goodness, manfolk

Edinburgh: Day 3

some nice lady was giving these candies away to the people waiting in line to buy tickets

We had such high hopes for today, but we couldn’t make it to the Palace at Holyrood.  We spent the majority of the day at the Britannia, a yacht for the royals that’s actually considered a palace on the water.

We wandered through just a few portions of each level of the ship, but it felt enormous.  The engine room was pretty amazing (a visiting German engineer, while on a tour of the engine room, is said to have declared, “These museum pieces are very nice, but I would like to see the engine room, please.”), lots of shiny copper pipes and glass covered pressure gauges.  The whole thing is lovely, if a bit cramped, but then I’m not used to maritime accommodations.

We took a break to have lunch at the only restaurant on the ship, The Royal Tea Room.  The wait was about 20 minutes and well worth it.  We had Famous Edinburgh and Assam teas, salmon sandwiches and Mull cheddar sandwiches, mushroom and truffle oil soup with giant french fries with seasoned salt on the side, and a scone with jam and clotted cream.  Too much food but super delicious!  We jumped back on the tour bus that brought us out, and listened to an informative, occasionally silly dialog between two fantastic accents (man and a woman) regarding the points of interest we passed on the way back to Edinburgh city center.

tea time at the palace on the water

We booked it to Edinburgh Castle, which is almost a thousand years old, and has never been taken in battle.  Recently, archaeologists found evidence of settlements on that very site as far back as 900 BC.  The castle itself has been rebuilt in various places, and purposefully changed by the Victorians in the late 1800s to look more “appealing,” and fulfill their romanticized idea of what the middle ages would have looked like (not super accurate, FYI, but kinda pretty if you’re not a stickler for accuracy, which I am, so fuck you very much, Victorians).  Needless to say, I loved the castle.  It also has the best view in the city, even on a rainy day like today.  You can see the clouds rolling across distant green hills, cold and wet, lush and fertile, secret and inviting.

impregnable door!

I’ve been craving fish and chips since that delicious bunch I got in Dublin, so we poked around until we found some (we checked out The Last Drop, a pub named in reference to the drop of a body on a noose rather than a drink, but they didn’t serve fish and chips).  But the fish was so boring!  I was so disappointed.  My last real meal in Edinburgh, and it was dull.  At least I had some really excellent fish last night at The Witchery.

The bus ride home was drama-free after yesterday’s slight panic about how we’d find our stop (which is not named on the list of stops in town).  Luckily, I’m awesome, and recognized our neighborhood by a shop name that was similar to a pub we went to on the first night, and the small clock tower that houses the pizza place of all things.

We’ve been home at the B&B for a couple hours, packing and getting ready to leave tomorrow.  Boyfriend has extra room in his bag (which has wheels, unlike mine), so he’s offered to take some of my stuff home with him: gifts for friends and family, and some of my dirty clothes.  What a sweetie.

I’m really gonna miss Boyfriend, but it’ll be nice to be on my own.  I’m so used to having someone to point things out to, share experiences with, hold hands with when it’s cold.  That part is going to be hard.  But I’ll enjoy having no one to double check with when I have an impulse.  That’s always fun.  I still have to make some solid plans for Oban.  I’m thinking of doing a day trip to Iona and Mull, and going horseback riding.  We’ll see.  If I can find a beautiful spot to sit, I’ll be happy.

Standard
goodness, manfolk

Edinburgh: Day 2

an armrest at St. Giles Cathedral

Our first visit to Edinburgh’s city center today, and my suspicions have been confirmed: Edinburgh is gorgeous.  Because it’s a historically recognized city, there are loads of regulations that force new buildings to closely resemble old ones (which are meticulously maintained), for extra police cameras to be placed all over to keep people safe, the cobblestone streets are immaculately kept (even in the residential area I’m staying in), and so on.  The historical sites are well organized and never crowded. Navigating the city was a bit challenging at first, but it’s so small that we became familiar with it very quickly. The little alleys that shoot off from the Royal Mile (the main drag) every ten yards or so are adorable and mysterious.  There are rivers running under the occasional bridge, he areas around which are a vibrant green and have an untamed look to them.

