No two people are not on fire.
Week one at my new job as a camp counselor is almost over, and I have no complaints. All right, so we spend a large percentage of the day in the bathroom and I feel like I'm the only counselor on spill patrol at snacktime, but that's forgivable. I'm getting paid to play with a herd of four-year-olds all morning! I almost know all thirteen of my kids' names and I've established enough authority over them to actually get them in some semblance of a straight line when I have to. Sure I feel like I've shouted myself hoarse coming home every day, but it's not because the kids are bad - it's just because I have to make myself heard over their gibbering if I want to get anything done. Thus far every such annoyance has been worth its weight in sheer cuteness. Today one of my little boys turned around, looked up at me, and said, "You're beautiful." Then he turned to his friend next to him and said, "don't you think she's beautiful?" And his friend, very decisively, goes "yes." ZOMG SO CUTE!
After nearly a week of rain and indoor play, we finally got to bring them outside today for a toy car wash. It was the first time I didn't have to be in the midst of the chaos entertaining them, because they took care of it themselves. When we're stuck inside the counselors have to get really creative. Bathroom break becomes storytime for the kids who don't have to pee. Walking down the hall becomes follow the leader with some pretty sweet variations (picture me pretending to be a frog, an airplane, and a chicken). BUT, the lady who supervises the supervisors told me I'm a natural and she could tell right away! =) So overall this job's a lot of fun and really rewarding (and it'll be waiting for me next summer if I want/need it), but I know I'm not ready to be a parent because after three hours, I'm REALLY happy to go home!
I didn't get to do that yesterday, though. I watched Sharon's kids from noon til seven. They are the EPITOME of adorable! I convinced them that hunting dragons is my night job. I said it's very important because people don't believe in dragons, so they can't be allowed to see any - and that's why I have to keep them under control. XD They always want to play doctor. Last time I said I had a sore throat and a headache, so Zander took my temperature and decided the only cure was to give me a tattoo on my hand. I said "I don't like needles! I don't want a tattoo! What is it of?" and he said, "a circle with colors in it." Oh. Well, that's okay I guess. Especially since I told him he had enough earwax for me to go spelunking in his ear canal. After that they decided to play hair dresser. Zander started shaving the sides of my head and I said "DO I LOOK LIKE A BOY? Are you giving me a mohawk or what?" Well by the time he and his sister Aizza were finished, I was sporting an imaginary rainbow mohawk.
Speaking of my hair, I'm getting a real haircut tomorrow. Any ideas? I've got to chop off a good four inches, but I don't want to go shorter than my shoulders. I was thinking maybe a little longer in front and shorter in back, but that would require me to straighten it I think and I am way too lazy to do anything with my hair 90% of the time. The other 10% of the time I feel obliged to look decent for le Paul. Oh- also, I want to grow out my bangs. So that doesn't leave a whole ton of options. Tell me what you think I should do!!
I'll end on a musical note. I am falling in love with every word that comes out of Matt Nathanson's mouth. I want to melt at every line! Oh love songs....
Kicks and Giggles
The third installment of my Life At College series. A bit belated, I know, but let's all enjoy reliving the memories, shall we? We're far enough removed to laugh about it now....
Installment four to be completed in the (semi) near future (i.e. hopefully before installment five starts up in August!)
Everything you do makes it easy to fall in love with you.
Paul and I had a lovely 6-month anniversary celebration this weekend. Paul will call it a victory celebration, and I can't really argue that: six months marks the longest relationship I've had, and still no qualms!
He surprised me with flowers. Now, as a guy, you can never go wrong with flowers, especially red roses. See how pretty they look in my kitchen? I smile every time I walk by them. ^_^
(I love that the chalkboard in the background says "Happy B-Day Julia.")
