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.
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.
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.
That's the day I do mostly everything in my life. There's something about a Wednesday. I spent the better part of this day with one of my favorite people from college. She has red hair just like Jenny and I think I must be attract friendships with red heads. Still she has a blonde aura about her. She's a blondie at heart.
The most exciting part of Urban Outfitters was their vinyl collection. The only place to go when you want all of the days hit records on vinyls. Beyonce's self titled set was there for fifty dollars, the exclusive Lana Del Rey Ultraviolence was there. The cover sported a sexy knee and the vinyls were translucent. Still. Not thirty five dollar cool. Taylor Swift's 1989 was on the wall, obscure indie bands had their place in between Ed Sheeran's X and the Muse's latest release Drones.
The most surprising find was this little antique store. The antiques for the most part were inconsequential. There was a vinyl selection. Three dollars each and in among the pile was Olivia Newton-John's Have You Never Been Mellow and Linda Ronstadts iconic Simple Dreams.
They were perfect for my burgeoning record collection that includes Ricky Nelson, Elvis Presley, and The Sound of Music soundtrack. All of which were part of one of my not so recent videos “The Hills Are Alive With The Sound Of... Shut Up I'm Trying To Talk Here.”
It was while traipsing down a tree covered boulevard that we discovered a quaint little coffee shop that could only be found in a city. It was cavernous. Expansive. Not surprisingly empty considering it was 3:00. We sat down gazed at the board. Finally settled on what to get. Blondie got a Mocha Frappucino (?) and I got a wonderful iced grean tea latte. It was perfect.
I finally got home. I'd made the decision to let my mother in on these shoes. I've had them for a while now. It just wasn't something I've shared with her. They are certainly my most conservative. And, I said to myself today is the day. I'd prepped her on the fact that I'd wanted to be taller then Boomer.
I showed them to her and she called me a “cross dresser” (this was following an encounter where I had on a shirt with a peter pan collar). Needless to say I believe I'm going to succeed in being the family disappointment one more year in row. So, that's exciting. I think I'm even running unopposed.
Now the actual trivia was questionable. Team Name: 50 States of Beyonce. We didn't win best team name surprise of all surprises. We also got dead last place. Not kind of last place. We hardcore lost. It was really great. We left our team name off of one of the ballots, because we were doing so bad. I'm so ashamed that Beyonce had to be linked to our ineptitude.
Usually after a night on the town. We go to Walgreens. However, we decided to live on the wild side and go to Target. I think the Mayor bought starbursts?
It was really productive. A solid night.
I popped some tags in true Macklemore fashion two weeks ago.
Both Miss Sara Bellum and The Mayor came back for the weekend. I hadn't seen them, since a few days before college started back in August. It had been a while. They were back in town, so they could see their high school's new play. They told me it was good. I didn't get to see it with them. I had to go to work. I would have been free all day Saturday, but my general manager decided that we are no longer allowed to ask off from work, because we were a 'abusing' the privilege.
Forgive me for telling you when I can't work.
We decided that we were going to fly by our whims in our activities that day. Of course I had some thoughts in mind. We could go see Sex Tape, especially now that it was at the cheap theater. I could always borrow what Rosencrantz and I always do, and go get cupcakes at this cute like shop that's downtownish.
The twins had their own plans. We were going to the thrift shop in search of flannels, sweaters, and jean shorts. Goodwill was stop number one. It was an experience. I never shop at places like this. It is so much fun, though. Go with a friend and laugh and cry at these clothes. That is what we did.
I was actually rather successful in my shopping. I got these oversized sweaters that don't fit me at all. The kind of thing I would never buy for retail, but at three dollars you're like why not. They're fantastic. I'm going to look so hipster this winter. Be prepared world. Tight jeans a sweater will be my wardrobe.
We of course tried on things we had no intention of ever buying. I tried on this great pimp jacket with some faux fur. Although, I might have actually bought it if it fit me. Just so I could have it. Sarabellum and I posed in it. Me as da pimp and her as da side hoe. We looked really sexy, just to let you know.
After that we finished it up at the Salvation Army. That was a productive event for me. I found another sweater. It was this mint, aqua color and I tried it on. Oh, honey boo-boo child. It was like a baggy crop top. I did not even walk out of the dressing room. It was really bad.
The only clothing item I bought was this hounds tooth jacket. The label says Christian Dior. I mean anything's possible. I love this jacket. It has shoulder pads and everything. It's terrible and great. People are either going to say I have great style or wonder what the fuck I'm wearing to school every day.
The check out process was definitely the most fun. We watched this woman get fired in front of our eyes. We are in line. And, there's this older woman with this gray wispy hair tied up in a bun, a large cross around her neck. Her name is Lydia.
It was a wonderful day. I haven't spent time with people outside of school and work since school started. I have been meaning to see Rosencrantz, but it just hasn't happened. Sacajawea has been rushing and doing sorority things and I can't keep up with that. Really, the only person I've been spending time with is Thunder and that's because we drive to school together. And, we're in the same program in school.
It was so great to see people. And, spend time with old friends. My Barbie sweatshirt also came in that day. Really, other then the nightmare that was work, it was great. Although, Miss Sara Bellum and the Mayor told me that they had actually seen my Barbie sweatshirt in Forever 21. Was it in my local Forever 21. No. Let's also talk about how the day after I ordered it they did a free shipping promotion. Sometimes the world is out to get you, and I'm really not here for it. It's just like calm down world. Go to Goodwill and get you some Louboutins.
Buy online at Forever 21
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.