The day went something like this: Wake up and eat store-bought croissants and honey with tea, walk to bus stop and get worried that we’ll miss our stop when the driver fails to call out each stop.  Arrive at city center, and immediately get lost. Walk a full circle before finally getting to our destination.
Our first stop was Gladstone’s Land, a 17th century house with beautiful painted ceiling beams in the bedroom.  Old houses were built up to 13 stories high!  Of course they also fell down a lot, too.

Greyfriar’s Bobby. what a sweetheart.

Next it was off to find some lunch.  We found The Hub in a guide book which we forgot back at the B&B, but found it again in our wanderings.  It’s a cafe (among other things) built within a large old church.  We got a cheese plate which did nothing to fill me up (although Boyfriend was oddly satisfied), and went off to meet up with our tour group.  A nice older lady gave us a general history of Edinburgh during our walking tour under a constant drizzle.  The rest of the group was very stern and didn’t laugh at any of her funny (and true) stories of old Edinburgh, so I made a point to keep a smile on my face and listen intently.  It was all very interesting, to tell the truth, and she did a very nice job.  At the end of the tour, she took us down under the North Bridge, a dank, moist place that would’ve been pitch black and reeking of burned fish (they burned fish oil in their portable lamps).  We got the overall impression that life back then was not something to be envied.  Gardy-loo!

We stopped in a little cafe to dry off and satisfy my growling stomach (I’ve been eating more than usual with all the walking around).  After some scrambled eggs and toast, we set off for St. Giles Cathedral, which was more ornate than I had imagined.  I didn’t know anything about it beforehand, but I didn’t expect there to be shrines and gravestones to various important and wealthy people inside.  I had forgotten how old Edinburgh really is; St. Giles Cathedral was founded in the 12th century, and has plenty of beautiful carvings and windows to show for it.  I paid three pounds to be allowed to take photos in the cathedral, and it was well worth it.

white chocolate, strawberry ice cream with a very thick whipped cream and chocolate on top

We made it to The Witchery for dinner in plenty of time, and were among the first seated of the night.  We had three course meals of butternut squash soup, salmon, beef, and ice cream and cheese for dessert.  I ordered the Atlantic blackened bream for the second course, but was told afterwards that the chef had a look at it and wasn’t satisfied, so they substituted with salmon, which might have been the best salmon I’ve ever had.

I ran into one totally impenetrable accent today (although Boyfriend professed to be able to understand every word, what a liar).  The man with the accent took our photo with a statue of the Greyfriar’s Bobby, a dog that guarded his master’s grave for fourteen years.  If possible, it was more adorable that I expected.  Anyway, it turns out this guy was telling us about the graveyard just around the corner that we should check out, and we did.  Super cool.

there were loads of these skull and crossbones all over the graveyard on very old tombstones

All the shops seem to sell the same thirty patterns of cashmere scarf/stole/blanket/skirt/kilt.  Not sure if I’ll end up getting anything at all here by the way of a souvenir, even though this part of the trip has been just fantastic.  What I really wanted was an Irish kilt pin.  They’re so lovely and simple, just a circle or a C shape with a pin going through.  But they’re all so expensive.  Maybe some other time.
After the bus and a short walk home, I realized we didn’t have enough for breakfast, so after a quick rest we were back outside to walk to the market: croissants for our tummies, batteries for my camera.
That’s all for today!  Tomorrow is Edinburgh Castle (for real this time), the Britannia yacht, and the Palace at Hollyrood.
Standard
goodness, manfolk

Scotland, I am in love

Boyfriend and I arrived in Edinburgh today, and fell in love instantly.  Everything looks old, the accents are hilarious and fun, and we haven’t even been to the city center yet.  It’s been a drizzly evening, the cobblestones are jet black and shining under the streetlights.  The buildings are a grayish brown brick or stone, and everything else is green.  It’s just gorgeous.

kitty dreams of the outside world

But I’m ahead of myself.  Breakfast this morning at the Harrington Hotel in Dublin ended with the waitress calling over her shoulder to us, “Be happy!”  So that was adorable.

