Pro-Choice

It's all about choices. The other night, for instance. My friends Micheal and Jesse went to some dive on Powell to meet friends. They resuscitated a pit bull that was hanging out of a car (apparently it jumped through the open window and the leash was tied to something inside the car. It had given up and was actually just hanging there all limp. Mike gave it mouth-to-nose resuscitation while the owner was inside drinking pabst.) and then they proceeded to do some serious late-night wrestling in the gravel lot across from the bar. Wrestling. Complete with a referee and bloody elbows. I had considered joining in on this evening. Glad I didn't.

Instead I went out to my parents' house and stayed the night. I don't have a room there anymore but they make up the spare bed for me (it's a futon). I finished Watership Down (one of my absolute favorites. Yes, it's a book about rabbits), ate some cous-cous and then we watched a BBC Hercule Poirot mystery. If you don't know what I'm referring to, then you are way cooler than I am.

Savage Beast

You think you know a person . . . . and then you go snowboarding with him. Meadows got 16 inches on Friday and we got a carload together to head up early on Saturday. Kyle Carnes drove (it's pronounced Carns but in my head I pronounce it with a spanish accent) and Carin and Huy came along, and we got a pretty early start considering I overslept and Carin locked her keys (and her skis) in her car.

We get to Meadows and it is sunny and beautiful and and we start putting on our boots and all that business and I notice Kyle is just standing there, still wearing his jeans and his Topsiders with no socks and he doesn't look ready at all. "Kyle," I say, "What are you doing? You ready?" He proceeds to pull on some rain pants. Like, your average probably not even Gore-Tex black rain pants, the kind you might wear on a brief hike when it's not actually raining and maybe just a little misty. Over his jeans. I am blown away. And then it just gets more hesh. Does he have a jacket? No. A windbreaker? No. Kyle Carnage rocks the sweatshirt. He gets hot, he says. He wears a sweatshirt with leather work gloves and amber lens goggles from '92. His bindings appear to be prehistoric prototypes and he informs us that his board is some brand that we've never heard of that definitely is not producing boards anymore. It was amazing. The topper? One of his friends carved his stomp-pad into a somewhat inappropriate word. And the remnants are still there. It turns out Kyle Carnes is totally extreme. Watching him put on his gear in the HRM lot was one of my favorite moments of my favorite day of the 2009/2010 season. We even did a family photo.

For the Love of God

So, it's Dress-up Friday today which usually means it's a good day. I'm one of those superficial people that believe you feel good when you look good, and ending the work week in this manner usually leads to a positive start for the weekend. But I put on one dress and had to change because it made me look sallow and then I settled on one of my new naked lady dresses courtesy of Morgan, this black peasant dress with brown and white crochet detailing at the neck and the hem, and then had to empty my bag of tights onto my bed, finally settling on my sheer black pair because all the opaque tights were dirty. I had never worn these sheer tights before. But it looked okay. Ran outside. Got on my bike. Started pedaling. Went about a block before I noticed a tiny irregularity on my upper thigh. Tiny. No big deal. Kept pedaling. Two blocks. It's a run. A tiny run on my thigh. Kept pedaling. Before I had gotten to 15th it was a substantial run. And it just kept growing. Every time I looked down it had grown. Soon it was a hole. A hole the size of f-ing China. And then! And then it sent out runners, like a noxious weed or something, and I have these runners that are seeking to colonize my knee and I'm just like, really? Really? And this guy wearing shorts, socks, crocs and an orange safety vest cuts me off on his bike with panniers filled with like, a million pop can rings and empty shopping bags like he was planning on running out and killing some baby seals. And then I realized my tire was flat.

Naked Ladies

So, I'm sure this post is going to disappoint people. I know the strip basketball post did. Apparently there are a lot of people out there interested in strip basketball, especially if it involves a video. Creeps.

Anyway, Club 834 hosted one last night and I'm pretty sure it was a success. It was for me anyway. For those who don't know, a naked lady party is a clothing exchange amongst friends. You bring items that you don't wear anymore, throw them in a pile and people start digging through and trying stuff on and it's kind of a madhouse.

My top five finds last night:

1. Multi-stripe maxi dress-perfect for summer days

2. Turquoise brocade coat with giant buttons- I was just telling Heidi that all my jackets are man jackets and this is a coat for a lady.

3. Peacock feather earrings

4. Glitter grandma leopard sweater- I'm not sure why this is, but I am the undisputed queen of grandma sweaters. The more absurd the better. Blessing or curse?

5. Sailor stripe jumper- For my Lolita moments. I'm too old for it, but that doesn't mean I won't wear it.

Spirit Animal

I'm not sure why this is, but apparently people hate manatees. How could you hate manatees? Look at that thing. I've always loved manatees, the reasons are endless but stem from a wine-laden night and a comparison of our giant schnauzer Cyrus to a manatee. This came from our dear family friend Mike, who made this statement with all the flourish of important discovery. When I was teaching kids english in Japan and forcing them to tell me their favorite animal (Typical response: I like dog. I like cat), I would say "I like manatees." And they would make that noise and give me that look and then I would draw one on the white-erase board and there was that light-bulb moment, ohhhhhh, dugong. And I had this great manatee key chain for a really long time, it would come detached from the ring and then I would find the manatee in random places, car, home, ground, until finally one day I didn't.
This comes up due to the spirit animal discussion that has been prevalent at work lately; I'm designing a t-shirt for our upcoming team-building event. My immediate response of manatee received violent negative reaction from coworkers and friends: their slow-moving nature, their resemblance to cows (they are referred to as the gentle sea cow), world's dumbest animal with tiniest brain, and their inability to avoid being hit by boats.
They didn't evolve with speed boats. They can't help it. And I love them. However, I am open to suggestions regarding my spirit animal. Please know that this would be in appearance only, a one-time shirt thing, my alliance to the manatee has not faded.