Monday, July 26, 2010

Summervention - Tubing Edition

Two weekends ago I drove from Richmond to DC to go dancing and make out with strangers at my friend's party - which totally didn't happen this time (sad face). Then I drove to Baltimore the next day for dinner, and then I had planned to drive back to Richmond. But I ended up drinking and dancing in the rain in Columbia Heights where it was decided that we, the people currently there, were going to go tubing the following Sunday. I didn't actually think it was going to happen, though since going on the Fourth I've wanted a re-do.

Tuesday rolled around and plans were underway and what started as a drunken suggestion was coming to fruition. (note: Fruition is really fun to say.) Then Saturday morning I got a text message that started "Pt. 1 of 2..." explaining all of the details for the trip. You probably don't care about these details, but these small details are huge. You see, I am a planner. I like planning things. I have always had to be the person to plan anything that I've ever wanted to do. I mean, seriously I have planned every single birthday party I have ever had except for my 18th birthday where my mom attempted to give me a surprise party that turned into a roast, "write down something you've always wanted to say to Amanda, it doesn't have to be a compliment..." THANKS, MOM! Anyway, I have given up on birthdays and generally other people planning things because other people are lazy and prefer to wait around for someone else to do all the work. I got to be one of those lazy people this time. AND included in the plans was a driver and a van "so that everyone can drink." Yes. YES!

So yesterday I picked up a chick and we headed to the van! And the van not-so-quickly filled up with people and soon Brite - that's "beer plus Sprite" (actually Bud Light Lime), was being consumed and Powerade bottles were being emptied as to be filled with mixed drinks later. So everyone got their electrolytes and was fairly hydrated before we hit the river.

Once on the river we managed to not make it to the far, less rocky side like you're supposed to, but we too occupied with making sure that we were close to the coolers. And each rock we came to then became a "bar." Pretty soon we were divided and people had floated away but I fortunately (or unfortunately) was tied to the person tied to a cooler. This made going over and around rocks all the more fun, and as we caught up with people more attached themselves thanks to the rope and knife our Planner had brought.

When the rain came, and the tornado sirens were going off and it was raining harder, we stayed in the river and watched the lightening and finished our bottles of various fun things. It was at some point during the rain that we untied our "crafts" and the cooler tube got away before we were able to close the cooler. The cooler was saved as was an actual Sprite bottle full of vodka. And after that it's mostly a blur, a really fun, messy, painful blur.

I lost my tube at some point and somehow, thankfully, but not really helpfully, the Planner found it and returned it. Because he got back way before me. I'm pretty sure it was the lack of tube that resulted in all of the scrapes and bruises on my body. Except for my feet, they are perfect because I wore these.

Last night when we probably should have showered and sprayed our bodies down with bactine, we didn't. But if we had, our bodies may have felt slightly better this morning. I haven't seen all the spots on my body, but every time I move I feel something new that I didn't know could hurt before. It's all fine, I can deal, except for the gash on the left side of my left middle finger. For all you right handed people, the idea of this happening probably isn't very distressing, but for me I can't properly hold things and my handwriting has been reduced to third-grader scrawl.

The exchanges today have been along the lines of "my body hurts" and the reactions have been "what the hell happened to you?" But the best reaction was my sister who explained to her husband that I looked like "someone locked me in a cage with a rabid cat."

Monday, July 5, 2010

Moving is Living

I made the mistake of watching "Up in the Air" again. I saw it for the first time when it was in theaters with my friend Spencer. We were escaping out families around Thanksgiving, I believe. He and I were both speechless at the end of it. I mean, what can you say? It's about our supposed realities that we create for ourselves based on delusions of our future.

Anna Kendrick's character, Natalie, is a foil to the selfish, conceited, condescending Ryan, played by George Clooney. Natalie is young, naive, indignant and Ryan has to show her the ropes and generally all the flaws in her way of thinking. That idea, of course, is that life is empty, meaningless, and weighing us down. He thinks it's revolutionary, Natalie thinks he's lonely and a pathetic shell of a human being. His love interest, a woman named Alex (played by Vera Famiga) seems to share his philosophy and love for travel or as she puts it so curtly they are "turned on by elite status."

Ryan and Alex make a point to see each other and fuck on their respective business trips. It's supposed to be a purely physical, maybe intellectual relationship - she seems to be the only person to understand his bubble. So, as movies go, their relationship deepens, or seems to. This is the part that I love because movies are always made about stupid women falling for jerks. But in this movie, he is the stupid one and ends up getting his heart crushed. I know on some level it's probably wrong for me to feel good about this, but this movie is about that guy who refuses to acknowledge anything beyond his glamorous career, and for once, there's not a fairytale ending. He doesn't see the light and she doesn't decided to be with him, they move on and I would assume are more careful in communicating their wishes with other lovers in the future.

It was already in the DVD player when I watched it again. My roommate recently got Netflix, I probably wouldn't have watched it again - not because it's not a good movie, it's a great movie, but because it makes me feel restless. All the feeling that I have right now are the exact same that I had the first time. And their very familiar. Their the ones that I get whenever I get too comfortable. This is a trait I inherited from my father and am drawn to in others. It's terrible. Wherever I am, I feel like I'm missing out on something else. If I'm in Richmond I want to be in DC, if I'm in DC I want to be in Baltimore, or Annapolis or New York or fucking Kinston, North Carolina. And if I'm in Kinston, I usually end up feeling terribly depressed and want to be in DC.