We booked it out of there, and made the bus and the plane to Edinburgh in plenty of time.  I looked out the window while we took off, and nudged Boyfriend to wave and say with me, “Goodbye, Ireland!  Bye, Dublin!”  I asked him if he ever did that when his planes took off.  He said, “Yeah, in my head,” and managed to leave out “like a normal person, you hilarious weirdo.”  What a sweetheart.

We took a bus and walked about a mile to our bed and breakfast, St. Bernard’s Guesthouse.  We decided against paying for a cold breakfast and bought some croissants, honey, tea, and cranberry juice.

We wandered a couple of blocks over to find some pre-dinner food (we hadn’t had anything since breakfast except for Worcestershire sauce flavored chips, and some bacon flavored… crispy things.  We couldn’t decide if they were tasty or gross).

Quick side note on airports in Ireland and Scotland:
I’ve never seen so few people, nor so many easy to understand signs and well-organized layouts in airports, at home or abroad.  Kids go running around, playing while the parents read and chat.  The people were so friendly, unlike the TSA people at LAX who are in a constant state of fuck-off.  When I commented on this to a teller, he said, “Well no one’s after us.  They’re just passin’ through to get to someone else!”  Well said, sir.

Anyway, pre-dinner food.  We wandered around and couldn’t find any place that served dinner before 6 except a place called Pizza Express, that sounds like shit but turned out to be a pretty upscale place, and served delicious pizza.  Mine had a fried egg on it, and we split a cider.  Amazing.

We headed back to the B&B to plan out our day tomorrow, and work up an appetite for second-dinner, which we decided had to have meat pie.  We found a delicious steak pie with blue cheese in it at The Stockbrige Tap just down the block from us, coupled with a Black Isle Stout (dark but brighter than Guinness).  We got to listen to the locals chatting in surprisingly comprehensible local accents, and had a nice walk home in the chill air.

There’s a small park just outside the B&B where someone was hosting a large party today until late into the evening.  It says light so late here (the lights come on around 10) that it’s easy to stay out later than you ordinarily would.

I’m super excited about tomorrow!  We’re taking a bus to the city center to save time and energy to visit the Undergound, a statue of a dog, a famous pub, and a museum.  I’ve been too excited to sleep for a few nights because of the cool stuff we’ve had planned for this trip.

Standard
goodness, manfolk

Ireland: Day 4

cold wind, warm sun

The weather today was just perfect.  The air was crisp, but the sun was shining all day with hardly a cloud in the sky.  Boyfriend and I walked to a park that was recommended to us, and sat on a bench for a while and watched a couple little girls (sisters) play and race.  One of them declared suddenly, “We must kill the dog!”  The dog was pretty cute, not sure what he did to deserve a death sentence.

We walked across the street to the National Museum of Ireland where we saw, among other things, The Taking of Christ by Caravaggio.  I could’ve sworn it was stolen, but there it was.  It was a nice little collection for a museum that charges no fee at the door.

everything was green

Just north of that was Lincoln’s Inn, where we had sandwiches and soup, and discussed how awesome we are.  Boyfriend did a little dance in his chair and when I was done laughing, I mentioned, as I have before, that I’m pretty sure I’d like to marry him some time in the future, if he keeps doing stuff like that.

Then we walkedforever to the Guinness brewery (two miles, but it felt like longer) and went through the tour of the place, which was highly informative and actually pretty interesting.  Tickets are 13 Euros, and allow for a tour, a lesson on how to pour a pint of Guinness (which takes 119 seconds and two separate pourings to complete, in addition to putting your thumb on the harp, filling to the top of the next harp, etc.), which you can then drink, plus a free pint upstairs at the Gravity Bar way at the top of the building with 360 degree views of the city and green hills beyond.

we poured this one together (Boyfriend did the first part, I topped it off)

We took a rail train four stops east, then walked to the “Oriental” area, where we got some boring noodle soup.  Then we headed back to Gogarty’s pub to get more oysters (a dozen this time!) and a cup of Guinness with some live music.  At 11pm a male and female dancer who used to work on Riverdance showed up to dance for us.  I couldn’t believe how lightning fast the woman was.  Obviously the man was impressive too, but the woman was crazy good.

