Friday, March 21, 2003

I'm tired. Incredibly so. I all exercised and stuff. I even played a sport. Like a team one.

It all started last night, when I was in the midst of writing a rather sentimental blog over the start of the war on Iraq. It was reflective and meaningful, with an awed tone. Then Angela sent me an IM.

Angela: Come over and watch a movie!
Me: No.
Angela: Please?
Me: No!
Angela: Come on!
Me: No! Damnit! I'm tired!
Angela: Fine!

Angela to April:

Angela: Make Sarah get off her lazy ass and come to watch a movie.
April: Okay.

April to Me:

April: Get off your lazy ass and go watch a movie.
Me: No. I'm tired!
April: Come on!
Angela: COME ON!
Me: No! Tired! Lazy!
April and Angela: COME ON!
Me: Fine, damnit!

Actually, it didn't happen much like that. I don’t even know how it really happened, but I extrapolated that. And I’m probably rather fonder of it than the truth, and since it’s my blog, I can put it however I please.

So, anyway, we went to Angela's, where I blogged the incident below this. The corpse, consequently, was missing by the time we came home. Mysterious. And then we went to Denny's and tortured a poor waiter boy. I wouldn't sit by Angela because she has a habit of pissing herself at restaurants. I had chocolate milk, and I chewed on a straw, it was good. There was a rather disgusting incident regarding Angela's snot, which is better recalled in her blog. But anyway, after that, we went to Meijer. We bought kites and tennis balls, and prepared for today.

Today, we went to Brookside Park. Angela was only half an hour late. Well done on that, by the way, Angela. Though first, we got little airplanes at the world famous Olivesburg General Store. It was great. I lost a part on mine, so I told Angela that I'd put hers together for her, and I stole the part I was missing from her. Later I found my part, so I gave it back. But it was good anyway. We listened to the Greatest Hits of Ace of Bass.

Then we got Mike and went to the park. I put my kick ass Jolly Roger kite together in seconds flat. Blazing speed, indeed. And he was flying before any of the others had their kites even assembled. I helped Mike with his Raptor. Well, he was going to call it a Raptor, but it looked more like a Pigeon to me. I had to get April's Butterfly up in the air for her. It sucked, because I all had to run and stuff and they watched me. It was a charitable act of utterly good will it was, and it more than made up for the stealing of Angela's airplane parts. Also, I didn't make a single World Trade Center joke with my airplane, and that's like, bonus points on my soul for the day.

I felt a little sad that, for all my difficulties in keeping my kite in the air, when it escaped from me, a tree did a perfectly good job of keeping it in the air for me. But I saved it. My kite ruled. It was a rebel. It wasn’t content to just hang around, it had places to go. And it wasn’t waiting to be operated, damnit. He was meant to soar, and not to be pulled around by the strings. He wouldn’t dance just cause you told him to. Consequently, this attitude resulted in a massive rip down the narrower part of his triangle. Alas, poor Kitey, I knew him well.

So, after kiting, we went to the playgrounds. Technically, there was a rather disgusting and disturbing incident involving Angela and April and public urination, though I’ll once again refer you to Angela’s blog for the details on that. So, the playground was designated for two to five year olds, which is approximately our maturity level, so we went in. We took a lot of pictures, which I’ll post in a few days. But, long story short, I fell off some playground equipment; Mike, April and I pretended to be being birthed simultaneously out of one of those covered slide things; Mike bled after having a bit of an accident on the other slide thing. And there was another playground.

Then we played Tennis, which, I have no talent for whatsoever. It was fun, in that sort of, um, sport sort of way.

Anyway, then I came home. And it seems I’ve been writing this ever since, on account of, every time I start to write it, something happens. For instance, mom decides to try to sign on, and it kicks me off and I have to start all over. Or I get thirty seven IMs from kids from the message boards. Or it’s my turn in Scrabble.

In any case, I’m tired. So here are some observations for the day.

- Marching bands can be strangely evocative, given the proper context.
- Ashland really is someplace special.
- Puppy metaphors are nearly always appropriate. After all, everything really is all about puppies.
- Religious stuff is funny stuff. It’s funny when Amanda’s baby gets under a light, raises her arms and goes: “Ahh!” It’s also funny when, while playing the letter game on the way to a concert, Daysi finds “G” and yells: “Oo! I found God! I found God!”
- There’s never a time when it’s not funny to ask: “Was that a fat joke?”
- James Taylor’s October Road is more addictive than Chocolate Éclairs, though it doesn’t taste as good with milk.