty to me for no reason ("Well, no shit."), but otherwise, it was pleasing enough. Burgers at Mom's, then fireworks at Dad's , then we smuggled some of the fireworks that Matt and I bought for Dad's to Mom and set some off there. It was more fun, I think, than Dad's, even though there were less fireworks and she seemed to be a bit grumpy. Maybe it was because I didn't have to listen to Laura. Who knows?
-----
OKAY! Canada. Land of Canadians. Land of disgrunted French-Canadians.
It had its dull and bad moments, but, as always, the good moments remain in my memory more. We started off with a 13 hour trip to Moose Jaw, Canada. It was a trip that took some running through international hubs, major stress, and obligatory Canadian chocolates. We went from Portland to Vancouver, BC, to Calgary, Alberta, to Regina, Saskatchewan, then drove to the spa in Moose Jaw. Somewhere along the way, I managed to save us from a fruitless 400+ person line, we lost our luggage, and I got food poisoning. So, if you're ever in the Calgary airport and you think a "chicken club wrap" sounds good... think again. It may be a foul combination of fatty pepper chicken and fatty, raw pepper bacon. MMM, TRICHINOSIS.
The Moose Jaw spa was the place of a family reunion with (and this is for my records, since you don't know them):
Aunts and Spouses:
- Susan/Jay
- Linda
- Sherry/Bryce
- Vicki/Blair
Cousins and Spouses
- Carrie
- Sumer/Kevin
- Jessie
I was, by far, the youngest person there, but I spent a good amount of time getting to know my older (age 23+) cousins, Carrie and Sumer, which was actually a lot of fun. We went to the Al capone tunnels at "Tunnels of Moose Jaw", which we expected to be quite interesting and historical. Instead, we found that it was an incredibly badly-acted interactive theatrical tour thing. Quite sad. Ooo, but the bootlegger guy, Gus, was hot.
Unless it's pre-wrapped, never trust Canadian food. It's gross. Interesting fact: they enjoy gravy with their fries, yet have ketchup potato chips.
We younger folks went to a standard carnival one day, too, which was actually a lot of fun, once I got over how much it cost (damn you, Canadian price translations and GST!). I learned an important thing that day: carnies are SMARMY MOFOS. I got hit on several times, and after a conversation about me being from out-of-town and 17, a smooth-talking, cigarette-smoking, 24+ African American bumper car operator named Sam pressed me for a date.
Also important to know is that you should never go on two gravity-defying rides in a row--- those ones that press you again the wall, you know? No. Also, never sit in a ride that requires sandpaper on the seats to keep you from hitting the walls of the seat. Also, get the free-ride wristabnd thing. In the end, it's worth it if you're with adventurous friends, and you won't waste your money on stuff like the Haunted House.
For example, our haunted house ride (and keep in ride that ths carnival was put on a West Coast Carnivals, an American carnival provider) was quite literally black tarp and an alarm-clock buzzer. I kid you not. Furthermore, halfway through the ride, we stopped. Figuring we were going to be severely frightened by the ride operator in a mask, as we had seen him run into the haunted house as we waited for our turn, we waited patiently. Instead, we were treated to him walking up, saying "You're stuck", and pushing the car until it started to go again. The most frightening thing in the haunted house, I think, was the massive sparks that shot out from the car as he pushed us. Then, as soon as he left, we stopped again, and he returned to push us through the rest of the dark, black-tarpy ride as we laughed hysterically.
Blah, blah, blah... back at the spa, I got an aromatherapy massage by, by coincidence, a guy -- a fact that freaked dad and Laura out far more than it even phased me. I don't think it would have been a big deal had they not known that full-body massages require you to strip down to panties. Oh well. It was a really nice massage, though I did ruin it by going to aforementioned carnival directly afterwards.
What else?... Oh, and there were some really nice, good-looking guys at the spa, and since I was in Canada, land of stalking guys you'll never see again, I spent some of my free time hunting them and chatting with 'em. Yay.
------
OKAY! Now that you've heard the history of my life in Canada, you can hear about Montana!
....
Okay, there wasn't much. I played A LOT of electronic Yahtzee. I ate a ton of food. I helped my mom and other various family from the OTHER side clean out Grandma Mona's house. Most importantly, I learned the hazards of 40+ smoking in a house.
Clogs your lungs with tar? Total bullshit. Second-hand smoke? Bunch of wussies. But a thick coating YELLOW to EVERYTHING YOU OWN?
Absolutely.
So, in an exercise of "What If?" with my mom, I said jokingly, "what if I took this sponge and just wiped down the way, Mom? What would happen?" The walls are a kind of Mediterranean antiquey yellow, which I am convinced is 90% paint color. So, I wipe my sponge down the wall once, and a little yellow comes off. Hm. I run my sponge down the wall in the same place again... AND IT'S WHITE. TOTALLY WHITE.
OH MY GOD! EVERYTHING IN THIS HOUSE IS COVERED IN YELLOW-ORANGE RESIDUE! EVERYTHING!
Don't smoke, kids. Seriously. It's just wrong.
The weirdest thing that happened, I think, was visiting Grandma Mona in the hospital. It's unnerving to see a funny, interesting, smart figure from your childhood reduced to a shaky-handed, child-minded old woman. However, she didn't seem that bad, mostly because of the drugs they gave her to stop her delusions or whatever. I just found myself repeating everything a few times -- actually kind of nice if you're short on conversational material.
The saddest thing, though, was visitng my Great Aunt Myrtle directly afterwards (in the same hospital). Here, I go from someone physically all-right but mentally out-of-it... to someone mentally clear but physically destroyed. Myrtle is now probably 95% blind, 75% deaf, and wheelchair bound. And she was SO. SAD. Apparently, her days consist of basically sitting there, effectively staring at a wall, thinking about all the things she can't do -- talk with people, read, listen to music, walk... And thinking about the fact that her husband is still able to stay at home.
Hospitals are miserable.
-----
So, when Montana was all said and done, Dad and I (because Laura had already gone ) headed home on a 17 hour trip. Basically, the same thing, only with 7 hours of downtime in airports. Wheee. We bought a lot of crazy chocolate, walked a lot.
Something interesting I noted was the difference between going through US border control and Canadian border control.
US Border Control: A scary-looking woman with a gun in holster hits you with a barrage of questions before taking your passport and disappearing into the little station with some guy, while another guy cradling a machine gun stares you down in your car. Your passports are returned a few minutes later with a hard stare, and you are told you can go.
Canadian Border Control: A smiling guy with a mustache asks you for your passport, gives it a glance, and hands it back. Asks you where you're going and if you're taking anything. If all is well, he wishes you a good trip and sends you along your way onto a road measured in kilometers.
Okay, as you may have figured out, I am getting tired of talking, especially in dumb little snippets like this. And I think I'm out of stories. So I will leave you with this question:
Why is it that they will take away any nail clippers in your carry-on at airport security, but you can still buy the similar nail clippers in the stores within the secure area of the terminal?