It’s well past my bedtime now, and I’m looking forward to flying to Scotland tomorrow.  Dublin has been fantastic.  Next time I’ll have to rent a car and spend some time in the countryside.

 

Standard
goodness, manfolk

Ireland: Day 3

I cannot believe an illustration for Mr. Trout already exitst

We had another traditional Irish breakfast today, along with a dish of scrambled eggs with smoked trout, which Boyfriend immediately took to calling “Mr. Trout,” and continued with a little song, and, as the day wore on, full character description (he’s a detective who wears a fedora, has a family, and travels all over the world).  According to Boyfriend, “He’s on the case.”

After breakfast I went back to bed for a nap (my clock is still on Los Angeles time).  Boyfriend woke me up with stories of Mr. Trout.

We wandered around the city looking for Dublin Castle for a bit, and heard some enormous noise coming from the city center.  A formula 1 race was going on, so we went to check it out.  So loud!  We didn’t get to see any formula 1 cars, but we did see two very fast cars pull donuts right next to each other.

We got some fish and chips from a chain called Leo Burdock, super delicious, best fish and chips I’ve ever had.  And it looked like I got a whole fish!  Way too much food.  It was takeout only, so we popped into a hotel lobby and pretended to be guests while we ate and made use of their facilities.

We finally found Dublin Castle, bought tickets for the 4:40 tour, and visited Dublinia, the viking museum!  There were all kinds of dioramas with far too realistic-looking people (one of which is looking right at you as you turn a corner, super creepy), and a place to try on Viking clothes and helmets (which we did, with a fearsome pose).

Dublin Castle’s front door knobs were shiny lions, raaargh!

We rushed back to catch our tour of Dublin Castle, which I pictured in varying degrees of ruin, but it’s actually a fully functioning government building in most parts, and it’s just beautiful.  It lacks the gaudy, gold-plated look of older palaces of Europe, and instead has a quiet sense of cohesion and historical class that other, more ostentatious European buildings seem to be dripping with. We got to see what’s left of the Powder Tower (where the kept the gunpowder until it all blew up and burned the castle for two straight days), which was super cool.  The tour went too quickly.

We were signed up for a traditional music pub crawl at 7ish that starts at Gogarty’s Pub, so we found the place, then relaxed at an inn by the river to get tea and recharge before the crawl.  At Gogarty’s we had a cup of Guiness and a half-dozen oysters (delicious!) before we started out on the crawl.  There was a guitarist with a lovely voice, and an Uilleann piper (what he described as similar to Scottish bagpipes, “The only difference is Uilleann pipes sound good”), both of whom were very friendly and funny.  The Uilleann pipes really do produce a gorgeous sound, a deeper and more broadly ranging tone that, once it gets going, is impossible to resist stomping your foot on the floor to keep the beat.  The crawl was my favorite part of the trip so far for sure.  Afterward we grabbed more fish and chips (from the same chain, different location, since it was the only place open at 11pm on a Sunday) and wandered over to The Duke, where the piper recommended that we go to hear more live music (on our way in a woman almost ran us over on her way out.  The guy following her said to us, with a laugh, “Quick one, in’t she?  FOKKIN’ ‘ell!”).  The bar tender filled us in on the intricacies of Guiness, which tastes totally different and delicious here.  Apparently there’s a bar in Spain where the owner meticulously cleans the pipes once per week, which makes the Guiness taste “gorgeous.”  He said that Guiness is “like a baby” (very sensitive) and on a cold day the head will be smaller.

