Friday, July 27, 2007

What does this say about me?

I found this Japanese packaging label on a random Google images search about a year ago. While I am a sucker for Japanese products and advertisement, I am wondering why I saved this little strawberried headed lassie to my precious I-Photo library. That programs' rolls should be reserved for something useful, right, like the latest pictures of celebrity spawn and the like. Or for pictures of me getting my groove on. Or for pictures of me at sporting events. This precarious save makes me question all that I hold dear. Check that, it makes me question if my randomness will one day get the best of me and leave me with bunch of imaginary fruit/meat/vegetable headed and panda robot friends, which on the surface seemingly rules, you know with their ability to cause havoc and protect me from wilde beast, but in the end will leave MUCH to be desired.


Monday, July 09, 2007


I experienced the Indiana Dunes for the first time of my life. Really, this doesn’t make much sense given that I pretty much grew up and lived an hour away from them for most of my illustrious existence. Childhood vacationing was reserved for the state of Wisconsin.

While I appreciate all that the Wisconsin Dells has offer, especially the Ducks (I see a hawk in that rock formation! We are in a car that magically transforms into a boat!) and Xanadu (RIP) the foam house that I never actually got to visit. As we drove by it, I looked at it longingly just wanting to touch it and maybe roller skate inside it, which honestly, I don’t think would be allowed given that foam is malleable and disco skating figure eights would compromise the home’s integrity. There were other spectacular highlights as well, like the wooden smoke shop Indian and that house where everything is on a slant and the water runs crooked, but it’s really straight.

Seriously, I love the Dells and want to go back there as one day, maybe on my honeymoon with James Franco.

So, Indiana Dunes! Beautiful, uncrowded, and bright. I ran up and down the sand dunes like a little girl and through switch grass which made some nice lashing marks up and down my legs that have yet to heal. Oh yes, and the Dunes are full of Eastern Europeans (EE’s)! Not just any Eastern Europeans, but young portly men wearing speedos! Mauve speedos. I was a bit frightened but not enough to not stare and approach them with awe and wonder.

Okay, so I needed some keg cups for my brews and didn’t have the foresight to bring them with me to the beach, I noticed that the EEs were amply prepared for some serious good times with a huge inflatable boat (which they almost capsized, heehee), a beach tent, an arsenal of coolers, and the coveted red Solo cups. I approached, and after an awkward exchange of pleasantries and extreme focus on my part to avoid any unnecessary man “candy” clouding my field of vision, the cups were in my possession.

I then discovered that Steely Dan’s “Aja” is great beach music and was ready to experience beach chillin’. Super genius that I am I spent almost five hours of peak sun time without wearing sunblock. I now look like Fruit Stripe gum and I have the pleasure of experiencing my boobs peeling (not my entire boobs, just the part I let the general public see for free)! Overall, the Dunes (with the exception of injury, but then again that is a general rule with me) receive an endorsement for their beauty and people watching opportunities, but I’m still planning that honeymoon* with Jimmy at the Dells. *Yes, you are all invited, we'll take some oldey timey sephia toned photos together in a Model T, AWOOGAH!