It was an eventful span of three days for me.
I hurt my neck. I woke up and I was in so much pain. I'm guessing it was a result of all my headbanging to Avril Lavigne, but no one knows for sure. Still, my mother's car was broken, so she wanted to hang out and who better to drive her around then her favorite live in child?
We went to this coffee shop downtown. It was very good and I even parallel parked on a busy street. I'm amazing. My neck was not feeling my usual exorcist mentality, but still I persevered and took that parking spot like the blonde bitch I am.
Neck Pains & Blackouts
Three (four? six?) days later I ran my car battery down at work. Now I know how to jump a car, I have run my battery down many times before. I even had the assistance of Sacajawea. You know your best friends when someone willingly get's their extensions wet to help you jumpstart your car. It was thundering and dark outside, so we may have required the assistance of everyone's favorite country boy, but besides that we are strong independent individuals. Basically.
Road Trip! (Part Two)
This morning I was getting dressed for the day and I couldn't figure out why I have four more outfits for the next two days. I also have five pairs of shoes for a four day trip, but not even that merciless shower head could beat the answer into me.
In other news I sleep deprived myself just enough that I wasn't kept up by the air conditioning unit. Ready for today.
We gave up and settled on our next stop. The Outlet Mall. We got there at 9:30. It didn't open until 10:00. Our options were clear. Find somewhere else to spend our time. Google did not fail us this time. We settled on a coffee shop in St. Charles. It had Picasso in the title. It seemed quaint. I was the only one who got coffee. It was called Black Forrest and was supposed to taste of cherry's. It served it's purpose about as well as Boomer likes modern art (he's not a fan).
We actually bought something. Usually boutique shopping involves a lot of browsing. We did that. But, this store was within three college students price ranges. The twins bought two hand towels. One for their mother and the other for their brother's fiancee. Miss Sara Bellum splurged and bought a good luck token for her dorm room.
A gallery was opened down the street. The artwork was reasonably priced if you weren't in a dorm room with cinder block walls. There was shoe shop named Gene's that catered to visiting Floridians. Bars and restaurants dotted the street. A club was in one of the buildings. If only we were twenty one.
I never would have thought to stop in St. Charles. Or even thought of it as a destination choice, but it's something I wish I'd been able to see more of. It was picturesque. You could spend a solid day exploring it or trying to get off the roundabout. Which, ever came first.
We were not as successful clothes wise as we might have hoped. We found one thing at Burlington Coat Factory. A pair of shorts for the sexy Sara Bellum. Rainbow was useless. Surprisingly it was Charlotte Russe that we did well. I got two scarves for two dollars each. I couldn't help myself. The twins tried on clothes. Bought clothes. So many I can't remember. Most of my time was spent trying on Boho hats and twerking to Britney Spear's “Pretty Girls” with what little ass I have.
Buy "Pretty Girls"
In a true spot of sophistication. We got takeout from Panda Express and ate our food in the sculpture park under the shade of a beautiful trade. I was in my four inch wedges and I had little idea that the pathways were gravel and so much was off road. The map I have spread out makes little more sense now then it did at the park. We planned on walking one of the three trails. Either the ten minute Whitaker Woods Trail or the twenty five minute Central Pathway. We did a little of all trails and marveled at all the work.
There was a dog house nicer then my room. Portraits by Maude Earl. A British painter famous for her work on dogs. The most reading intensive part of the exhibit revolved around service dogs. It's hard not to be amazed at how capable these animals are.
It had portraits by Liat Yossifor that dealt with the aesthetic of cave painting and the intuitive act of finger painting. Her works were mostly solid white with different textures and only limited use of primary color. One of the works on display was entitled Yellow II.
They were also doing an entire demonstration called the Sanatorium. We were only able to participate in one of the parts available. It was interactive and was supposed to gauge ways to help people achieve group therapy. We wrote down our darkest secrets tied it up with twine and read one of the previous respondents answer.
Mine discussed how lonely they felt even among people they were close to. The curator explained that was normal. It's disturbing how commonplace such an emotion can be.
The other two artists on display were Richard Tuttle and Fred Sandback. I would argue that there were works were minimalist. I would even argue that art might be a strong word for what they were doing.
God, I sound just like Boomer.
Last night at America's Best Value Inn.
My ear buds and I are listening to The 1975. The album not their new song “Medicine”. Found out that Miss Sara Bellum doesn't like them. Like truly doesn't like them. Strongly hates. It surprised me.
