You left me too soon. Good thing I snapped this pic of you on one of our last trips together. You were very pretty.
Who knew that somebody likely overtightened your timing belt tensioner, causing a bolt to shear off, the belt to rub through the cover, and 1-4 valves of the engine to be damaged? Not me.
At some point I will get involved with another Subaru. I am hoping that relationship will last longer, and that she will not entirely drain my wallet (yeah right!). But you will hold a special place in my heart because you were my first.
Wow, NPR just tied up a few of my recent posts in one neat little bow. "Youth Radio's Pendarvis Harshaw says that among his friends, the transition from condoms to no-condoms signifies a lasting commitment — more so even than walking down the aisle."
Is this downgrading of commitment a good thing? Maybe it's more realistic than a promise to be with someone forever. How many people are happy with the same person forever? This is a serious question, by the way. How many people do you know who lasted over 10 years and are still happy?
Or maybe it's just sad. I think there is value in making a promise to someone. Maybe you just need to be really picky about who that someone is, and keep communication, love and respect always on the front burner.
Or maybe it's just different for everyone. To each his own. But I don't think I'll be falling into this camp.
I decided I needed a little friends/beer/water time this weekend. Because my friends who up for it were either injured or stressed out, we decided to make it as easy as possible. BBQ at my place with a kiddie pool and some champagne. The champagne of beers, that is! Bajabucky looked at hers and said, "Oh, the champagne of beers. Now I get what you were talking about." Um, yes. How do you live several decades as a tried and true beer drinker without knowing this? It's a mystery.
Here are the stats:
kiddie pool - awesome
Bajabucky's teriyaki - awesome
my grill maintenance - poor
High Life and Red Vines - better separate
The best part was when Bajabucky got upset by something Tiger said, so she chucked her beer out the back door and across the lawn.
In other news, I'm starting to get serious about this learning bass guitar situation. I think I'll start with this song...
First I'll need to duct tape 1 more string onto mine.
Ok, really. This is the song I can play. Ignore the parts that sound like guitar. I don't do those. I do the parts that sound like bass.
Leave it to Jack White to write a sweet song that those of us who suck at an instrument can still play. Right Meg? Oh, snap! I realize Jack White is playing all of it on his guitar, but I'm a purist and that is where I draw the line. Alternatively, it could be because I don't own a guitar, whammy pedal, or the appropriate skills. You decide. I choose purist. The website where I got the bass tab calls this song "great for beginning bassists who wanna feel talented." Yep, that's me.
I went out after work on Thursday for Happy Hour. The plan was to have a beer than go home and work some more. It's 6 am. I just got home. So much for that plan.
How did I end up out for 12 hours on a Thursday? Good question. I'm not entirely sure. I think it had something to do with beer. One beer and good conversation leads to dinner at a friend's house, leads to watching fire dancing and hula hooping downtown (this is cool by the way). Leads to meet my friend Ruhroh out at dance night. Leads to dance until 2 at the bar (even if at moments you're only one of two people dancing). Eventually, as all things do, leads to "oh, we're being kicked out of the bar?" Afterparty at the Domes!
What are the Domes, you say? Why, they're the on-campus geodesic dome housing of course! What were you thinking of? Anyway, you can have a 4 person dance party there until 5 in the morning and no one cares. On a Thursday. And if you happen to wake the occupant of the dome next to you, he'll just wander in without a shirt on and laugh at you. And join the dance party for a few minutes before departing back to his bed. Why would he laugh you say? Well there's the dancing of course - which probably wouldn't win many awards for grace. Then there's the cross-dressing. Yes, that's right, spontaneous Thursday night cross-dressing. What were you thinking? I had a purple strapless prom dress and purple floppy gardening hat on (which technically doesn't count as cross-dressing, just bad taste), the friend who lived in the Dome had on a purple floor length silky nightgown which displayed his chest hair quite nicely, his neighbor donned a bubblegum pink slinky strapless skin-tight tube dress and pink tutu, and Ruhroh "covered" himself in a white g-string, red and black wig, and sunglasses. So you see why I didn't come home.