Anyway, the piper pointed out that good traditional music is played not for an audience, but in more of a jam session among the musicians, and that if you approach them to ask them to sing your favorite song, “the most polite answer you’ll get is something along the lines of ‘Well sing it yourself, then.'”

A few things I learned at the pub crawl:
-When an Irish person says ‘Irish’ it sounds like ‘Arsh’
-The Irish are “very hard to pin down” and are “notorious for never quite giving a straight answer.”  A man once asked for directions in Cork, and was told, “Well I wouldn’t start from here.”
-When drinking the two phrases commonly used are “Just the one,” and “Never again.”
-When playing that hollow drum they hold with the left arm and play with a short stick with the right, a good way to keep the beat is to say one of a few phrases in your head, like ‘Black and Decker, Black and Decker, Black and Decker,’ or for a different beat, ‘rachers and sausages, rachers and sausages.’  The piper said, “You can’t tell a child learning to play this instrument to play in four-four time with an upbeat every other measure.  The response you’ll get is, “I’m bored,” and my response is of course, “Me too, let’s go to a pub,” at which point they’ll say, “We can’t go to a pub, I’m just a child.”  So to avoid saying things that will get me fired from teaching positions, we stick with things like ‘Black and Decker’ instead.  I don’t know what we did before power tools.”
-A singalong is called a sing-song.
-The guitarist said, “If you were to kill someone with an Irish flute, you’d never get away with it because everyone plays it differently so you’d be recognized instantly.”
-One hilarious song they sang was about an Irishman who went to California during the gold rush, and was hoodwinked by a man dressed as a woman.  “She” got him drunk, took him to bed where he fell asleep, and when he awoke, he found a woman’s clothes, wig, and a shaving kit. So he puts it on, and goes outside and a man gives him a wink.  He sees how much money this man has, and offers him a drink in turn.  The chorus was something like “Her lips were red, here eyes were blue, her hair was as yellow as the gold she stole from me.”

nicer than our room by a lot

We crashed in bed and played Draw Something for a little while.  I’m actually writing this in the lobby the following morning (day 4), with some Italian tourists in the couch nearby since we have trouble getting a wireless connection in our room on the lower level.  Yesterday started with rain so we went out to look for ponchos.  I asked a couple of guys who were wearing some cheap ones where they got them, and they took them off and gave them to us.  So nice, such generosity.

Standard
goodness, manfolk

Ireland: Day 2

Day two in Dublin started with sun and ended with rain.  Apparently the weather change happens a lot here.

otters are the best

Boyfriend and I saw the Book of Kells today!  What a whimsical, incredible work of art.  There are all kinds of bizarre animals, like a bird with its feet in its mouth for a prominent “D”, and an otter with a fish caught in its mouth, which is now obviously my favorite part.

After that we exited into the Long Room, which houses all kinds of neat old books (I was told yesterday that “neat” is a distinctly American word).  I love old books, and the high ceiling is so pretty.  There was also a really cool wrought iron spiral staircase which Boyfriend and I really wanted to take a photo of, but alas, no photos allowed (but I found this one online that doesn’t quite do it justice).

note to self: WANT

We grabbed some sandwiches at Neary’s (smoked salmon, and chicken), then walked back to get a tour of Trinity College from a very funny graduate student.  It had started to drizzle, so when we got home we relaxed and forgot we had to be at dinner by 6 until 610.  It was 1.3 miles away.

We zoomed over in a taxi and were put in with the 7pm dinner group.  It was at The Brazen Head, Dublin (and possibly Ireland’s) oldest pub.  There we had a three course meal over a pint and coffee with dessert, and enjoyed some folklore and local history.  There were loads of Americans there, and the songs were great.

We didn’t end until 1030, and by then it was raining.  We mapped out a route home and got wet all the way.  I was getting into a bit of a sour mood until I reminded myself that this was Dublin.  It rains here all the time.  I should really just get used to it.  Then Boyfriend pointed out that we could put our clothes on the heater when we got back to the hotel room, and I got super excited.  Extra warm clothes for a cold day?  Yes please!

