Daily Archives: 19 March 2006

Eight hours of "fun"

Two things you should know first, by way of exposition.

1: I hate parties. I want to like them, I really do. I want to be nice and sociable and friendly and liked, but I’m too socially awkward. No really, I am the Black Hole of small talk. Alala’s four-step plan to surviving parties?

1 – arrive late
2 – park myself by the food
3 – only talk to people I know
4 – leave early

It’s the only way I can do it. I know, I’m a loser. I hate it, but there you go.

2: I hate to drive. Always have. I hate the responsibility of controlling a 2-ton death machine, hate having to concentrate so hard, ack. I didn’t even get my license until I was 26, and then only because we’d moved to Wisconsin, Land of Crappy Public Transit, and I had to learn to drive or starve to death. So I do drive, but only when I absolutely have to, and then only to the grocery store.

So now that you have the information necessary to understand the story, here it is:

DrBob shared his birthday party with 3 other guys we know who turned 40 or 41 this week. The party was in Munich last night. We got there at 7:30 to set up, and we had to stay to the end, which was around 3:30 a.m. It was loud and smoky and I knew very few people. There was only one person I could speak English with, the rest of my conversations were in Spanish or German. And? I agreed to drive us home so that DrBob could enjoy himself without having to worry about how much he drank, which meant I drank alcohol-free beer all night.

DrBob’s all, “hey that was fun, we should have another party sometime.” I’m all, “Just shoot me now Of course dear! When?”

Song du jour of the evening: the Hives. See Through Head


Oh, Lordi, Lordi

A little known fact that I just made up: Eurovision is the progenitor of the WTF phenomenon. Hey, it could be true. You take about 50 WTF-moments, string ’em together, and you’ve got the Eurovision Song Contest, pretty much. I mean hey! It’s a pop-song contest, with one entry from each participating country! In Europe! How could this not be fabulous? It’s like…a giant, festering kitsch-bomb. It’s like pearls with plaid and sequins and fringe! And bearskin capes and leather bikinis, of course.

Seriously. You have got to see this. Umm, over here if you click on “Multimedia Lounge”, and choose “video” you can see a selection of Eurovision offenders entries through the ages.

Anyway, at the moment I’m hoping Finland’s entry wins, on the principle that, even though two wrongs don’t make a right, five wrongs most certainly do.


a little whine with the daily grind

I don’t WANT to work. I am finding all kinds of reasons not to do these two little puppet-head jobs. It will probably only take a few minutes, but they’ll be really, really tedious minutes. More tedious than vacuuming or folding the rest of the laundry? Ooo, tough call there. I’d better flip a coin. Hey, the dolphin dish has a buncha foreign coins, mixed in with the euro-coins! I should sort those out, put the American ones in DrBob’s room for when he goes to Kalamazoo in May, and the rest in Ignatz’s coin collection-which-is-really-just-a-box, and maybe put the euro-change in my wallet. Oh that reminds me that my wallet needs cleaning out. But first I better have a snack…

Song du jour of the day? Gotta be Put Your Hand Inside the Puppet Head by They Might Be Giants