HAPPY AWESOMENESS TO YOU ALL.
Let’s roll back to earlier-this-week and begin the ramble and see what comes out, ok? I have no tolerance for coherence on a Sunday night. Wednesday night after dining on Kaye’s superawesome calzones, knitting robots (I’m on #4, lest you think I’m slacking, but the assembly can only be done in small portions because it messes with my neck injury a LOT), and surviving the insidious assaults of Lilypants, I came home and was peering at a magazine my mom picked up at the airport for me. It’s Time’s 100 Must-See Destinations, which as you know is basically my version of porn. So I’m paging through and get to the centerfoldlike spread about Prague, showing the Charles Bridge with the castle in the background, and instantly I find myself crying. And not just crying, but bawling. It’s not sad crying. It’s like a mix of happiness and nostalgia and excitement. My heart always aches a little when I think of places I’ve been. I cried the first time I saw the Pacific Ocean. I cried when we landed in Hungary. I cried when I saw Haleakala. I cry when I look at Google Satellite and zoom in on places I’ve stood, like Old Town Square in Prague or the Santa Monica Pier or the Mojave Desert or tiny Rose Island in the Bahamas. I wish I knew what that was about. Obviously, travel is hugely emotional for me. But it’s not escapism; I miss the rest of my life terribly when I’m gone, and I want to share things with people back home. It’s just this insatiable urge to experience everything, because it’s all so amazing. I want to absorb it all, and just seeing photos isn’t enough. I have to be there. Anyway, enough psychology for today, because I suspect it’s only fascinating to me. Thursday, I discovered that my Mini has boarded his cruise ship from Oxford and is sailing his way to me!!! This means I have to sell Chico, or trade him in. I think I am going to die. It’s hard to actively go about the selling of your car when you’re in massive denial about having to do so. Thursday night, Wendy and I dipped the ganacheballs Jane made and produced ourselves some more truffles. We are honestly the most crude and foulmouthed people who have ever been so completely devoted to fundraising for a good cause. I’m pretty sure this is the source of our awesomeness, actually. So, Friday night, we took our truffles and pink wristbands over to Block E, and set up at the table they’d so graciously provided us in the skyway. We didn’t make anywhere near what we did at IDS, but it was totally worth it anyway. The first three women who came to the table told us they were all survivors. Talking to people like that really drives home why we do things like this. Then we met the crazy man with the Coke bottle on his head, who was really amusing doing tricks for my phone-camera until he told me his theory regarding terminal illness and overpopulation, at which point it was definitely time for him to go, because you can only do that fake patronizing laugh at clearly-insane people so long before you have to shiv them. We were also approached by two gentlemen connected with the Hooters that’s going in in that complex, and the result of that long discussion is that 1) they want to give us raffle prizes for the bowling event, and 2) they could probably help us out with fundraisers in the future. No matter what my feelings towards that establishment, it’s a pretty perfect place to hold a boob-related fundraiser. It’s also really awesome to meet people so enthusiastic about helping out. We had a fortuitious visit from Ben, aka The Unborn Fetus, who doesn’t seem to know he’s a celebrity. We also met a guy who works with an organization called Venture, which seems pretty amazing. He was happy to donate, because he said he believes that stuff comes around, and I agree: go take a look at their projects, because they do good work. We were pestered for way too long by a reporter from the Star-Tribune, who was questioning people about the shooting that had occurred there last weekend (for which I have a good alibi: I was on a plane to Our Nation’s Capitol). He’d ask us questions and then completely ignore us as we answered. I considered pulling out the shiv for him, too, but I restrained myself in the name of charity. Afterwards, Stephanie and Kaye magically appeared and we took the party to Luce, of course. We may possibly have been a little noisy there, but Luce never, ever minds, and that’s why we love it. Then we went to visit Joe and play DDR until we couldn’t stand up anymore, and Sean appeared, and the whole team was there together, and life was beautiful, as ever. Note to everyone: NO MORE GHETTO PUNCH. The weather this weekend was gorgeous; we walked almost 8 miles on Saturday, and I managed to get myself a sunburn unexpectedly, which has been driving me crazy the rest of the weekend. I did ridiculous amounts of spring-cleaning and erranding and taking-bags-of-donations-to-ARC. I went out to take Chico to the fancy car-wash so I could prepare him for, well, you know. I made the rest of the truffles and we are currently selling them, so email me if you’d like some, although I may be out of them already by tomorrow. Today we went to see the second-to-last Swarm game at Xcel, and the three of us apparently became huge lacrosse fans in the last few minutes of the game; it’s really a good stand-in when you’re hockeyless. It’s also violent, so there’s that. AWESOME. And now I’m rushing so I can sleep, but I have one last thing to tell you about! I put together the (ugly but informative) list of the raffle prizes we have so far for Bowling for the Cure on April 22, and we are pre-selling tickets. I’ve sold 45 of them already today! They’re $1 apiece, or 15 for $10; if you wish to purchase them and don’t live nearby or are too lazy to stop over, you can Paypal team.boobylicious@gmail.com and I’ll write them up and put them in the raffle-bucket for you. You don’t have to be at the event to win; we’ll be doing the drawing afterwards. I’m REALLY REALLY excited about the fact that Park Tavern just donated two bowling parties for up to 60 people, at a value of $850 apiece. That’s incredible, dudes. OK, I’m off to bed, and it’s time for you to read all about the fabulous prizes you could win at BOWLING-FOR-BOOBS. Good night! Jenni