For dinner we went to my favorite restaurant, the one my family often went for special occasions and celebrations when I was younger. Paul hadn't been there before but he enjoyed it as much as I did. It's such a cute, quirky little place; what's not to love? It's out of place on the busiest intersection in town, surrounded by the likes of Taco Bell, Mickey D's, Chili's and a car dealership. You'd think it was someone's cheery little yellow house. Out back is this tiny little dirt lot. You wouldn't suspect a thing - but surprise! It's a restaurant. The walls are decorated with strawberry-themed antiques and the tables and chairs are all mismatched. It feels like a little, very eclectic country kitchen. And the food is SO GOOD. We both ate way more than our stomachs could actually fit.
That, of course, meant we had to go walk it off at the reservoir when we got back to my house. Dusk was just turning to night and the fireflies were out in the canyon by the dam. Unfortunately, so were the mosquitos, so we soon walked back home and usurped the family room to watch Toy Story 2. Paul's idea, not mine, I'll have you know. Not that I would ever complain about watching Toy Story. I just thought it was worth mentioning since I generally complain about him choosing terrible movies. So, on top of being the reigning champion of my love life, Paul must also be congratulated for doing absolutely everything right on our anniversary. ^_^
And now it's tangent time! Because what would my blog be without random drivel peppering every post? Has anyone else noticed that Woody looks an awful lot like Gabe Saporta? It's his eyes and mouth, I think, and the general way his face moves.
My new theory is that Pixar is wholly responsible for Cobra Starship. How else could that band possibly be as amazing as they are? Okay, that's all I have to say about that.
How to save a life (and a million other rants)
I got CPR certified today. It's for my job as a camp counselor, which starts the 22nd. I'm pissed because there's this one girl, let's see I'll invent a name for her so it's not gossiping.... We shall call her Alyssa. When I saw Alyssa at orientation on Monday I was like WTF??? She lives really close to me so I know the cops are at her house ALL THE TIME because she's always having crazy parties with booze and stuff. She's been at it ever since she got into high school. And now she's working with people's children?? Really? And old enough to be behind the wheel of a car? I mean we're talking Apocalypse-scale disasters waiting to happen here. Well she was late tonight. When she came in an hour after the class started, I was like YES. Now she can't work. Not because I don't want to work with her, although it's true that I can think of no less pleasant way to spend my summer (except maybe with That Guy/SFG), but more because I really don't think she should be around people's children. But they certified her anyway! So now if something actually goes wrong, she won't have a clue what to do! REALLY PEOPLE? >:(
And now a rant that actually crossed my mind a couple nights ago but I was too lazy to post it then. I hate Facebook. I really, truly do. It first entices me to creepdom and then reveals things that make me want to break stuff. So this person from my deep, dark past of not that great a depth or darkness is now living the perfect life in the perfect state with a perfect job and a perfect marriage with the only girl in the world who could ever possibly put up with him. He's paid no dues. He has been entirely irresponsible with his entire life. His high school degree doesn't even count! He never did an ounce of work the entire time I knew him and only graduated because he was home schooled! He never did shit, he doesn't know shit, he's never experienced shit. Now he has a job, like a legit one that there is actually a selective process for getting, and HE DIDN'T EVEN GO TO COLLEGE. He is responsible for guiding kids through the process of adolescence as if he could understand their position, as if he ever experienced a second of normal existence in his adolescent life. I mean, I never hated him or wished bad things to happen to him. I didn't want him to fail at life entirely. But it should not be this easy! He's had no pain and all gain! He's ONLY three years older than me. HOW IS HIS LIFE THIS GOOD?
I think it's funny how high school kids' idea of a good time is taking a zillion photos so everyone on Facebook can be jealous of what a good time they had. I think it's disgusting that Facebook albums no longer have a limit on the number of pictures people can post in an album. Nobody has time to look through a dozen different people's 200-photo albums of the same event! This change increases self-absorption because now we believe that people owe it to us to look at these Godzillalbums. 60 pictures was a lot to ask, but doable. 200 pictures is grounds for deletion of friends. Consider yourselves warned.
