So awesome Thursday, July 09, 2009
I'm a shit and haven't written about my totally awesome sky diving experience. Blame my super full social life, seriously WTF? I've been home a total of 3 nights in the last two weeks.So Saturday morning up bright and early with a weird vicodin hangover (my shoulder was really pissed at me the night before). A coke and some eggs seemed to clear it up, and thus I was ready to go. GO!
We got there and did our 5 minute tutorial and then signed a whole bunch of papers saying we wouldn't sue if our shutes didn't open and died or were torn limb from limb or other nightmare scenarios. We suited up (SUIT UP!) and climbed aboard the little plane for our jump. My back was against the control panel/engine so I couldn't hear a damn thing during the 20 minute ride up to 10,000 feet.
Once we hit it, I had to do this twisting roll over so that I was facing the nose of the plane and then my tandem dude hooked up to me- really it's like the tightest spoon of your life and you don't want it any other way. He said "I bet this is the closest you've been to a married man in a plane before!" To which I replied "Well, only a married man." because he totally walked into that one.
Then he opened the door and we stepped out onto a platform the size of textbook. We'd practiced this on the ground and while the platform seems small it's totally do-able, what I wasn't even considering was the wind speed. It's awesome. It takes your breath away and you can't believe that you are actually standing outside a plane with a ton of wind batting against your body.
Then the tandem guy goes one, two, three and suddenly you are hurtling through space. It's the most intense experience of my life. It's hard to register that the ground is rushing up to meet you and the force of everything on your body is crazy. The clearest thought that I can remember having is "Holy shit, these goggles are pressing against my face so tightly! I'm glad I'm wearing them!"
Then Chris (my tandem dude), pulled the cord and it was silent. Seriously, so quiet and crisp. I could see the slight curvature of the earth, the hazy point where the earth and sky met, everything looked tiny and unreal. It didn't feel like I was hurtling towards the earth any more, the contrast between the two was so startling. Chris gave me a set of cords to pull and showed me how to use them and we did a fun series of tight spirals. We practiced our landing stuff, and when we pulled down on the cord the chute collapsed and for a second we felt weightless and a touch of the freefall rush came back. It was mind blowing.
We had an excellent landing and honestly my face hurt from smiling so hard. It hurt for hours because I continued to smile. Several hours later the inevitable adrenaline crash happened and I needed a nap.
We are already planning our next jump (next spring/summer), I really do wish it wasn't so bloody expensive because I'd be doing a whole lot more.
That is the tiny platform you step out onto:
Is that me or a deranged flying elvis?
I feel like a super hero.
That is me!
Post-jump awesomeness:
Labels: Awesomeness, skydiving
Oh hi. Friday, June 26, 2009
So my lack of writing can almost wholly be attributed to the fact that I've spent the last two weeks trying frantically to re-finish a side table and bookcase rescued from the depths of my grandparent's basement. The scraping and sanding and inhaling of strong chemical strippers did wonders for my mental capacity. We used to tell ourselves in college that the brain cells we killed were clearly the weaker ones and therefor just making space for the stronger ones to survive and multiply. That theory is total bullshit.Minor setbacks aside, I should be finished with the bookcase this weekend. The side table, well, that one is a little bitch. The first round of stain on the top looked horrible due to some experimenting that went horribly wrong. So I had to re-strip it yet this time around the stain seemed to eat the stripper and wouldn't come off. So I had to sand large stubborn sections forever. Which is probably why my shoulder is hurting, you know that bitch shoulder that has been bothering me for months.*
Yet tomorrow is going to be perfect weather and I'm not going to be working on any of these projects. Instead I'm going to be flinging my body from an airplane. This, my friends, is not hyperbole. I am actually going to be doing it and I absolutely cannot wait. I've wanted to go sky diving for years and round and round we've made mythical plans to do it. A couple of months ago I decided it was time for us to stop pussyfooting around and set a date. This is the year of action.
Full report to come tomorrow or very soon after.
*I finally did have that shoulder looked at and am currently doing some physical therapy. I should be better according to them in mid-july.
Labels: Awesomeness, home improvement
I blame the champagne. Wednesday, June 10, 2009
It seemed to start like all birthday dinners that we have been having lately go: nice restaurant, everyone brings a bottle of wine and we commence with the eating and drinking and celebrating. But it took a turn right about the time I opened the bottle of Domaine St. Michelle I brought.I'm a lady who prides herself on her ability to open champagne bottles properly, hell I've opened bottle after bottle while riding in cars with nary a drop spilled. It's my badge of honor, champagne bottle opener girl. I waited a good thirty minutes after I got to the restaurant to open the bottle so any shaking it would have gotten while I trudged up several hills should have subsided. But as I removed the little metal capper thing the cork shot skyward and of course champagne started spraying everywhere.
I'll admit I panicked and clamped my hand over the top of the bottle thus creating a sprinkler effect and effectively giving everyone around me (including those not with our group) a bit of dousing (oxymoron, yes). I'm so unbelievably embarrassed for bringing the champagne sprinkler to the restaurant, which in theory sounds like an awesome idea, I'd like a champagne sprinkler right now. I profusely apologized to those around us and really do hope they didn't leave the restaurant cursing 'that bitch who doesn't know how to open champagne'.
