~ Friday Night Paparazzi ~
With the acquisition of my camera, I have become a pesky paparazzi. The other day, I was snapping photos of my dog Chancy, despite his pleas, as evidenced by his low-positioned ears, to stop. I haven't had much spare time to devote to blathering about my adventures. It seems that I prefer to spend my time having the adventures rather than writing about them. Below are some brief descriptions of things that I have done which involved the taking of pictures. Please find the corresponding flickr sets linked to the photos. Besides these three items, which are really not all that fascinating, I have been reading a lot of old science fiction short stories, have refound my desire to knit (currently, am knitting a pair of schwanky arm warmers), and have been doing a lot of wandering around enjoying being alive.
Several weekends ago, I went miniature golfing with Sara, Kelly, and Josh. It was on one of those weekends, actually a Monday, which was a holiday and all of the establishments which I normally hang out at were closed. Rather than sitting around being bored off my rocker, I joined the mini golfing fun. Hoot hoot! We went out to Boondocks which I had never been to before, and probably will never again. It was pretty much what I had expected, all these years of driving by the place adjacent to the freeway....tons and tons of suburban families with way too many children running amuck. Near the end of our first round of 18-holes, we skipped the 18th hole and had a second round for free. Just us sticking it to the man, you know. On our illegitimate round of 18 holes, we were accosted by a man who takes the sport of miniature golfing way too seriously, who commanded us to putt-putt at a faster rate. Since I am such a spong and absorb everything around me, this affected me greatly and pretty much ruined my ability to have fun. I spent the duration of the minigolfing experience fantasizing about actually verballizing my retort to his assholishness.
Then there was the night of my birthday, a few weeks ago, when I gathered with some friends, a sibling, and our lovers for an exchange of tasteful greeting cards and alcoholic beverages. You know that the evening was quality based upon the lengthy conversation about Star Trek: the Next Generation that we all participated in with an excess of passion. It's funny when you think that you're a crazed trekkie and then you discover a friend and sibling who beats your trekkienitude 10:1. People were buying me drinks left and right and I got drunketty-drunk. Ahh...duck farts.
Last night, I went to see the film Nacho Libre at a locally owned theater. I left before it was over due to the eighteen pre-teen boys sitting directly behind me having all kinds of conversations while kicking the back of my seat. Because of them, I was unable to even begin to imerse myself into the film, however, I was able to determine that the film was not the greatest cup of tea. I mean, I laughed at the very first fart joke, but the four others I didn't find so funny. Then there was the smearing poo across a character's face that kinda grossed me out. Then there was the fact that an hour and a half into the film, I was still wondering when the plot was going to develop. Afterwards, Josh and I decided to wander around town and play paparazzi. We wandered into some shops, walked down by the river, pretended to be celebrities who didn't want their photos taken, and then rode the elevator to the top of a parking garage to watch the sun set. Afterwards, we went to the Neurolux and intoxicated ourselves with friends Laura, Alisha, Devlyn, and Kyle. I sat with the ladies and we discussed pregnancy and single motherhood, while Josh sat with his partner in male gender and had all kinds of philosophical discussions.