And now a question of actual importance. Do employers really look at your friends' Facebook profiles? That's really dumb if they do. No there are no pictures of me naked at keggers floating around the internet. The most incriminating thing you could find would probably be me and Sares dyeing our hair turquoise last year. But never in the past have people been so sharply and invasively judged by the people they work for, especially for things they can't control, like what kind of language and pictures people who went to their high school may choose to use on their profiles. I'm not saying I'm hiding anything. I don't think there's anything especially incriminating about pictures of me and my friends bumming around a 24-hour Wal*Mart with goofy galoshes and a gallon of ice cream. But it still feels wrong, like people are prying into something that shouldn't - DOESN'T - concern them.
Now that I have you all in a nice negative mood, it's time for a poll: Would people comment more if I didn't make such long posts? I tend to treat this thing like a journal sometimes... XD
Weekends are for the Warriors!
Wow what a weekend it has been! And the longest one I can remember having all year. I have finally discovered the secret to slowing down the racing rapids of time: NO SLEEP! Haha. But truly. Friday feels like a lifetime ago. I had lunch with Gill and Cara that day, which was great because I hadn't seen either of them in over a week and that is unacceptable for summertime. But I was sick most of the week so it was really all right. Paul and I had a date that night and I made him take me to see "Up," which was amazing! Just the right amount of goofy and random mixed with totally adorable. Even Paul managed to like it, though at first he was like "NO. We're not seeing that." Win!
Saturday, Cara and I helped one of my former teachers throw a custom birthday party. Holy cow. Any family that can afford that for their daughter has to really be raking it in. It's a catered event, and when I say catered I mean there are sandwiches cut in hearts, stars, and crown shapes, shoe shaped cookies, and cupcakes adorned with massive frosting flowers and butterflies. Sharon (it's weird for me to suddenly call her by her first name after being her student) brings costumes and puppets. She sings and plays games. I mean WOW. I would've loved to have Princess Sharon throw me a party as a little girl. But I don't think we were ever that rich.
It was a long drive there and back, during which Cara and I had significant discussions about some of life's bigger issues. Things are a-changing, we noted; our discussions, which once circled around Pokemon and schoolgirl crushes (and schoolgirl crushes on Pokemon characters... I mean... that never happened XD), have shifted to anything from work to booze to sex to families (the ones we have now and the ones we will start in the not-as-distant-as-it-once-was future). Sometimes I hate that I'm growing up, but other times I think about it and realize that I have always been content no matter what age I've been. I think you grow into the number. But age IS just a number. Even if you're dealing with different issues than you used to, it doesn't mean you have to be grown up in every sense, and I don't think I ever will be (just wait til you hear how we spent the rest of the weekend if you don't believe me). However, adults need to behave like adults when they are in families and relationships and stop acting like nobody else matters. Their thoughtless selfishness scars the people they ought to care about and that's unacceptable.
Okay, random tangent, sorry. That night we went to Paul's for a movie night. I don't know when we will learn that he's the wrong one to send to Blockbuster. I felt bad that I'd dragged him to a kids' movie about a house that travels by balloon power so I didn't argue, even though the back of the movie was fraught with terrible grammar and spelling, which should've been enough to clue us all in to the quality of the thing. I mean talk about no plot, disturbing (if not especially graphic) violence/sex for absolutely no reason, terrible acting, terrible writing, and terrible cinematography. Even Paul hated it, and he picked it.
Then Cara and I drove to the other end of the world to swim in Gill's pool. I was glad to have something to do all night, since in spite of my sickness I'd been struck with pretty bad insomnia for the past couple of nights. We had to take a long, dark, winding detour because 3A was shut down for a few miles. Got there at 1AM. The pool was deliciously warm and we were at that silly, happy point of tiredness that I've missed for quite some time. Quote of the night: "I wonder if I can stretch both of my legs without blubbbjihaiewhfjasdnfl." The answer, Gill, is you can't.