From there on out the rest of the evening was a bit of tipsy blurr. At some point early on I told the story of the guy at the BMV who's hair looked like a Velociraptor, from then on I would randomly put my hands to the back of my head and wiggle my fingers while making a screeching sound. Everyone would laugh and that only encouraged me more.
Then I won the Irish Car Bomb Race, regardless of what Kate has to say about the matter. The prize? Another Irish Car Bomb, which is awesome. What follows Irish Car Bombs? Ridiculous photos of you and your friends, possibly involving lots of cleavage. Photos that will never ever see the light of day, that is unless you were there in person to witness our tipsy behavior. Because said behavior was taking place right in the middle of the most popular bar in our town, so I'm sure many people got to see that show.
Random aside: As I was walking to the restaurant, up those multiple hills, I caught site of my bottom in the reflective surface of a store front window. I'm sincerly hoping that it was combination of the dress, my underwear and walking up a hill that made my butt look like that. I was mesmerized and a touch horrified, my bottom looked very round and bouncy, protruding more than I'd like.
Labels: Awesomeness, beer, drinking, drunken shenanagans
Unlikable. Thursday, May 28, 2009
Christ, I've restarted this about 15 times already tonight. My original topic idea did nothing but cause me to want to sputter and be indignant yet be entirely incapable of explaining in any rational matter about why I hate it so. The topic: corporate naming rights to sports arenas.God, I just hate it. It smacks of crass american commercialism, where is the history and love of traditional park names? The name Progressive Field makes me annoyed beyond belief, Quicken Loans Arena? WTF? Don't worry my hate extends to the Tostitos Bowl and it's ilk.
Right, so that is the best I can do to explain it. I'm lacking the written skills today to do better but I felt I should give it a shot. It's crap, I know. I'm sorry.
I discoverd a new sport recently though, and considering my penchant for rolling down stupidly steep hills and my love of cheese I think I would excel at it: Cheese Rolling. AWESOME:
Evidence of my rolling abilities:
Kilter Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Woah, that last entry was more than a bit incoherent. Unfortunately I was not drinking so I can't even blame it on that. Rather I think it was pure distraction from trying to watch TV while write.This entry will, unfortunately not be filled with pithy transitions or even one thread to tie all the elements together instead I'm probably going to be listing and bunch of random shit that has been running through my head.
"Purity Balls" are hilarious. The weird fetishization of female virginity aside it's the inclusion of the word "balls" that makes me giggle. Balls are always funny. ALWAYS. Even more so when used in conjunction with the whole sexual bent of a virginity promise.
While we are in a sexual state of mind, I've said it before and I'll say it again...I need a date. I've even checked out the online sites and it's stagnant water. What the hell is up with guys who don't like women who are assertive or bold? Clearly, this dame isn't any sort of wallflower.
My bottom is already killing me from tonight's workout. Tomorrow and Thursday are probably going to be pure hell.
It's warm out and therefore all I want to do is drink beer. Cold, delicious beer.
I've decided to use the money from the accident to pay off part of my credit card. I've been slowly chipping away at my sort of smallish balance I've been carrying, this will help me put a decent dent in it. I have weird feelings about it because I feel like I should be getting the car fixed but it's an older car so why should I care if the paint is peeling off the left corner of the back bumper? It isn't like the front bumper isn't losing a good portion of it's paint already, so what is up with the conflicted feelings?
I hate all the clothes in my closet.
Scraps of paper Wednesday, May 06, 2009
The other day while looking for someone in my high school year book, I came across some papers that had been torn out of a notebook. On these pieces of paper were a few journal entries from my senior english class.I was in an AP Class, there was only one and we'd all been together since we were sophomores in high school. For some reason this afforded us some latitude in our general behavior in class, resembling a college course rather than a high school one.
Every class period we were supposed to write in a journal, my friend and I exchanged them with each other and often wrote for the other. He and I had been friends since grade school, I remember the first time I saw him. I was new in school (with a very thick southern accent) and he was carrying the plant for our classroom for the opening mass. I wanted to carry that damn plant and therefor instantly made it my mission to make his life hell. It didn't hurt that I thought he was cute. Ah, childhood you hate the ones you like.
So back to the papers, his journal entries are hilarious. And completely NC-17. I vaguely remember my entries to him and they were just as naughty. We were the personification of Catholic school kids with only sex on the brain.
I feel completely paranoid about sharing one of his entries, I somehow feel uncomfortable about it. I'm sure you all would not find them as hilarious as he or I would, as I read them I can hear him in my head and it makes me smile.
Punted Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday on my way home from work I got kicked in the rear, ok, more like my car did. Nothing major, no cops called, no real excitement over the whole thing. Just an orderly exchanging of information and then we were both on our ways. Minor damage to the bumper, which is not visible until you are up on it and only the tiniest bit of my tail light knocked out.Fortunately, the whole insurance process thus far has been entirely reasonable and easy. Accident was at 4:30pm and by 7:30 I had an appointment with his insurance agent to have them cut me a check for the repairs (next week).
A wholly boring affair, frankly when it comes to car accidents there isn't anything better.
Eternal question though, repair the damage or take the money and run? The civic is 11 years old and the damage so minor.