We danced up a storm. Who the hell needed other people? Not us! We also ate some awesome veggie sausage sandwiches which were pretty hot and nearly burned my tastebuds clean off, so I had to follow up with a peanut butter and butter sandwich. Mmmm. Oh, yes and we danced, shimmied, and shook on the wooden plank swing inside. Yes, a swing inside the dome. What were you thinking?
I biked home at sunrise. This is the only way I see this time of day - at the back end - never the beginning. I wonder if the people I passed on campus thought I was an early riser or saw through my bleary-eyed facade to the night owl I really am? We will never know.
Did you know that 1 in 5 women has HPV (the virus that causes genital warts and some types of cancer)? Which would lead a person to believe that the number in men is similar. Also, the CDC estimates that 1 in 4 teenage girls has at least one of the most common STDs (HPV, chlamydia, herpes simplex virus, trichomoniasis). Uh, what? Are you kidding me? What is the percentage for adults who (possibly - not me, of course) have more partners racked up? Jesus Christo! I'll sum it up for all you math-deficient out there. Statistically speaking, if you've had genital to genital contact with 5 people, you've probably got something. Of course all it takes is one - statistical variation and all that. Oh, this is the best part - HPV usually has no symptoms in men, so they can spread it all over the place and never know. And you can't test for HPV (it's a complex of 30 viruses) and the herpes test is nearly worthless.
Either I never knew this info, or I knew it when younger (and unattached) but forgot it. You know, young people tend to think they're invincible and whatnot. Why isn't the government screaming this at us? Sex education in this country is absolutely abysmal. I grew up having the fear of pregnancy mentally beat into me (thanks Mom! it's worked so far!), but this? This? It's effing shocking.
Use condoms 100% of the time. Always. For all skin contact (you know what I mean).
If you're under 26 get your HPV vaccination. Sadly, some of us are too old.
And just for good measure, pray for something that's cleared with antibiotics.
Because, really, can you imagine screeching all the excitement and romance to a halt in order to have the "I have an STD" conversation? Ick.
If we happen to be hanging out in the real world amongst other people, as we are sometimes wont to do, please do not bring up the ol' blog. I am attempting to have only a select few readers of this know who I am (namely those people I would be this open with already, and granted, that's a lot of people - I have a small case of what they call boundary issues). I realize this anonymity thing is a slippery slope, and that if my cover's blown it's my own fault, but I like to live on the edge.
Halterwhip and I went to High Sierra Music Festival this weekend. We got there Friday right before the Mike Gordon show (which I was super excited about) after arriving later than expected (due to sleeping late in response to a raucous night before and detour thanks to the CA wildfires). As we drove up I saw my future - dusty boogs and boob sweat. We had to shlep (read: carry) all our gear to the campsite. This included one duffel, two backpacks, one Action Packer, one 30 lb food cooler, one 20 lb beer cooler, one giant bag of food, one camp stove and 2 camp chairs. I forced Halterwhip to leave the watermelon behind. You would have thought we would be there for weeks.
For those of you who aren't acquainted with Halterwhip, here's what you need to know. She rolls through life with a good attitude and has a good time, and she's generally not what I would call a 'list-maker.' For every hour for, oh, about the first 24 hours of the trip she would discover something else that she forgot. Here are some highlights:
the fact that she doesn't like jam bands
But you've got to hand it to her. She's up for anything. And she'll have a smile on her face while doing it. Even if she hates you. Especially if she hates you. Here's what hanging out with her is like:
Me (while setting up camp): I wonder if I'm going to read before I go to sleep tonight or just pass out? Halterwhip: Do you believe our destiny is predetermined?
She'll keep you on your toes, that one.
Turns out she also has quite the knack for picking out shows with hot musicians just by reading the band bio. It's amazing. This little personality trait made me very happy.
So, High Sierra. Yes it's a hippie fest. Here's proof.
Tent specifically for breastfeeding.