Breakfast this morning was delicious, by the way.  We’re having breakfast every day at the hotel, and it’s just lovely.  One of us ordered crepes with fruit, and the other got an egg with sausage, bacon, half a tomato, and pudding (some kind of oatmeal cake, not bad).  I’m looking forward to that tomorrow.  Plus, Dublin Castle!

Standard
goodness, manfolk

Ireland at last

we sat on the top level while our driver almost hit just about everything and everyone on his way to the city center (the German tourists up there with us were laughing and freaking out)

I’m in Dublin, Ireland!  I traveled for 27 straight hours, finally got to the hotel with Boyfriend and passed out immediately for an hour.  Then we had to go meet our ambassador, a local Dubliner who brought some vouchers and took us out for tea and croissants and scones, and told us about his city.  There was a quick mix-up at the Little Dublin Museum, and they apparently forgot all about us while we poked around and looked at some old U2 photos, so the head of the whole ambassador program took us out instead.  Thank you, Simon, you were really cool.

He gave us some great advice, then went back to work.  Boyfriend and I decided to get an early dinner at a French place he recommended (Guileton?) early so we can get a good amount of sleep. I got the best sausage I’ve ever had, and Boyfriend got lamb.  Our hotel room is small, with simple but pretty wooden furniture.  Although it sounds like some people are digging gravel outside right now… Anyway, I’m exhausted and excited about tomorrow.

I brought my ukulele with me, and made some friends at JFK as a result.  I totally hypnotized a little Indian girl, who watched me play for a good half hour before I left to pee and find some food.  She informed me, “I have a small guitar at home.”  I let her strum the uke, making different chords for her to play while a porter looked on, smiling.  Eventually he came over and chatted about how I reminded him of some woman on the kid’s show he watches with his little girl, Yo Gabba Gabba.

Nothing much else to report, except that tomorrow will be awesome, and I’m happy to see Boyfriend after so long a time.

Standard
goodness, humor, manfolk

I AM A PRETTY LADY

#whatshouldwecallme is hilarious.  I’m dying.  I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.  My tummy hurts, I can hardly breathe.  After five pages of ridiculous animated gifs, this is the one that set me off.

There’s another that says, “How I feel when I get dressed to go out.”  The tomboy in me cringes and smiles.  It’s so true.

hey look, it’s me, wow, awkward

Standard
badness, goodness

I am the worst

sonofabitch

I lost my iPhone tonight.  Again.

I lost my last one over Thanksgiving.  I got drunk with the cousins (had a ton of fun), left it in the bathroom, and walked away.  Half an hour later I remembered, went back, and it was gone.  I tracked it with MobileMe the next day, and set off to find it.  I heard the alarm go off once before whomever stole it turned it off or removed the SIM card.  So infuriating.  I can’t believe there are people who exist who wouldn’t return a phone.

So tonight, Ballerina Friend was picking me up near her new place (she moved in with Treehouse Friend in a place they bought together.  How crazy is that?!).  I was sitting on the curb behind my car, just playing my ukulele to pass the time with my phone sitting under my uke case.  She pulled up, I grabbed my uke case, stepped into her car, and drove away.  I saw the new place (super cool!), walked back to the car (from the wrong direction to see the phone if it was still there), and drove home, at which point I realized what I had done.  I immediately tore through my purse, raced downstairs, did a quick search for my phone in the car, drove back to the curb, and then the panic set in.

I came home to do the desperate MobileMe dance, and drove to where it said my phone had been kidnapped.  No dice: I couldn’t get a wireless signal to set off the phone’s alarm, so I couldn’t figure out where it was.

he drove a crown victoria instead of the new charger (not enough trunk space, apparently), like my dad’s old car, which I loved

But there’s a police station not a block away from where my poor phone was being held hostage (imagine how frightened it was), so I popped in with my laptop, explained the situation to a cute Asian LAPD officer (I’m a sucker for uniforms), and was handed off to a very nice white cop who said he would get his car ready, and we would go.  After about twenty minutes, he came back and we came up with a game plan.  We would go to a nearby Starbucks to get free wifi so I could update the location of the phone in case it had moved, then go after it.  Of course, we forgot that it was past 11pm and the Starbucks would be closed, but luckily a nearby business unknowingly obliged, and we discovered that the phone had stopped updating, which could only mean that they had turned it off, or removed the SIM card.  In short, they had no intention of returning it.

