I've been meaning for days to update this with all the fun I've been having.
Let's begin with the fact that Meg is now a blonde. A brassy, somewhat orange blonde. I intended to bleach my hair and dye it a brilliant purple, but the response to me as a blonde was so great that I chickened out. *Bawwk bawwk* So I'm hovering between platinum roots and carroty tips, earning the nickname "Pumpkin" or "Punkin'-head" from the people at work. Can't complain, it's my first real nickname.
Wayne and I hit up the fireworks in Portsmouth on the third of July; a small video clip of the show is available on my
myspace.
The Fourth was a lovely, sunny day at
Syphilis Beach. Actually, I didn't get there until five-ish, but I got to spend the fourth my leurvely wife, Miss Shauna. Why Syphilis Beach at five o'clock? Why, to see the Dresden Dolls and Panic! at the Disco! Talk about a wet-your-pants good time. Actually, the fun started in line, where the sunny skies turned into roiling blackness and doused everyone with liquid sunshine. People were scurrying off the beach like roaches on a kitchen floor, which made me laugh because A.) They were on the BEACH, which is right next to WATER and they were all wearing bathing suits, yet running from rain, and B.) It's probably the cleanest alot of those folks have been in a long time. We were totally drenched, however it must be said that all the Hipster ladies who came dressed up for Panic! were made Dresden appropriate when the water started streaking their mascara. We looked like a bunch of Amanda Palmer groupies (pardon me while I savor that thought).
Once inside, it was humid and sticky with an overpowering scent of Eau de Pits. Once the opening band, The Hush Sound, started playing, things only got worse as arms were raised and bottles of water were fanatically emptied onto the crowd. But, hey, Mr. Brian Viglione STEPPED ON MY FOOT. The VERY SAME FOOT that was stepped on by the lead singer of Kingpin, as well as by John Reuben, back in my concerting days. I could sell this foot on Ebay to indie junkies and pay for college, if Ebay accepted limbs and if indie kids had any money. Brian didn't say, "excuse me" or anything, and not realizing it was him, I started to yell something along the lines of, "Ow, you stupid jerk!" but then stopped at, "Ow! Y---" when I recognized the hair. (It's pretty, and long, and he wears it in a headband.)
Dresdens brought the house down, and Panic would've been a good show if I were able to appreciate that kind of music. They're good performers, but they attempt Caberet and following a band like the dolls, their stage show with the Emcee and his Harlots (seriously. They call themselves that.) just didn't jive.
While Miss Shauna White and I sat outside post-show, waiting for our menfolk to find us and bring us home, we were entrapped in a conversation with an obviously high young man who believed his wife and her father stole his two young children earlier that afternoon and abandoned him, peniless in the streets of Hampton Beach. He shared our fries from McD's (sidenote: Now that I've eaten fries from a Hampton Beach McDonald's, I no longer dear death. I am obviously invincible.) and practically tackled Miss Shauna when she brought out chicken. His friend eventually came to rescue us, and Miss Shauna and I were rewarded for our babysitting with an unexpected smooch on the cheek from the friend, and a hearty handshake from our fry-sharing gentleman. His last words to us as he walked away was, "If you see my wife, tell her I miss her and my children, and to go f--- herself!"
The fifth was a great day out, Wayne and I hit up two clean beaches and had dinner at the lighthouse. We brought Pongo with us, which I enjoyed immensely because every time a child under twelve saw her, they'd yell, "Look, Mom! A firedog!" Way too cute. Video of this day will be available shortly, there's a nice one of Wayne rolling down a hill in a park.
Last night we were at the Casino again, to see the one and only
Danny Tanner Bob Saget. He is every bit as dirty as they say, and thanks to my love of illegal activity, I will have videos to post once my desktop is reestablished. I didn't get many "great" jokes, just enough to prove I was there, and he was dirty. I don't quite remember, but I believe I have a shot of him saying, "I suck dick for coke." I also have a couple audio files that I took with my camera beneath the table. There's one in particular I'm interested to share called, "Danny Tanner Was Not Gay". Aaaand... yes he was. The line, "Then Uncle Jesse was inside of meeeee" is featured.
Today was Alicia's wedding shower, which was cutesy and fun, pictures will be posted in the near future. Next Sunday will totally suck, be prepared for a (hopefully) decently angry entry. There's no delicate way to put where I'll be, so brace yourself for the dirty, six-letter word:
Nascar.
I want to apologize for that. I didn't want to have to put it, I don't want anything to do with it. In my foolish youth, I made a deal with Wayne that if he were able to get tickets, I would go with him. Now, a year and a half later, his friend at work handed him two free tickets, and I have to make good on my word. Our plan for the day: get up at FOUR in the FUCKING MORNING to be at David's (coworker) house by five, then a two-hour trip to Loudon, NH. Then, from approximately seven in the morning until two, when the race actually begins, we will "tailgate". I'm not certain what that entails, but I have a healthy fear of it. I don't know if I can take beer at seven in the morning, but damned if I won't try. I will not make it through the day without a liquid crutch. The race is expected last until six-ish (FOUR HOURS of watching cars go around a track. FOUR. TRACK.) and then we'll "tailgate" until nine-thirty or so ("To avoid traffic," is the reasoning) and then make the two-hour trip to DJS and the hour trip home. A waste of a day.
I start school tomorrow, by the by. I don't know if they'll let me stay, as I have zero dollars in financial aid, but since it's not my fault, my admissions rep is willing to go to the president of the school to get help for me. I'm making another go at the business program at McIntosh. I realized that I need a degree, doesn't matter if it's a good one because I'm smart enough on my own (can someone pat my back, please? I'm getting tired of doing it for myself) and just because I
have a degree doesn't mean I have to use it. I'm thinking I'd like to open a bar, though.
Oh, and we bought a Ford Tempo. Yes, on purpose. To save on gas. I'll post pictures of the beast once I can clear the other things off my camera.
That's it for now, I'm sure I'll find more to say within the next week, all things considered.