Makeshift pool (yes that water is opaque).
Themes of the festival:
acai berry (It was everywhere. Seriously, who's getting rich off this marketing scheme? Cause I'd like to buy some stock. Do you think they'd take car wash tokens?)
bands with organs
hula hoops (this one baffles me)
Let's talk about the musical highlights.
The Ryan Montbleau Band - Beautiful voice, beautiful lyrics, beautiful voila player. They'll make you dance and cry all at the same time, and I swear to everything holy that the drummer looks like Animal from the Muppets, but of course, since Halterwhip picked this band out, cute. We saw these guys twice. During the second show Halterwhip handed me a Red Vine during a super danceable section of song. I couldn't have been happier - not even with some Mr. Pibb, cause I probably would have just ended up covered in Pibb and sticky. Unfortunately these bastards are from Massachusetts so mostly tour on the East Coast. That really cramps my style, guys.
James Hunter and his band- This guy is from London with an accent that makes him nearly incomprehensible when he speaks, but in the tradition of all British musicians sings in an American accent. (Question: What's with this?) This guy has an amazing voice and the band is tight. They were like soul mixed with rockabilly. PS. The keyboardist was super hot due to his very sexual playing (thanks Halterwhip!). I've listened to their album since and think they're a better band in person - they expand the songs and you really get to see the guy on keys shine, if you know what I mean.
The Lee Boys - I'm not sure how to explain these guys. Gospel that will make you shake your ass? See them and you will dance. And if you can't get over the God thing then just pretend that they're saying 'sun' instead of 'son.' I'm pretty sure that's what this guy up front was doing as he kept motioning into the air.
So I must be honest and admit that we went to the Phix show (they're a Phish cover band). Phix is to Phish as masturbation is to sex. One requires closing your eyes and focus, while during the other you want to open up all your senses to everything. But I was impressed at times and it was fun, and they did a pretty good Funky Bitch. I'd see them for free again, even though it feels like my secret shame.
Oh, this reminds me. Some guy tried to hit on me at that show and did a pretty piss poor job of it. So here are some hints for all the guys out there:
Probably don't try to hit on someone on the fourth day of a camping festival. Especially if you're from another state.* Because the only thing I can possibly think you want out of this is just gross.
Don't get too f%^ed up to properly have a conversation with a girl.
You'll need to have more game than just standing close to me for the whole show.
If you need some lessons, I can get you in touch with this guy. On the plus side, he did tell me the name of a song I couldn't remember. So he turned out to be semi-useful.
And finally, after bitching all weekend that I needed a tent attic, I jury-rigged myself one for free. It also doubles as a nice hat storage locker. They could probably sell this system at REI for $45.
There isn't often a mood bleak enough that La Perla can't fix. Brewing up to be a shitty day?
Step 1. Put on the matching green lace bra and wide side thong. Step 2. Put on whatever the hell you want over it. Doesn't even matter. But for maximum effect, let the bra straps show. Step 3. Bike to school. (cause that's the kind of girl I am)
The effect is similar to Paolo Nutini's New Shoes. Which reminds me. Your own personal feel-good playlist can buoy you up on days that would otherwise reek of doldrum. I'll even share my own personal favorite list made this spring. This one makes me walk around thinking, "I. am. awesome!":
It's quickly becoming clear to me, after ending a relationship this spring that lasted the past several years, that the life of a single woman is filled with a lot more ups and downs than the life of a committed. (Question: Is this a general rule or just the case when you are in a relationship with someone who quite honestly ended up boring you into the arms of any and all reality shows you could get your glassy eyes on?).
Point is, there's a lot going on here, and I've been blessed with more amazing friends and family than one girl can keep in the loop. I know you care, and I want to tell you, but this is the 10th time I've had this conversation and I need to move on. Also, this should free up some time in the conversation to talk about you. Hence: blog.
I'll really try to keep this all relevant and interesting and save the scattered, schizo, shotgun thoughts to my own private nightstand hardcopy. It's probably better for all involved that way.