My heart sank.  I showed the cop the last known location on the Google map.  He said he would check it out, and meet me back at the station.

I drove back to the station slowly and sat on the short blue bench, waiting for the cop to return empty-handed.  Ten minutes passed.  I saw movement through the glass doors.  I looked up to see the cop, and in his hand was my phone, still in its case.

My eyes popped out of my head while I smiled and blurted out, “NO. WAY.”  I couldn’t believe it.  He said the person who gave it to him said that his kid had found it and removed the SIM card (yeah, right).  What an asshole.  But seriously, who cares.  The expensive part is back in my hand, so I can’t complain too much.

May the Flying Spaghetti Monster reach down and touch that police station with his noodly appendage.  Seriously.  All those shining stars bless the LAPD.  Just sitting in that lobby, listening to the calls the cute Asian cop was getting was exhausting and depressing.  I can’t imagine dealing with that night after night, year after year, when I could be cultivating friendships, making love with my deamboat Boyfriend, spending time on the beach eating watermelon and playing ukulele with friends and getting a light sunburn (guess what I did on Memorial Day).  All you shining stars, bless those cops.

What crazy about this is I haven’t felt this good, this excited about something in a really, really long time.  I went to Disneyland with Boyfriend, and felt next to nothing, which scared me.  I’ve been numb for a while now, and I can’t figure out why.  It’s not to say I don’t enjoy myself.  I had a great time at the beach yesterday, I love play ukulele, I have great sex with boyfriend.  But this was… a sense of how a little luck can just make my day.  I put work in, good things come out, this standard (and good, but I’ve grown too used to it I think).  Here was a small-ish problem in the greater scheme of things that would have tainted my trip abroad (I leave day after tomorrow), and it turned out so much better than I dared hope that I feel rebooted.  I’m too comfortable with my beautiful life.  A change of perspective is in order.

Unrelated side-story:
While I was at the station, three generations of the same family came in (boy, father, grandfather) to report that the 19 (?) year old boy had been hugged and kissed against his will by the grandfather’s caregiver.  The father gave the report, while the boy kept saying stuff like, “I feel like I’ve lost my manhood.  I told him what he did was wrong, and that he had to leave.”  The whole thing had sort of a smell to it.  The grandfather had a very obvious toupee.  At age 91, I hope I don’t care so much about my appearance that I feel the need to wear something silly.  I haven’t had that tendency yet, so I think I’ll dodge that compulsion with any luck

Standard
goodness, life

When juggling becomes literal

stay in school, kids

I just got back from a bar with friends.  I’m not a big drinker, and I’m a total lightweight (the two are related), so after one beer I’m pretty much done with drinking, and the rest of the night is spent socializing and sobering up, which is actually pretty fun.

Tonight we went to a bar that has a large outdoor area in the back.  They have turtle races, beer pong, and a beanbag toss.  I think tossing a beanbag into a hole twenty feet away is pointless and stupid, so I picked up three of them and started juggling instead.  Boardgame Friend came over and joined me (he can juggle too), and we decided to challenge ourselves.  He tossed me one while I waited with one in each hand, then used that one to start the rhythm.  Then I’d throw him one and he would start juggling with that one.  It’s actually pretty challenging, especially buzzed.  But we spent a solid hour or more on this little venture, on and off, throughout the night.  It was actually really fun, I almost worked up a sweat (we both spent a good amount of time chasing after wildly thrown beanbags).

Now we have to get some of our own so we can practice and get good at this!  I’ll have to find a toy store or something where I can get them for cheap.

Standard