Thursday, April 23, 2009

So, It turns out...

...that Shinnecock Hills Ave is not pronounced the way I thought it was. Awkward.
(I am shredding my letter to the county commissioners office, though i'm not deleting the email to my friend who lives off that street, nor can I keep the jokes at bay in my head)


...that two ibproufin pills, two glasses of water, nor breakfast will wear down a migrane... nope it took a one and a half hour nap (is it a nap if it's at 11am?) and still only downgraded to a headache.


...that hanging out with college friends for dinner makes you remember the funny, random stories that exist in the recesses of your mind and only come out for these special occasions... like this one: My freshman year of college I was at a punk rock concert. It was an outdoor one at the Rainbow Library Amphitheater because for one summer they decided to host a bunch of these little shows until kids destroyed their lawn and probably peed and puked all over their properties... anyways- there I was listening to someone like Unwritten Law or Youth Brigade (can't remember) when this shirtless, likely drunken dude jumps up on the stage, walks in front of where we're standing and gets in perfect formation for a stage dive.


What he doesn't know is that, in about 5 seconds, all the girls around me will disperse at the sight of him jumping over their heads. Only problem is that I didn't get the memo and became the only person to help this guy crowd surf.


Meaning: a guy jumped on my head and I was doing everything to help keep him there! Is it called crowd surfing when the 'crowd' is a seventeen year old girl with pink hair? As soon as I assessed the situation and realized that my "duties" were up... I dropped him on his butt and tried to play cool.


So, it turns out that crowd surfing doesn't work when your the only person in the crowd.


Good times.

1 comments:

Teri said...

As regards Shinnecock. Oh, my - I have a WHOLE STORY about that street and Mac & Amy Smith are part of it. We went out to look at model homes there about eight years ago and none of us could shut up about that name. Let the jokes in your head roll away, but good thing you didn't post that note to the commissioner. I'd love to read the draft!
Hm. Wonder if it was my good old teenage husband you caught? Actually, he was a lead singer, odds are good he would have stayed on stage...
Good times, indeed. Off to snicker about punk rock and Shinnecock.

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