I was going to refrain from blogging until our other friends posted, but seeing as only half of those invited even signed in and all 10 blogs have been from 3 of us, I decided to just blog to my heart's content.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Where are our friends?!
I was going to refrain from blogging until our other friends posted, but seeing as only half of those invited even signed in and all 10 blogs have been from 3 of us, I decided to just blog to my heart's content.
On the fly...
Over the past weekend (for the record, arguably the best weekend of summer. Though Father's Day in Elyria with three old drunks brings competition), anywho, over the past weekend I had not one, but two unexpected encounters with a species different than that of my own. While I brushed off the first encounter (literally), it was the second face-to-face confrontation (again, literally) that led me to the dontgochasingwaterfalls blog. Let's start from the beginning...
Following the arrival of the Elyria crew to the lovely put-in-bay island, I received a warning from a local landlord who can only be described as a true elderly pirate who was so esteemed to share his heritage with the world. He asked us young college scholars if we knew what a Mayfly is? Despite his serious look and obvious hope that we would say no, we collectively shook our heads yes. I knew not, what world of confusion I would find myself in that night. Those damn mayflies. What a pointless creature. These small insects live anywhere from 30 minutes to a few days, though they spend most of their lives annoying the shit (excuse my french) out of drunk college kids who are already struggling enough not falling down on the dance floor. Even the English language sees their pointless existence: "Hmmm...Let's add a month to the only thing they can do. Here's an insect, let's name it Decembercrawl." Through research I found one respectable trait. This creature does actually have two penises and grabs their mates mid-flight. However, not very practical when they spend their lifespan flying their manhood into my back.
I digress. May I take you along to the following day at a lovely outdoor wedding. The sun is setting, the people are smiling, the beer is flowing. In a time of paradise, the uninvited guests have arrived. No, it is not Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson, it is our friends by the name of Gnats. Why have they come with no invitation? Why have they waited until it's Shawn's turn to eat to have a seat on his cheesy potatoes? Do they believe people are actually waving hello as their hand shakes vigorously in the swarm?
Perhaps I should view Cronenberg's film production for further answers and pity towards such an undesirable contribution to this world...
Grande iced coffee with nonfat milk
I think it should be of note that the apt212 blog is clearly pushing all of the credit to one individual (at this point I am opting to not name names--coughmollycough) and I do not think that there should still be a grudge because I simply toasted inappropriately ONCE.
Good weekends always make Mondays feel more Monday-ish. The next door neighbors and myself converted our yards into an ultimate croquet course yesterday. I didn't realize how cutthroat of a game croquet really is! It's all fun and breezy while you're trying to get the ball under the pretty arches. Then when you finally finish the course you go around and try to hit everyone else's ball and "poison" them to death!!! Needless to say, I was the first one out. I got over it quite quickly when I realized I was in last place the entire game and there always has to be the first one out for things, I guess?
Shawn and I went grocery shopping after the croquet match. If you have never been shopping with Shawn, you're better off. Keep it that way. Not only does he aimlessly wander around Meijer Supercenter (which in any supercenter you need some sort of an idea where you're going or else you will get lost quite quickly) but he goes back down isles he has already been down!!!! Luckily I only went for a "light" shopping day. And he pushed me around on the front of the cart for a second, so it's like I can't complain too much about circular shopping. Ben and Jerry's was on sale (SCORE) and I got some bitchin' sauce for pasta tonight.
Well that's it for now, my samples should be done coasting down their gel and I need to take a picture of them. FOUR MORE DAYS until the camping adventure!!!!! My throat better start feeling better so I can once again drink too much and sleep on a damp floor with only one blanket (this time with a sleeping bag).
ride slow, homes
Sunday, June 28, 2009
My pretties, here we are again.
Our throats hurt. We think it has something to do with the perpetually damp floor that was our bed 2 nights ago. While we're gracious for Emily's hospitality, it obviously doesn't mix well with lots of dancing and screaming and lack of proper hydration. Stay tuned to find out what happens in our epic throat saga!
No air conditioning sucks, on account of the fact that if we close the wrong door in Katelyn's house, we instantly create a sauna out of what was once her bedroom. She wants the world to acknowledge how important air flow is in houses built before 1978. Molly would like to add a little suggestion to pay attention to lead-based paint for houses built before that time, too. Which leads us to tell all of you that Katelyn had to sign a waiver about the dangers of lead-based paint in the house she's residing in for the next year. Which, in the end, leads Molly to wonder if the damp floor really is the cause of our sore throats.
Last night=insane dance fest. ABSOLUTELY crazy. We went to Clazel's, which, for those of you who do not know these parts well, is an old theater converted into a giant barspace with a mad hazy dance floor. Pretty cool. It would have been even more fun if the creepy 30-year-old men had stopped stalking the women of our group as though we were fieldmice who would satiate the hunger of a giant hawk. Stay tuned to Molly's vlog rant from our PIB trip regarding this subject of objectifying people. (Hint: if you do this, then don't try to be Molly's friend; she will snub you.) Anyway, Clazel's, much like Katelyn's house, lacks proper air flow and the awesome dance party also allowed us to do enough working out for the rest of the summer. There was mild consideration of showering post-bar because we felt so icky. Regardless (or maybe due to) this fact, it was an excellent, excellent way to celebrate the awesome week that we've just had together.