I have never lived in DC-proper, but I can honestly say that it will always be home base. One day, when I travel and have elite status at various hotels and frequent flyer miles I will also have an apartment in DC and will stay in it when I get tired of being elsewhere. And I probably won't go out while I'm there, unlike my current over-socialized trips to DC, I imagine that at the point in my life when I can have this, I won't go out much at all.

Until then I will continue to pretend.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

dancing > crying

Do you ever have days like this? Where those closest to you completely mock you and tell you that you're feelings are unwarranted? The whole having unreciprocated feelings things starts at such an early age.I could go on and on about how gender roles are defined and uncomplimentary from a very early age, but I'll save that for a research paper.

When I was three I was set on marrying the red power ranger or Elvis Presley - and I totally cried when I found out that Elvis was dead. I also cried when I found out that George Washington was dead - I had gone to "his house" shortly before finding this out and my dad did not tell me that we were going to a dead dude's house - MISTAKE! Ms. Malinowski, my kindergarten teacher, had to deal with a very distraught five year old that day.

The video won't let me embed, so watch it on YouTube .

If you're having one of those days, you can just watch this:

Do you feel better? Because I laughed for the entire duration of that video, and I would be content with that man singing the soundtrack to my life.

Now that you feel better, go dancing tonight, and if you're in DC maybe we can dance together.

Thursday, July 1, 2010


Yesterday evening I met up with a friend with whom I have not seen a couple weeks. She is carless, so I picked her up and we went to our favorite burger place.

Me: Here we got these samples at work, but we just stopped carrying this line. Their great, but I don't need the moisture one, so I thought I'd give it to you.
Her: Thanks, and way to turn that into an insult.

She has curly hair and it's pretty, but it could be prettier.

Later we're sitting at a table on the patio of the restaurant and I see this guy with whom mutual friends tried to set me up with last year. He's cute and according to the mutual friends "looks just like Ian Curtis." We met up for dinner once and walked through Oregon Hill and then back to Broad Street for ice cream one evening last year. I'm pretty sure we haven't talked since then. He apparently has a girlfriend, she's probably an art student, he's getting his graduate degree in something art related. Anyway, so he and his assumed girlfriend end up sitting two tables over from me and my friend. Neither he nor I say anything to acknowledge the other.

I fill my friend in on all the ridiculous happening in my life, as per usual. My life cannot get cut a break, ever. I suppose it's better this way, otherwise I would be so bored.

Our food arrives and I have ordered onion rings. I love onion rings, but I had forgotten how large the order was.

Me: Do you want any?
Her: No, I don't like onion rings.
Me: Really?
Her: I've always hated them.

about half an hour goes by...

Her: Actually, can I have one?
Me: Sure, but I thought you didn't like them.
Her: Actually, I've never tried them...(takes bite)...these are delicious!

We then proceed to walk around Carytown looking for hiring signs because she is looking for a new job. We see that a barbecue place is hiring so she goes in and fills out an application, I sit by an ice cream store down the way.

A woman and her two children come out of the ice cream shop. The little boy called Jack-Jack asks if he can sit by me (I'm in one of four chairs) an as I say yes his sisters sits in it, so he sits in the next one over. A man with a motorcycle helmet is sitting on the other side of him and becomes distracted by the helmet and drops his ice cream. While he is screaming, his sister tells me all about Robin Hood which happens to be playing at the dollar theater across the street, and their mother gives the boy her cone. She picks up her son's cone and sees that it can be salvaged. She takes a napkin out of her purse and wipes it clean and then trades her son. "You got a decent bargain, two flavors instead of one," say the man with the helmet. The boy settles down and my friend comes out and we continue on our way.

Today I had English. My "Image Analysis" was due today, it required me to find a print add in a magazine and criticize it. I chose a Skinny Cow add in Glamour magazine. I usually don't pay attention to add that aren't fashion related, but I have found that all the non-fashion related adds in women's magazines are incredibly insulting compared to the adds in men 's magazines. Ugh.

Anyway, we were told before our break to meet in the library after the break. I got there with a buch of my classmates and we all sat in a circle of loveseats and chairs. There was a little girl sitting on one of the loveseats and we all started talking to her and asking her about her books. Okay, not everyone, but me and the guy that I flirt with in this class (you have to have someone to flirt with in all of your classes, duh). Anyway, she was telling me all about her books when she left for a moment. When she came back she asked me to read her a story... I hesitated before asking her to pick one. She chose The Mitten, the story about a boy who loses his white mitten in the snow and a bunch of animals make room in it to keep warm before it gives and they are put out and then he finds his very stretched out mitten. The end. Anyway, I didn't make it though the entire story because my class was meeting in one of the group study rooms, but the little girl didn't seem to mind and thanked me for reading as far as I did. She was probably about six, and very bored. I would have been too, it was just so sad to me. I suppose it shouldn't be, but I had no idea who her parents were, but I can infer from my fellow classmates that they were probably single and can't afford childcare, and probably don't have time between work and school for storytime. It's such a shame, because storytime is really the only thing that matters before the age of nine when most people are capable of reading fairly well on their own.

My dad was the storyteller when I was a child. If we weren't reading one of the books from the giant stack we brought home from the library, he was making one up. He is to blame for my overactive imagination, slight paranoia and love for reading. And I find it difficult when I realize that not everyone is as luck as I was to have someone read to them everyday. I may be making too much of this, perhaps that girl does get read to frequently and just has no problem asking strangers to read to her. That's would still be an incredibly different experience than what I had, and I hope that's the case. Even so, those few minutes were surprisingly enjoyable as I read to not just her, but that circle of people. It felt strange, but comfortable.