tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Dead Presidents - who's a hottie?

Christ. Does nobody update their journals anymore? I certainly know I’ve been remiss, but I’m also waiting on updates from Weetabix, Mimi, and LJCFYI Jenny. Pretty pathetic, but it’s better than watching soap operas.

Here’s the weekend update:

Friday Megan and I met at the club for what we thought would be Bob’s spin class. The dearth of padded bike pants in the lobby should have given me a hint that Bob was on vacation and I confirmed this when I signed up. Our instructor would be ‘Tony’ – a complete unknown. Turns out that I will be avoiding any Tony-taught classes in the future. Despite his Hans ‘n’ Franz physique he played music like a girl – bad warbley pop and r&b with no distinct beats to pedal to. Not a complete waste, but not quite what I had hoped for.

From the club Megan and I hopped on the L and met Tam at PS Bangkok for some Thai. Again I was concerned by a dearth – this time of customers. I prefer my restaurants to have fair number of other customers. I figure if others are eating there it can’t be too awful. Plus, it was odd because this was in Wrigleyville which is usually overflowing with tourists and 20-somethings on the make and all of those people have to eat SOMEWHERE – right? Why not PS Bangkok? Luckily all of our food was excellent and bountiful. I would have loved to take my leftovers with me, but we were headed to Metro to see Einsturzende Neubauten. Just typing that makes me feel giddy and high schoolish. It was such a bizarre scene at Metro. I saw EN back in 1986 (apparently their first show at what was then Cabaret Metro) and it was as if everyone who was at that show came back for this one – dressed exactly as they had in 1986. I felt like I was entering a new wave/punk rock time warp. The show was fun – more performance art than rock ‘n’ roll as would be expected – it’s not like EN are a singalong kind of band anyway. Hopefully the woman standing near us who was TRYING to sing along will stumble across this. If so – here’s the clue stick – feel it bapping your noggin’ and wake up. No-one wants to hear you try to match vocal gymnastics with Blixa Bargeld. After about an hour and a half, having had out fill of lyrics screamed auf Deutsch, compressed air being blown onto a revolving trash mobile (a comment on the disposable consumerism of America perhaps?) and pots and buckets tossed around onstage we left early. One can only take so much of that sort of thing.

Notable conversation from Friday while we were pulling out money to pay for dinner:

Me: “Wait, which bill is it that has the hot guy on it? I think it’s the $20.”

Frantic search for a $20.

Megan and Tam – almost simultaneously: “Ew! You think Andrew Jackson is HOT?!?!?”

Me: “Well, he looks hot now that they redesigned the bill and gave him an update.”

M&T: “No way! Look at his eyebrows! He’s in serious need of grooming or waxing or SOMETHING.”

Me: “Yeah, but look at his luxurious locks. He has great hair.”

M&T: shudder.

I suppose I’ll never live this down. Forever I’ll be the girl who has the hots for Andrew Jackson. I challenge anyone to look at their money and find a better looking president. Andrew Jackson is the absolute best – unless you like those Amish beards and then you might pick Honest Abe, but that’s your problem. I’ll go with thick wavy hair and slightly out of control eyebrows any day.

Saturday was pretty full. I helped stuff goody bags for the upcoming animal shelter walk-a-thon and then went to the range where I, again, shot poorly. I did extract a promise from Terry, the owner, that sometime when I come in and he has help downstairs he’ll come up and watch me shoot and give me some pointers. Whatever. It’s so frustrating. On an up note, on the way to the range I went shopping at Gino’s for the fixin’s for my pizza party on Sunday. Yum – all those Italian specialty foods just make my mouth water. When I got home I prepared most of the pizza ingredients that needed something done to them so Sunday would go as smoothly as possible.

Saturday night was pretty low-key. Steve came home from his soccer game (another loss) and we ordered in from Reza’s and watched a few more of the never ending parade of episodes on DVD’s of Homicide: Life on the Street. I swear that I go to sleep earlier on weekend nights than I do during the week. L-O-S-E-R.

Sunday Steve and I picked up Megan and Clark and we went to a garage sale where I scored 5 mini sets of sterling salt & pepper shakers for $20 and Steve bought a dresser-top box with a Masonic symbol on top for $6. We debated on an outdoor table with a hole for an umbrella but decided to take a pass.

Then we all went out to Palatine for some Orienteering fun at Deer Grove Forest Preserve. I’m the shittiest orienteer-er around. I don’t really care and I usually don’t take a map, so I just follow everyone else. But I do have fun. And sometimes I even get to embarrass myself or my husband. Last year at the Night-O, it was and I went over to talk to Steve while he was marking up our map. I put my hands on his shoulders and then laid my chin down while I looked over him at his map. Only it wasn’t Steve. It was some Eastern-European guy whom I totally freaked out. Oops. This time, as we were paying one of the guys at the registration table stood up and took off his muddy pants. Now, bear in mind that these weren’t athletic pants – they were pleated khaki-type pants that had just seen better days – so I thought he was getting naked, or at least down to his tighty-whiteys. So when I realized that he had a pair of running shorts under his pants I said, “Wow, I thought I was about to get a free show with my registration!” Much joking ensued, but apparently Steve thought that was mildly inappropriate of me. Hey – what can I say? I’m a fun person. Anyway, we did a short Orange course so we could get back home quickly.

I won’t go into details of pizza night – suffice to say that everything went well, much food was eaten, and wine drunk. More limericks were recited, I said the ‘c’ word in public (what? It was in the limerick! You just can’t substitute y’know). People left happy and that’s what matters to me.

There’s my update and I’m stickin’ to it.

10:30 a.m. - 2004-05-04

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