After swimming, we went to the 24-hour Wal*Mart to buy ice cream. It was 3AM. Gill and Cara had to sit in the car seats and dance about in silly galoshes. Then they bought sippy cups to drink their Mountain Dew out of. Cara did Cher impressions on the car ride home while Gill sang like the old man in Teen Girl Squad who has the running gag about ointment. Then we devoured the gallon of white mint chocolate chip ice cream, drank allegedly citrus flavored soda out of baby cups, and watched Pokemon until we fell asleep.
Only two hours had gone by when Gill's mother came in to complain about us sleeping in the living room, open all the shades and proceed to do something in the kitchen that involved a suspicious number of pots and pans. So I got up and left. I had to be at church to videotape the sermon anyway. No matter that I was almost an hour ahead of schedule. Somehow I made myself look alive, went to the service, and filmed the thing, averting the slight disaster of not getting shit for audio and having to awkwardly run around the sanctuary trying to fix things. I looked after the pastor's son for a few hours while most of the congregation went to a wedding and then joined Paul and Mama Swede for dinner.
I really appreciate that she always feeds us when we go there and I will never complain about that. But apparently my body forgot how to digest ham, because I felt awful when we left for Gill's. Still, I went swimming with everybody (meaning Gill, Cara, Paul and Tony, except Paul wouldn't get in because he didn't have a swimsuit), laughed at the awkwardness that is my friends, tried some of the beer that Paul snatched from his Mom's fridge (which is really lame since he's old enough to buy his own), and went to Wal*Mart again to get noms. It was fun, but I don't remember a whole lot of details. My brain was beyond functioning. I probably said/did retarded things that made no sense, like even worse than usual. I remember I was jumpy because I kept imagining that I saw people out of the corner of my eye. Every time I blinked it felt like I had been startled out of a light sleep. If I stayed awake beyond midnight, it wasn't by much.
I had to bring Paul back for work this morning. Gill and Cara still hadn't slept when I left. I crashed the second I got home and slept for four glorious hours. Still not feeling quite human but it was all worth it. =)
What time is it? ADVENTURE TIME!
Wow, when everyone's asleep, my house is like the soundtrack to a safariventure. Every step produces a creak louder than the last, and on a different note, too. Even the cabinets are in on it - in fact, they're the noisiest of the lot. Honestly I don't know how my Dad can go into the kitchen for noms to quell a midnight diabetic attack and not wake every person in the household; he must be magic or something. I went down for a snack last night and good grief you'd think the London Philharmonic Orchestra was in the living room! And I am invariably the last person to bed, so I have the good fortune to experience this every single night I'm home! Yippee. But it seems it has been a while since I last drove home late at night. Usually when I get back, Leo's visible over my neighbor's yard. Tonight it was the Big Dipper; Leo had already set, or nearly. Somehow I know Gill is responsible for this. XD
So why did I arrive home so late this evening, you ask? Well, my friend, it is because THE KETTLE SOCIETY LIVES! Or the slightly modified Kettle Society, I should say, "slightly modified" meaning that only half the original members were present. It was me and Robby tonight, and I must say it was the most productive discussion I've had about my story... ever, thank you. And he even liked the dorky name "Kettle Society," asking for a kettle time (deadline) when I had to leave. Sometimes I forget what a riot he can be. He was telling me about the time in high school when he was fiddling with a mechanical pencil in math class, simply out of boredom, and managed to stick it in his eyeball. Only Robby. I responded with the story of middle school English, back when gel pens were the shiz and I had one in every color imaginable. I had taken one apart or was chewing on the end or something, and accidentally flicked the end away from myself. Well apparently I'd chewed the end open because suddenly the girl in front of me was covered in metallic blue ink. And she was wearing white. And she would later become valedictorian, which we all predicted years before it happened and which rendered her very intimidating. I don't think she really said anything about it. But I felt her wrath simmering beneath the surface. Her icy calm demeanor said it all.