To all of the BG loves, thank you thank you for hosting Molly and putting up with her shenanigans. She had so much fun (enough to stay in Ohio 5 days longer than originally planned) and can't wait to come back. She even got an offer from Brian to father her children, which is something she is very interested in. (DRC!!) She also wants all of you to come visit her. Please. :)
It's been real. We really don't want this entry to be over, but we're cowgirling up and doing it anyway. We're going to go jump on Shawn to wake his sorry butt up, and then we're all going our separate ways...for almost an entire week. There's a rumored Wisconsin camping trip for the weekend of the 4th. Anyone else in for the fun?!
SPECIAL WISDOM BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE GREAT PHILOSOPHER BALLY: The definition of "gurd." (Pronounced grrrd) v. Meaning to participate in a bowel movement and a regurgitation simultaneously. Made famous by drunks on their 21st birthday.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
motley crue
i am not in a state to be blogging at the current moment but it needs to be said for our followers (the matts).
the rest of apt212 gets credit from me when they sign up to follow and we start conspiring for BL(ogr)eunion!
Friday, June 26, 2009
Venti Iced Americano + white mocha + extra ice
DISCLAIMER: I did not mean to give Matt Smola all of the credit for the apt212 blog. I simply did this because a) I have not had the pleasure of attending green beer day in Oxford, Ohio and meeting the apt like Molly. b) I didn't want to be creepy and reference things like "I totally loved the post that the Econ final was finally over and I actually love maps too!" and lastly, c) the only clear memory I have of Matt Smola is him singing opera in the box during a soccer game (Elyria Parks & Recreation, my Dad was the coach. It got pretty competitive, but I'm sure you could imagine) waiting to play. Opera. We must have been 7 or 8 years old! Talk about advanced!! But anyways, when we go out for drinks tonight the first toast will go to the apt212: for making me wonder how many doubles Carmen Sandiego has, because no secret agent of that caliber is that stupid to be spotted so often.
I wish they made bumper stickers that say "I'd rather be blogging." When I think about our most recent adventure, my blogging material exponentially grew. So I'd like to describe two short situations that are worth mentioning:
1. I hit on a 75 year old man. I know everyone says that the island makes you do crazy things, but looking back I don't really know what I was thinking. I mean yes, I was at this point what this generation calls "tipsy," but when I'm explaining to Jack (let's just call him Jack for descriptive purposes) that I'm a biology major and I think it's great he's a farmer, I don't know why I didn't walk away. He has two kids, 34 and 29 respectively, and came to the island with a guy that got too drunk--and Jack didn't really care that they were separated. Now this is red flag #1: why would I want a man that didn't care where his friends dipped off to? This leads me to red flag #2: why were my friends missing enough that I had to opportunity to spit game at a man old enough to be my GRANDFATHER? We talked for a while though, he offered to get me a drink but I kindly said "No thank you, today was pay day and I'm more than capable of purchasing my own drinks." I think I told everyone I met it was pay day. That's not really a great conversation starter; people just looked at me with a blank look and then I would laugh far too loudly for there to be no joke.
2. Pat, Shawn, Danny, Molly, and regretfully myself all did one of the most pathetic walks of shame known to mankind. Granted, this was not little-black-dress-and-sexy-high-heels style, but we were clearly lost on a small island where people pointed (LITERALLY) and laughed at us. After sleeping on a damp floor and snoring rather loudly (or so I was told) I didn't know how unfortunate our circumstances were going to become. Our island connection's cell phone was turned off, we did not have a car, we did not have our pride, nor did we have a good sense of direction between the five of us. But luckily we had Pat and his awesome attitude to get us through those trying times. If I were the golf cart rental place, I would not have let myself rent a cart. Which by the way, you assholes still owe me $6 for that. But luckily we made it to the condo or whatever it was, and ate and laughed and sat in the sunshine. (I loved breakfast)
Well, that's it for now. I'm going to take a shower because my feet are black, because whatever bar thinks having a bubble machine positioned over the dance floor is a fool. Bubbles pop, which then leaves a soapy residue. Mix that residue with split beer and you have a slip in slide for adults! Winning the falling over competition: MOLLY! SHE FELL ON HER OWN ONCE AND THEN WAS POWERBOMBED BY SHAWN! Second place: ME PULLING PAT DOWN WITH ME. If I have to fall, I'm taking Pat down too. I leave you with a quote from Jonathan Safran Foer, an author that describes beauty in a way that it deserves.
Ride slow, homies...
"I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone." -Jonathan Safran FoerThursday, June 25, 2009
Q: Already posting again? A: YES.
What have you done...
Dear Matt Smola,
If you are reading this, you have probably already realized the impact your life has made. I have not heard your name in a few years, and yet you are starting a revolution in other parts of the world. Please tell me how you do it.
Your Former Boy Scout Companion,
-Shawn Bally
ps. I hope my parents don't get on here. If they find out I use to smoke Black and Milds, they may withdraw me from school!!
Oh and Pat, you suck at life.