Our dinner consisted of going out scandalously clad. I was scantily covered. The Mayor didn't change. Miss Sara Bellum did. She informed me I looked like a cute lesbian from behind. I asked her if she would date me and she told there couldn't be two lipsticks in the relationship.
We had planned on going to Bailey's Chocolate Bar for dessert. We couldn't find it. @ Google get your life. Instead we drove around downtown St. Louis. This was our first time downtown. We'd avoided it the entire trip just to find out that it's mainly banks and Hard Rock Cafe with an expensive mall. We almost ran over the same man twice, while he was trying to cross the street. There comes a point when it's not all my fault.
In a spat of going hard or going home without google we ended up on the freeway. Picture Dionne in Clueless. That was me.
Our night ended with an intense game of Parcheesi. Nothing like a dice version of Sorry to make you want to punch a best friend in the face. At some point we reverted back to Zero. A trivia based question game that was less competitive with us playing. “Name one of the six states in Australia”. Answer that none of us know this answer.
That's Americans for you.
My music has switched to Lana Del Rey and 11:57 AM seems a good time to end today. Wrapped up in a heather pink infinity loop scarf...
Driving for multiple hours on end has not left me exhausted. Currently I have two infinity loop scarfs wrapped around my throat and I'm trying not fall asleep. Our trip has finally come to a close.
We got dressed in our floral attire. We packed up and cleaned up. We were ready to check out of our hotel. We did that and we made our way to the St. Louis Botanical Gardens. They were amazing.
His bachelor home was amazing. Goals stamped on a house. It turned out he was a writer. For a moment we thought we'd heard of him. We mistakenly mixed his last name with that of British playwright George Bernard Shaw. Similiar but not close.
The most fascinating thing about Henry Shaw was that the died a bachelor. He never married. He never had children. What an interesting thing for a wealthy bachelor. It makes one wonder what he did with his spare time.
Multiple signs informed us that we were not allowed to wade in the lake. I wanted to ask who would do that. Then, I realized if there was a sign that meant someone had done it. Much like the “don't feed the red fox” sign. There must be a story behind that.
This church had me reconsidering my stance on the justice of the peace. I wanted to walk down the aisle with 2,500 of my closest friends while the organ plays and Andre Boccelli sings to me in Italian. I'm afraid I was scantily clad for such a religious place.
There happened to be a tour going on. It was fascinating. The man was much older. He was probably more then disturbed by me. I thought he was funny. He gave quite an enjoyable tour. He pointed out so much of the religious imagery I never would have caught. How the three domes represented the son, the ghost, and the holy spirit. More amazingly how there wasn't a single drop of paint in the church.
We drove in silence. We listened to Katy Perry's One of the Boys. Only the fourth time I've listend to that album all the way through. I forgot how offensive “I Kissed A Girl” and “Your So Gay” are. They may have shock value, but she comes across as a terrible person.
The trip was a success. Our friendship is intact. And, sitting here typing this at 10:55 pm is a far improvement over being at work. The only thing I missed was the dog and he's right here.
Road Trip! (Part One)
I'm packed. I'm showered. My hair has been done up and I would even argue that I'm well rested. In twenty minutes I'm about to leave to pick up the twins and we're going to start our road trip. God help us all.
I found the exhibit to be fascinating. I can't deny that I'm actually obsessed with his love affair with wife Julia (Julie?). It was certainly more entertaining then I expected.
In other news. We checked into our hotel to find out that protests are taking place Downtown.
Our trip marked the one year anniversary of the slaying of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri. The day before our arrival police officers put eighteen year old Tyrone Harris into critical condition after they exchanged gun fire with one another. The day we arrived friendly protestors were arrested outside of the federal courthouse in St. Louis. Later 30 protestors stopped traffic on I-70. Ferguson was everywhere. Our plans were just not feasible.
In true upper middle class fashion we escaped to a suburban retreat and obliviously drank our blackberry caramel frappuccino's while Natalia Kill's crooned over the loudspeaker at the Coffee Cartel that never closes.
My favorite store was 10Denza. I loved practically everything in it. Even the eight hundred dollar leather jacket. As the clerk mentioned we were lucky as they were having a sale. A cute patterned cobalt sweater I would spend thirty on was marked down to sixty. Down from a 108. The entire store was full of cute gay boy chic and enhanced feminine style. I loved it. My bank account not so much. The twins obnoxious friend would have loved it. I'm convinced he had floral patterned polo shirt in that exact shade of coral.
