Like, Freaky Deaky

Ahh, four-day weekends. The only time one can safely reveal one’s true level of idiocy and have enough time to recover from it before going back to work. I had a thoroughly fantastic weekend … Saturday and Sunday were just as good as Thursday and Friday, despite not being national holidays. Who knew?

{Editor’s note: Please check out all the pictures I’ve linked to - I spent a long time doing it, and otherwise I’ll get snippy. Also, you can alter the pictures from “Fit Window” to “Normal Size” or “Large” to see them in better detail.}

Saturday Night:
Nothing is happening. I am bored. I stop watching the “E! True Hollywood Story” about Beverly Hills, 90210 and go to the computer. I hop on the Scribble server, and start chatting with Mike about how I’m bored and we should go do something. We decide that we (and his friend Jeremy) are going to go see Minority Report, and then maybe - just maybe - go bowling. Mike comes to pick me up (‘cause he’s a nice guy). Here is the obligatory picture of me with my new haircolor, to placate everyone who is far away. We want to go to Shari’s, but we don’t have time before the movie, so we go to Toxic Hell. Here is the scenario:

On our way into the parking lot, we are joking about “Le package totale” and those crazy Iron-Chef-esque commercials. There’s a sign for it in the window, so we decide to give it a try. Mike swaggers up to the counter, spreads his arms wide, and in his best Pierre (the French Fighter Pilot) voice, exclaims “I’ll have Le Package Totale!” The woman at the counter stares at him as if (and I quote) he had grown three heads. She says “What?” and he starts frantically back-peddling. “Um … the chicken bowl? That’s what they call it … in the commercials … ?!?!” The woman continues to stare blankly. He points at the picture of it. She finally gets it. She seems to think the two of us ride the special bus. His face is now an entirely different shade than it was when we arrived. I already consider the evening a success.

After Taco Bell, we proceed to the movie… which is alternately thrilling, silly, frightening, disgusting, and contrived. Among other things, I learn that colored contacts are cool. I want some for myself. The single most implausible part of the movie for me is Tom Cruise buying clothes for a woman and having them exactly fit. Puh-leeze. Women can’t even buy clothes for themselves without trying them on and have them fit well. Mike wants one of the cars from the movie, but I explain that they specially made that one for Tom Cruise, and because he’s so short, nobody else can fit into it unless they’re his height or shorter. Um. (How tall are you, anyway?)

Afterward, despite Jeremy’s relative chagrin (and him yelling “I hate you guys!” across the parking lot), we go to Sunset Bowl. Mike, Jeremy, and I fetch our bowling balls and shoes (after sitting in the seedy, seedy bar for a bit and reminiscing about stale cigarettes, watery beer, and other college-related things.)

FINALLY, after waiting and waiting, we finally get stuck in the end lane (#26), which we decide is equivalent to sitting in the back of the bus. Now, here I have to go back a little - last weekend, I bowled with Benlau. Ever since then, I’ve had this horrible sprain-type pain in my left butt cheek, and for some reason I couldn’t figure out what it was from. The first time I bowl, I figure it out. Ow. Let me repeat, OW. The moment I start whining about it, I am beseiged with bowling-commentator-comments, including (my favorite) “Bob, that truly is a butt to believe in.”

I’m first. Next is Mike. Now, I’d heard a bit about Mike’s frightening bowling style, but I had no idea what I was in for until the first sonic boom. Essentially, he walks toward the lane, and THROWS THE BALL STRAIGHT DOWN and hopes it rolls somewhere. With each *THWACK* of the ball on the wood, Jeremy and I cover our heads and cower in the corner. By the end of the evening, Mike’s “No Pain, No Gain” bowling strategy evolves to a completely different level. Not only does he end up on the floor, he also wins the third game. Go figure.

Jeremy, on the other hand, looks like a bowling champ. His style is flawless … but once the ball leaves his fingers, it has a mind of its own. Here is Jeremy looking slick, Jeremy looking even more slick, and Jeremy giving it up and trying it left-handed.

Here is our favorite shot of the evening. I have no idea how this happened. Even the computer stops and mocks Mike. This is a miracle of modern bowling.

Finally, at three thirty in the morning, we give it up and go home. I end up winning two games out of three, so I don’t feel too bad for myself. Despite my aching derriere, the evening gets a big old thumbs-up in my book.

Sunday Afternoon:
After not much sleep, I get out of bed and head out to Dolce Vita to eat some gelato and play Blank White Cards with Mike et all. I finally get to meet GeeGaw, as well as getting to spend more quality time with Brian Grunkemeyer (one of my IMSA harem). It’s … a very interesting game, and it was a fun excuse to meet some new people. I was really proud of some of my cards, and really not very proud of some others, but I’m sure some of them will be posted on the BWC site at some point. Also - pistachio gelato is GOOD.

Sunday night:
I’m at work. Why, you ask? I don’t have computer access at home except when my housemates are all gone. I originally came over here with the intent of getting caught up on some stuff, but at this point I don’t know that I’m mentally capable. I got caught up looking at silly pictures, and you know what happens when I do that.

This.