All right, enough reminiscing. This weekend Paul and I went to New York and it was awesome! Even though I complained about my feet almost the entire time (sorry, Paulface). So here's what went down.
First we ate dinner at this famous deli that Paul's dad recommended - very persuasively, with a gift of $100 cash. The place had a lot of character! I couldn't believe the size of the sammiches they served, but anyway none of the meats sounded remotely appetizing, which tends to happen when you don't eat something for a long time. So I got eggs. I felt like a spoilsport but oh well. They seated an author at the table beside us and we ended up talking a little. I seem to meet a lot of nonfiction writers. I don't know how they do it. They have to get things right! Making up a world is so much better because you can never be wrong! But to each her own, I say.
Then the show. Ohmygosh the show. Eh, only one of the three openers was actually any good, but Mae blew me away. The videos showed a lot more thought than the last batch. The last two were even in 3D. Glasses were free if you bought their EP, which of course I did. It was only available on this tour and smelled amazing. What's not to love? They had us activate the ocean scent during the song "The Ocean." Yummy. They played a few songs I hadn't seen live before, like my favorites "Breakdown" and "Anything."
The Blender Theater is a fantastic venue, for the record. Great setup, with stadium seating at the back if you don't care about being up close and personal/are too lame to dance. Little bars on either side, serving too-small drinks for too-high prices (gotta love New York). And extraordinary lighting, particularly when they turned on the fog.
And now a word of advice: do not walk around the city in Chucks that are a size too small, and then proceed to try and dance at a show, and THEN try to walk back to your hotel. It really. Effing. Hurts.
Saturday we went to the Metropolitan museum of art. On the way we encountered a street market just outside the hotel, where I got crepes for breakfast (yes, plural, because they were so dang good) and Paul got various forms of heart attacks (on a bun, on a stick).
The museum was enormous. No one could ever appreciate all that art in one day. But we came close, I'll say that, and we both got some good ideas for our own projects from the things we saw.
That night we went to dinner with Paul's godmother, Mia, who is an amazing woman - very bubbly, talkative, and all around a positive presence, which you wouldn't expect from a New Yorker. It was funny because the way she talked and looked, I kept almost thinking she was Paul's sister. She took us to an Italian eatery called Otto. It was a lively place and the food was pretty yummy, but sooo filling. When we were done she insisted on paying for us. What a sweetheart =)
We were going to visit Times Square again - we'd walked through briefly the first night, spending a lot of time gaping at the three or four stories of TOYS R US (all in caps because the thing was a monstrosity, complete with a ferris wheel that had character themed cars and colored lights easily visible from the sidewalk). But then we realized how beat we both were and decided to sleep instead. I only regret not getting the chance to drag Paul onto that ferris wheel... XD JUST KIDDING, I WOULDN'T MAKE YOU GO ON IT IF YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT THE HEIGHT. But if you were worried about looking retarded I'd prolly just kick you in the shins until you did what I told you. ^_^
Sunday was basically just a travel day. Ugh, the stiffness. All I wanted was a good Pilates class after five hours in the same little seat with my oversized backpack taking up all the foot space.
I would have liked to experience New York for a little longer than a weekend. It's dull coming home after a teaser of a break like this, and all the things that drive me crazy, like the dog going bonkers every 7.2 minutes, seem so much worse. It was nice being able to walk anywhere we cared to go, and having food accessible all the time (albeit preposterously expensive food), and even lots of vegetarian places to try (not that Paul was into that). Even if you've got nothing to do you could always just go stare at Times Square. And it's so easy to find your way around since the streets are numbered. But cities are loud and smelly and I don't trust anyone there, so I wouldn't like to live in a city. It's just nice to visit for a little while. Next time, we're bringing the crew, taking a cheaper bus, and coming back in the middle of the night to escape evil hotel fees. Who's in?