Sunday, August 14

A day in the life

I attended my first ever handfasting ceremony yesterday. It was complete with lots of rain, funky music (not Loreena McKennitt as I and LT had thought), happy parents, many meats and cheeses and, of course, a frog-shaped piƱata. To those parties interested in how a handfasting ceremony works (read: Beth and Sarah), we'll chat. It was good times. Photos later, if I get around to it.

After getting lost on the country roads and ending up a little farther west than was intended, I came home to work on a couple of baby booties. (I suddenly know a lot of preggo people ...) My fun, though had only just begun. I got to go to a parents-only showing of what my brothers had been doing at show choir camp the last few days. They had managed to completely memorise and choreograph "Car Wash", and it was pretty funny seeing my brothers do something other than grumble or play computer games (while wearing fabulous purple shirts, I might add). I'll have to come back for a show or two. My brothers make up two-fifths of the males in Noteable Jazz, due to (I think) most of the seniors being mad at der Professor for some reason. In short, it was good times, but nothing like "Thriller" and "Angel" in the old days.

My parents and I then returned the boys to the house and headed to Des Moines for a little pants shopping. My mom and I had been there a couple of weeks ago, before her $10 was valid, and kept them open late trying on all sorts of pants and deciding which city in their Cityology collection would work. Of course, by the time we got there last night, my mom had managed to lose her list and her coupon. She ended up buying a shirt and lots of pants, while I only got one button-down shirt and a pair of dark brown pants (Houston, if you're wondering which city I got).

I then dragged them to the Apple store on the other side of the mall, where I failed to convince the pater that I should get an iBook. He's set on the Mini, because it's so much cheaper. I want portability, he insists on affordability. Grrr. So no computer just yet, though I have yet to do a little mater-styled begging, as she promised last year that they'd buy me a computer when I threatened to use some scholarship money to score one. We shall see. Maybe I'll just sell a kidney.

By this time, we'd worked up quite an appetite, so we went to HuHot. I was still a little grouchy at them, but I ended up discovering the exact sauce flavor (Pad Thai) that I was hoping for, so I wasn't too sad. I also discovered that there's a HuHot in Omaha, not too far from the apartment (114th and Dodge), so I may have to drag Dustro and Melissa there sometime. I don't know if they're into Mongolian stir-fry, though.

And then I started reading Aristophanes' The Frogs last night because it's hella funny and the translator of this version decided to get all modern in the wording. (D=Dionysos, dressed as Herakles; X=Xanthias, his slave; H=Herakles)
D: Don't shift your load because "you need to go to the baffroom."
X: Can't I even tell the people I'm so over-loaded that unless somebody unloads me I'll blow my – bottom?
D: No, don't, please don't. Wait till I need to vomit.
.....
D: So then I'm sitting on deck, see, reading this new book: Andromeda, by Euripides: all of a sudden it hits me over the heart, a craving, you can't think how hard.
H: A craving, huh. A big one?
D: Little one. Molon*-size.
H: A craving. For a woman?
D: No.
H: For a boy?
D: No no.
H: For a, uh, man?
D: Shush shush shush. ... I don't know how to explain. I'll paraphrase it by a parable. Did you ever feel a sudden longing for baked beans?
H: Baked beans? Gosh yes, that's happened to me a million times.

And so on.

So enough about me. On to the rest of my heathenistic Sunday, wherein I attempt to avoid church and gooey displays of Jesus-ness.


* Molon was an actor, apparently either very large or very small.

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