||[Jun. 11th, 2009|03:19 pm]
I'm really looking forward to getting my life back, with the upcoming Final weekend (sorry, but the capital F is amusing me, for some reason) of Virginia Faire. |
Which is a joke, since there's clean-up day/cast party the weekend after. And then Celtic Fling, then a trip, then a social weekend, then heading out on the cruise. Damn. Don't even get me started on all of the paperwork and reporting and summing up that needs to be done for post-faire. Scheduling, planning, web and marketing updates, board of directors stuff...because, really, it is a year round thing. I just get a break from having to dress out (or feel like I should dress our) and running around at fevered pitch, plus spending my every spare minute of free time arranging for alcohol deliveries -- checks and licenses and deadlines, oh my!-- worrying about water tests and inspections, arranging for trash and toilets and...damn, another "t" is called for here and I'm drawing a blank. Copies. Making copies. Writing checks. But now I need another "c", but even that won't work because they're different sounding "c"s...
Anyhoo, at least it will be back down to a dull roar and I can get back to spending my lunchbreaks and evenings doing things like laundry, vet bills, yardwork, errands. Yes, I have irresponsibly abandoned all attempts at poetic here and gone with drudgery. Trust me. Drudgery would be the theme. Drudge enough and I'll be pining for the days of dressing up, won't I? Just in time for Maryland...
Passed an bus stop advertisement that read "Karoake gods should not be confined to land" which caught my eye, which is a score for the ad agency. On the other hand, as it was for Carnival Cruiselines, I immediately thought yep, there's one more reason NOT to go on another Carnival Cruise. So, that would be a fail ultimately. But I could be wrong -- I suppose there are more people, or at least more people likely to go on a cruise, a Carnival Cruise, who LIKE karaoke, as opposed to people like me, who break out in a raging rash and suddenly feel compelled to chew off their arms when stuck someplace where karaoke is happening.
Sorry, I know it's fun. You sure look like you're having fun. As do the people around you. Except for me and my compatriots, who are drinking heavily, wincing and trying not to scratch. But even good singers tend to not sound so great...and well, everyone else...I don't know, it's fine to be a little off at a shanty sing, or folk event. But when you're amplified...ooh, look at the time, gotta go.
At a colleague's birthday party the other day, he said something like "I can't believe I'm 50. That used to sound so old" And in my head I thought, "That's because it IS old." And then, my head gasped (it sounds sort of like a reverse sneeze) and thought "Omigod, I'm only 4 years away from that. Sweet Cheese of Jesus, they'd better come up with a better way to do a colonoscopy than one that involves fasting or I am SO going do die of colon cancer."
Because that's how weak I am. You've seen the size of my butt (most of you). Does it LOOK like fasting is an option? (Mom, stop reading now.) Does semen count? Because I've got news, not putting something in my mouth for a day is highly unlikely. A quiet dark room with a lot of valium. And batteries.
Despite that, I will wind up in the hospital with, what is that when you drink too much liquid? I will probably have to take up smoking that day, which will mean not only do I have a camera up my butt, I won't be able to breath and will have to have an oxygen mask on. Someone, somewhere, just found that arousing. But not me. If it was you, for the love of god, don't tell me. There are things I don't want to know.
Speaking of eating, I had lunch at Urban Burger in Rockville yesterday. It could well be the best damn burger I've ever had. Seriously. Mind you, let's qualify that with I'm not a burger fanatic. I mean, I love burgers, but I don't go out of my way to try "the house burger" or travel just to try burgers, the way I would get on a plane and fly to Kansas City just to try Arthur Bryant's BBQ. (Remember that, when airlines would have specials and didn't charge you for your changes of underwear by the pound?)
And admittedly, they put their Urban BBQ sauce, cheddar cheese and lovely bacon on it. I added pickles. Good Q sauce, cheddar, pickles and bacon and I could probably be halfway through my own hand before I noticed. And I had only one onion ring, stolen from my sales rep's plate, owing to my "reduce the caboose" plan. But it was good and not greasy. And really, I can't wait to go back. Bastards. I do wish the place had a bit more atmosphere, but what can you do.
Cider Jack has come out with a "dry" European style cider. It's in my car. I can hear it whispering all the way up here on the sixth floor. Come, drink me. You can pour me over ice and I'll be fine. You're the queen of disposables. You have cups. You know where the ice machine is in the kitchen. You have the car keys. You have two legs. Screw Major Tissue Manufacturer. Let them figure out their own damn pricing formula. There are 12 of us and we want you.