Our dinner was spent at the Kingside Diner. A glamorous and hip reasonably priced getaway across the street from a Guiness Record holding chess piece. It was the largest in the world.
We took an hour break from human interaction with another. Followed it up with a bag of Cheez-It's two rounds of Zero. Miss Sara Bellum won the first round, me the second. Then, we played Blokus and I won. Fumbling through Tinder we casually had Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen on. I realized I was Lindsay Lohan and the twins were her best friend. Miss Sara Bellum flirted with a boy with tattoos. He was a mix between Pearl and Violet Chachki and he had a certain porn star quality about him.
That's what love is built on.
I've been asleep for less then three hours and I've never been more awake in my life. I'm now locked in the bathroom updating my social media. From what I can tell the twins aren't sleeping that much better either.
I have taken the twins virginity.
After breakfast we drove up to Six Flags over St. Louis, which isn't even in the same county. It was a pleasant drive. The line to get in was extensive. It's the last week of school before the native St. Louis children are going back to school. It was a joy.
Miss Sara Bellum's favorite ride was what I will describe as the scrambler. It was frequented by six years old. The three of us barely fit into one car and the ride operator serenaded us with “Let It Go”. It was magical.
As a group we only participated in one more ride. The water themed rapids Thunder River. The twins took part in the carousel. I took part in two more roller coasters. The Mine Train and The Boss. I never did get to go upside down.
Most of our day was spent in the water park. Disappointingly enough there was not a single attractive male. There was one exception of the Under Armour hugging twenty year old. He was gorgeous, although it's always so hard to tell when people have on sunglasses. Gorgeous women abounded. Even without our glasses on we could tell.
We realized very quickly that the three of us would have to deal with the potential loss of our glasses. The only tension we had was when we were deciding where to go, but couldn't see anything. We went down slides. Almost drowned in the artificial tidal waves one of the beach areas produced. It was anything if boring.
Six Flags doesn't disappoint. I hate to admit that there was a special place in my heart for the Lazy River. I could have spent all day there. Just not eight dollars for a tube rental. It was a little steep.
The ride was terrifying. I can't tell you what it was, but I was horribly sad. Our day at Six Flags was over. It was almost as if I was emotionally drained. It was as if Summer was over. The drive back to our hotel was difficult. I've never felt so incomplete. We had on Lana Del Rey. That certainly didn't help anything. I don't know it might be that I haven't cried recently, but I was overwhelmed. I'm still frustratingly saddened.
Miss Sara Bellum ordered a steak frites (delicious), The Mayor got a strawberry Nutella crepe (essentially a bottle of Nutella with carbs), and I got a Veggie Burger. There was ginger root on it. The ranch I dipped my french fries was homemade. God is real and he lives at Rooster.
The follow up and conclusion will be posted next Wednesday.
Tear It Down
Black and I decided to go and it was honestly so exciting. They told us to take anything we wanted from the building. It used to be the arts building on campus. It was a treasure hunt.
Mind you I was doing all of this in my walking shoes. 6 inch blue platform wedges. There my most comfortable shoes and it really wasn't a struggle, but I could tell everyone else was like you are going to die. For some reason there were lockers in this building. It was the oldest building on campus and at some point they decided lockers were necessary.
We also found this ornate green candy dish. It was in one of the lockers for some reason. I don't have any answers for this. I don't think my school has even torn this building down, yet. It's a mess. We ended up finding all of the art in the basement.
All of these spirits are supposed to be in the attic. I don't know why they decided to habitat the same place, but okay. One of the programs I'm in had an annual tradition of telling ghost stories in there for Halloween. I'm sure it was terrifying. I'm just thinking if we tear this building down aren't the spirits going to be in the new building. It's supposed to be finished my junior year and we'll see how well that goes.
The new building is modern and retro and plated with glass and I love it. There was this huge reveal by the President of the new design and I was just like lol one of my teachers showed me these pictures the day you revealed them to the faculty.
I spent the rest of it with the twins, because it was there birthday. And, if you want to know about that, it was the subject of my last Tasty Tuesday.
Link to: Eat A Hamburger
The Nagoya protocol. That's what part two of two is going to be about.
I'm lying to you. I was in the science building on campus, in one of the student lounges, with no good place to plug in my laptop, and I picked up one of the science journals, and there was a very long, comprehensive article on the Nagoya protocol. I never want to talk about it.
