Hey! Don’t mind the fake meat on my keyboard. I’m eating dinner.
I have a LOT of recent photos. The fun part is that they’re all over the damn place. You already saw the phone-photos from the fair, so here are the real ones: my favorite crop art everklan sheep
(I took a photo of these last year, too, but they fascinate me.)
i love the bizarre baking competitions
giant corn!
i want these wheels on chico
pile o’ babies
you know you want to ride slim shady
bumpercars
all these clowns are now dead.
i wish i knew what this was about, but then i don’t. I included three of my fair photos in this photo contest, too. I’m pretty happy with the duck one. Friday night, I went to a birthday party. The moment I remember most is when I walked into the bathroom and realized I was not only talking to myself, but gesticulating. I mean, I usually gesticulate, it’s just that generally it involves at least one other person. Saturday morning, I went for my shiatsu massage. I kept dozing off, starting to dream, then wondering if she knew I was dozing off. I wanted to be awake enough to enjoy my massage, but not as awake as I was the last time with boner-guy, because that was not relaxing in the least, even if the massage was awesome. We took some little kids we found hanging around out for a walk at the lake. They’re so damn cute it kills me. I’ve found that babies are nice to borrow sometimes, but while I was carrying 400-lb baby Wyatt around and they were asking, “Doesn’t he make you want to have a baby?” I had to say no. I mean, Levi was picking things up off the ground and playing with them; they could’ve been left there by a crack whore with leprosy, for all we knew. I was convinced Wyatt was going to fall down and crack his skull open on anything not covered in down-filled padding, which was pretty much everything within sight. Nate dropped his mini-muffin on the path, then picked it up and continued eating. I didn’t quite have a panic attack, but seriously considered it as an option. Those kids are way cute, though. Here are some photos! wyatt, levi, nate and levi, more wyatt, and even more wyatt! Since we were going to Jens and Anne’s wedding on Sunday, Bertine and I went for eyebrow-waxing and the manicure/pedicure special at the East Lake Street institution, DO ME NAILS. Hahaha. I feared all this girly crap would severely damage my hardcore reputation, and I think was right. Although I still stand by my theory that if you were to get a single acrylic nail on your thumb, painted black with the outline of the mudflap girl on it, and you used it to gouge out someone’s eyeball, you’d be hardcore. Don’t worry, I didn’t do that. Saturday night, we went to Luce. I know that may surprise you. We may perhaps have gotten a little more raucous than usual. Afterward, we wandered down to Gameworks at that stupidass Block E horror that I’ve been spending too much time in lately (the movie theatres aren’t even that good). Gameworks is adults-only after 9pm, which rocks. We shot zombies and Bertine and Wendy played a lot of Skeeball, but mostly I was there for Dance Dance Revolution. If I had Dance Dance Revolution in my house, I’d never have to go to the Y again. I usually lift at home, anyway. Also, I’d probably become a recluse. Hey, Jenni, want to go out tonight? No way, dude! DDR! Sunday morning, we were up way too early for brunchfast, because we had to go to the farmer’s market to buy armfuls of flowers and take them to the wedding locale. While standing in the parking lot under the interstate, I had a moment, which I will try to explain at the risk of sounding like someone you wished you didn’t know. I looked up and realized I was standing under the gap between the elevated east-and-westbound lanes. Between the two, I saw cloudless blue sky and a row of gigantic white streetlamps at perfect intervals. It was something about the rumble of the traffic and the perfect, orderly serenity of that space between; I started to reach for my camera to take a photo, but knew it would be pointless. It couldn’t be captured or really even explained. It made me so happy I wanted to cry. I think that’s why I’m taking so many photos and writing so much now. It’s because I see things again. Not in that ‘voices in my head’ way, either, because I know sometimes you worry. For so long, I just stopped noticing, or caring, or wishing to create or contribute. I thought that was gone forever, but it’s back. Therefore, I want a better digital camera. Ha. The wedding was AWESOME. A cute boy picked me up and drove me there in a golf cart. I got to see the legendary Paul Holmboe in a tux. I sat with Emily on the bride’s side and watched all the Norwegians burn in the sun. It was the perfect day for an outdoor wedding. Serinia had her jump boots from the army and knee-high pink socks on under her bridesmaid’s dress. Emily paid a dollar to dance with Jens; Bertine paid five to dance with Anne. I couldn’t dance with Jens because it felt way too dirty, and not in a good way. I caught the bouquet! I’m so not getting married, suckers. I believe I slow-danced with Bertine, which caused some difficulty because we were both wearing bedroom slippers, and it took us a while to figure out who was leading. The spinning and dipping thing is not a great idea when drunk. The music sucked (except for the requested Intergalactic Planetary and the obligatory Chicken Dance), but that didn’t stop us from shaking our collective bootay. Someone I didn’t want to get way too close got WAY too close to me, and I had to run away. The pastor danced with us for a long time, which I admit made me a little nervous. Eric, the best man, was holding drinking contests with himself while wearing his bowtie on his head. The straps on Bertine’s dress broke and her boobs kept threatening to make an appearance. There was a girl at our table wearing a Rainbow Brite hoodie, and I never quite figured out who she was. I got handed a phone and ended up talking to someone I hadn’t spoken to in years, which was trippy. It’d be kinda cool to have a bizarre reunion sometime, actually. Anyway! Here are a few more drunken phone pictures from the wedding aftermath. Speaking of aftermath, we had the really bright idea of going to Luce afterwards. We were an interesting crowd stumbling into the lobby, as I could tell from the look on Josh’s face. Eric in a rumpled tux, Bertine in a black party dress with pink polka-dots, straps falling down, wearing bright red slippers, Serinia in a bridesmaid’s dress with army boots, and me, well. In a skirt. That’s something. Holding up five fingers, I told him there would be four of us dining. This morning, I really didn’t feel so well, even though I went to bed at 10. I came home an hour early and took a nap. Now it’s 8pm and I’m awaiting my walk-date. One should always have a walk-date when walking in the dark, even if one does know how to break an arm in two moves or less. I didn’t get anything done that I said I wanted to do this weekend, like the creamedpeas episode, because I wasn’t home. I’ll work on that, and also doing my dishes. Eek. Last but nowhere near least, Feliz Cumpleaños to Señor Jason Patrikios!! Gooooooodnight now, muchachos. See you soonly.
Jenni P.S. Does anyone else speed up when they see those ‘YOUR SPEED IS:’ signs? I’m all ’95! SCORE!’ Please tell me I’m not alone in this.