Monday, June 13, 2011

What the Fuzzy?

I told myself last night that I was going to take today to rest, write and read.  Then Dawne suggested a walk at the dog park followed by a double car wash.  I finally said no to the boat ride, finished the Vegas update, and at 7, I am starting to write this week’s update, just hoping that I finish at a decent hour.  I feel like I have been running full speed ahead for the last 8 weeks in a whirlwind of fun and excitement and I can only hope to share the news with you before I fall asleep in sheer exhaustion. 


I asked Lucas what I missed over the weekend, and he told me about the replacement keyboard player for Allium. I was informed that, “The new keyboard player is really good at music but she's kinda slutty.”

Becky met me Tuesday morning for breakfast.  The bus dropped her off at Microsoft, and then as she was running to meet me, she face planted in the middle of an auxiliary street.  She rolled over, and just lay there for a moment.  When a gentleman passing by asked if she needed anything, she replied, ““Yes. Do you think you could help me gather up the bits of my pride that are scattered around on the pavement? They must be here somewhere.”

Over coffee she explained to me that I had to stop telling people that they were a part of my circle of trust and therefore could do pretty much whatever they wanted and I’d understand.
Me: Why? It’s totally a circle of trust.
Becky: No. It’s a line of trust that goes directly to the Monday Email.

Tuesday evening, Laina invited us all over for dinner, where everyone else made delicious, yummy things while my “homemade” dishes all suspiciously came in plastic containers with labels stating what they were.  Still living off the high of Vegas, and adding in the joy that is my friends, we had a delightful evening.  
Upon seeing Lily, age 5, eat her cheesecake top down:
Me: Hey I eat cheesecake like that, Lily!  We are like bosom buddies
Jen: Only you have those and she doesn't.
Lily: Heeeyo!

Then, the evening ended with Lily asking, “Michael, why are you here when Shana’s not?

Those of you who know me, know that sometimes when I really want to know what’s going on, but I don’t necessarily want to pry, will ask “What’s your happiness level, from one to ten.”  This way, I can get a gauge on what’s going on, and it gives a person an opening to chat if they need to.  Much better then, “How you doin’ buddy? You okay? You wanna so-da?” During a similar conversation, I was trying to figure out how to get the level up from a 6 to a 7 or 8.

Me: Then tell me three things that bother you in life.
Chris: I really hate that “beg, steal or borrow” phrase.


E3 was this week and I was pleased to hear that some WizKids people had been thinking of me via text messages from Justin.  Towards the end of the conversation however I received the following message:

Justin: I am now over my 500 SMS messages.  You will now need to pay me .25 cents per text to stay your friend.  I will split it with you. 
And then later…
Justin: We can split it. 12.62 - I take paypal.

All right.  The Rejection:

I asked someone out in an epic fashion on Friday.  I had Lucas put together a song (in response to a conversation with the gentleman) and then I sent the song:

Song Name: Truckload of Tiffanies
Artist: Lucas Weisman
Album Name: Doesn’t this make you want to go out with one Tiffany?

Then followed up with saying, “Did you see the album name or do I actually have to say that I really like you and I think we should go out?”  And, I truly believe that this romantic comedy worthy ask out, followed by a hell’s no, would have induced audiences everywhere to throw pop-corn at the screen.  On the bright side, my gallbladder rejected me and I got over that.  Plus, my theme song will live on, and Lucas told me he’d write me a new song for the next time.   

Skipping ahead a bit, Saturday night, we went to Karaoke, and I sang George Strait’s “Check Yes or No” in honor of Friday’s events.  My friends and the Karaoke Jockey assured me in spades that they would indeed, check yes.  We eventually shut down the bar.  I left the bar first but when Shana made her exit into the parking lot she stated, “Now, that was the ultimate rejection.” And explained that the karaoke guy had said that if we gave him our numbers, he would let us know the next time it was slow and when everyone walked out without comment, he said, “…or not.”  I was appalled.  I would never do that to a person.  So, never a girl to miss an opportunity, Jen ran back inside:

Jen: Hey KJ! {Karaoke Jockey} She said I could give you her number!
KJ: For when it is a slow night?
Jen: or…whatever.

On picking songs:
Shana: She has a list
Me: You have a list?
Jen: I have a list.

On the dirty version of summer nights:
Jen: It’s a dirty one.
Shana: I know, I requested it.
(Then I proceeded to totally blush and thus I refuse to share the song with all of you, but I cannot prevent you from googling it on your own.)

On seeing that the bar’s Karaoke books actually were reused hospital binders that they hadn’t bothered changing the labels:
Jen: ….Hippocratic oath.
Shana: I prefer “hypocratic oath.”
Jen: Right. First, forget what I said before. 
Backing it up a bit, on Thursday, I went out to happy hour with the Barista’s from Caffe Ladro, Becky & Rollie.  Towards the end after some people had left, Rollie pointed out, “There are 6 of us at this table, and I am only hearing 3 voices and one of them is mine.  That can’t be good.”  Awk. Ward.

We went over to Jen’s to drink, eat ice cream & play Beatles Rock Band Friday night.

Lily (5): Don't even eat it, just drink it.

Me: Isn't it supposed to be octopi?
Rach: I don't think they had...
Me: Grammar back then?
Rach: No, the word octopus.
Also, every time I tried to draw/teach her cursive, Lily immediately tore out the page in her notebook and recycled it.  She just doesn’t appreciate what I have to offer.  There seems to be a lot of that going around. :P

Saturday was jam packed.  Despite my promise for rest, writing and reading, we went to the vet, Starbucks, the dog park, the skate board shop, lunch, Georgetown Carnival, and then on our way home to go in the pool:
Dawne: Do you want to just go on a ferry for fun?
Me: YES!
So… we did, with the dogs, for no reason other than it was a lovely day out and we could.

Dawne: Pretty doors
Me: On the crematorium?
Dawne: Is that what that was?
Me: Yes.
Dawne: Come on in - you'll never leave!
Me: I guess you do have to be especially welcoming in that business.

Maureen got a phone call during the day from the boys’ vice principal to inform her that Patrick was in her office because he said the F word.  Basically, the VP was very impressed that when Patrick came in, and she asked what he was in there for, he honestly answered, “For inappropriate language.”  Later, Maureen was talking to Patrick, explaining calmly that he shouldn’t use bad language.
Patrick: I know.  You shouldn’t even say things that sound like bad language.
Mo: Well, yes.  I guess that’s true.
Patrick: Yea, because I got sent to the vice principle today for saying “What the fuzzy?”
(Sorry to drop the F-Bomb on you guys.)

And now, Imma get some sleep.  I do wonder when I’ll stop sounding like Demi Moore.  I know, I know. People Karaoke shouldn’t complain about hurty voices, but I did it anyway!  

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