04.02.2002 - 9:50 a.m.
Home again home again jiggety jog - finally back from a weekend
at the in-laws. MAN, that's a bitch of a drive. It's got about,
I don't know, a BILLION hours of boring I-5 scenery heading south,
then a vaguely more interesting but equally long stretch towards
the coast. We get somehow giddy with the tediousness of it, like
it's some form of lame nitrous oxide. A couple of actual excerpts
from the trip:
The scene: Passing by a
reeking paper mill.
Hours into the drive: 4.5.
Boredom stage: Deranged Singing
JB: (in horrible, putrid
singing voice): WELLL it's sad we can't hear… us workers
at the mill, it's real LOUD in heeere….
Me: Oh no. Oh god. Don't. Just stop.
JB: I said, it's all stanky, at the MILLLL.
Me: Please, stop the torment...your voice is literally destroying
my internal organs.
JB: You want stankum, you got your FILL!
Me: I will call 911. Seriously. This is, like, unreal. Your singing
should be used as a national weapon or something.
JB: There's only MENNNN at the stinkmill, it's so NIIIIIICE!!!!!
Me: I am getting a divorce when we get home.
JB: (insanely loud nasal honking tone) OHHHH IT'S A GAY MAN'S
The scene: Bland stretch
Hours into the drive: 6
Boredom stage: Meandering Otherworldly Conversation
Me: You know what are cute?
Me: Yeah, burros. All furry like.
Me: I bet you don't even know what a burro is.
JB: Hell if I don't.
Me: You probably think it's a horse or something.
JB: What? Bullshit. Exactly how many burros have you seen?
Me: I would have to say….at least 37.
JB: That's a bunch of crap. You've probably seen like 2.
Me: No way.
JB: Burros are mules.
Me: "Burros are mules"? Allrighty Dr. Doolittle.
Mules are the product of horses and donkeys, and burros are something
JB: Oooh, something different. If mules came from horses and
donkeys, then what made a burro?
Me: What do you mean, what MADE a burro? Do you think all animals
came from the combo of 2 other animals? Here's you: "Hi
I'm JB and I'm a dorkopotamus and I think horses came from a
tiger porking a lobster.'
JB: You know very well the lobster would have to pork the tiger,
not the other way around.
Me: But how would they…? I mean, they would need like props
JB: ANYWAY. Burros are just wild mules.
JB: Yeah, like Wild On E, but with more hot burro action.
Me: I am not on board with this. Nor with the weird-disparate-animals-porking-to-make-new-animals-theory.
JB: Well, just remember you have to pork UP. You can't pork down.
Then it's physically impossible to give birth.
Me: Oh, THAT'S the implausible part.
JB: For instance…skunk. Skunk equals bobcat and…
JB: No. DUH.
Me: Well, a platypus is obviously a beaver and -
JB: - an otter?
Me: What? You are brain damaged, dude. A DUCK. A beaver and a
duck. It's OBVIOUS.
JB: Ohh. Yeah, that makes sense.
(contemplative silence ensues for several miles)
We stayed Friday night
with a couple of friends in Eugene, who produced a massive sushi
feast for us. They had told us ahead of time that they had been
'experimenting' with homeade sushi - to which my internal response
was 'Oh goody! We can all projectile vomit together when the
salmonella kicks in! What a fun bonding activity!', but they
used smoked fish and the like. We all hung out in their hot tub
afterwards and sipped beers - it was a very pleasant night indeed.
Oh, one funny thing that
happened was that when we all dried off and headed back inside
I was right in front of our friend Keith - and suddenly, without
any warning, I received an enormous whack on my butt. SWOT! I
had a split second to ponder his motives (is he hitting on
me? um, or just hitting me?) before whirling around to observe
his look of sheer horror.
"Oh god! I thought
you were Emily!" he choked. I wish I were the sort that
could really draw something like that out, make him think I was
really freaked or whatever, but my poker face is shit so I just
cracked up. The rest of the night I tormented him by announcing
whenever I walked somewhere. "Ohhh Keeeith…I'm going
to go to the kitchen now….just letting you know it's MY
butt going by!"
Saturday and Sunday we
hung out with JB's family. It was a good time. His dad just
bought a Harley, I can't remember what kind but it's LOUD and
BIG and also did I mention LOUD? I went for a short ride around
the block and felt all Biker Babe, except I had a too-big helmet
on and no leather chaps (mmm…chaps).
There's one thing that
really sucks about staying with the in-laws. One thing that chaps
my hide above all else (ooh, there's that chaps word again).
I mean, I have lots of pet peeves - like people who consistently
use a possessive apostrophe in a plural noun: 'and then I ate
some apple's' - but this transcends even that. JB's parents only
buy 1-PLY TOILET PAPER.
You think this is no big
deal? Whatever. Try blowing your nose on 1-ply. It's disgusting.
You have to strategically fold it over like 100 times to be certain
you won't blast right through it. And as for its main purpose
- well, let's just say it isn't nearly as comfortable or productive
as it should be.
Then driving driving more
driving to get back home yesterday, where the cat greeted us
with joy and tears streamed down our faces from the contributions she had determinedly been making
to her litter all weekend.
Sundry's Super Mega Cool Message
go back :::
03.29.2002 - Let's
all just take a moment and wallow in jealous hatred.
03.27.2002 - It
was all very Punk and Totally Rebellious. Except that it sucked
03.26.2002 - The
thing about eating no carbs is that every trip to the kitchen
is a mini tragedy.
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004