Hopefully, there will not be a third part to this two part drama that is my car. I do call him the grandfather, but lately he's been living up to that reputation, and I'm really not here for it.
I was on my way to school. It was Sunday, the day before school started. I was on my way to meeting on campus. I'm just driving along when I'm pushing the gas pedal, and it is not speeding the car up. If anything it is braking the car. I get into a turn lane, and only because God deemed it appropriate did I make it through the light before stalling on a side street right in front of this elementary school.
I do not have a cellphone. I am downtown, with a stalled car unable to call anyone. It is Sunday, all respectable places of business are closed, no one is at the school. It has to be a 100 degrees outside, and I am walking to find someone who will let me borrow their phone. Not to call my mother, but instead to call the person I was meeting at school. She would have to come get me. My mother and I were in a spitting match. It was not okay.
He acquiesces and I go to my meeting. I tell Thunder what happens and she insists that she'll help me. That makes sense. I don't know what I expected her to say. “Sorry, bitch, but I've got places to be. As in with my boyfriend.” Her boyfriend, shows up on campus, and collectively we go out to Auto Zone and buy some oil for the car. Why we thought this would fix the acceleration problem. I don't know, but we were convinced it was a possibility.
I leave the school. Using two main roads home, peeved when I'm stopped at the bottom of a hill and have to accelerate over the top of it. That was fun. I made it with no serious problems, other then it took me forever to cross an intersection.
I get home, tell my father what happened, he tells me it's either the fuel pump or the fuel filter and that I should use mother's car to get to school on Monday. My father is out of state as all of this is happening. I still very peeved with my mother refuse to ask her for it, and calm my nerves by turning up Havana Brown and taking side streets all the way to school.
The question of whether or not I made it on time is still not answered. I checked my school e-mail that morning, getting a new one from my Algebra teacher to bring my textbook to class, but my teacher that moved the class to an entirely different building could not be bothered. Because, I'm already late I don't mention to the history professor, that hey I'm in the wrong class. I decided I will just sit through it.
Thank, God some other poor confused student asked the important question and got us both to the right class. The best part of being so stressed out about driving to school, is that you can't really worry about what your first day of school is. The only thing that stands out to me is that my algebra teacher was too excited, too fast, and if I did not have a working knowledge of how to do Least Common Multiples, I would be failing that class so hard right now.
Oh, she's also decided that were having a “lab”. Woman, this is algebra. What do you mean by “lab”. This isn't biology and I will not be playing with any test tubes in algebra.
The drive home that day, I think was the most fun. This car braked in front of me, and when I tried to regain the speed, I ended up stalling, and I swung the grandfather into the nearest parking lot, which just so happened to be a porn store. Well, actually a toy store, because they specialized in other things. Dildos for everyone.
Once, home, I'm informed by my father that we need to get the fuel filter replaced at Valvoline. I barely made it home that day. I don't know how well he expected that to end. It ended okay. Valvoline doesn't change out fuel filters and they told us to go to Firestone. We go there, we leave the car, and my mother and I go grocery shopping. Although, I did force her to stop at McDonald's first for that $1 large sweet tea. Let me tell you everything. My day was okay.
Then. Father decides to call. I tell him we went to Firestone. He flips his shit. It costs too much money, I tell him I will pay for it. That makes it worse. We have to go back out to bring the car back home. He decided the fuel filter wasn't the problem. My mother and I go back out. I start the car, and we are almost home. I just have to make it through this one light, and I can coast down to our neighborhood.
That was not meant to be. The car stalls in the middle of the intersection. I keep saying that for dramatic effect, but other then the other people in the left hand turn lane, I wasn't really blocking anything. I was in the intersection, but it wasn't stopping through traffic.
The stoplight goes through it's cycle. I have the car turned off the whole time, flashers on, reading my Architectural Digest, just waiting for when the car will make it through the light. It turns green again. I start the car up. I press the gas and it lets me through the light.
Now that my father has heard about all this stalling he was worried enough to hire a mechanic to come out and replace the fuel pump. To the great shock of everyone the mechanic got in a car wreck that day and had to get fifteen stitches in his left arm.I don't know what else could happen. I hope nothing until next year.
That's what Thunder told me. I've inherited her curse as an outgoing senior. The First Semester Car Problem Curse.
Melodrama puncutated with exclamation points.