Saftey First!

The theme of mine and Kenny’s joint party was “Safety First!”

I sewed the majority of my dress on the day of the party. We decorated with caution tape that Set found on a construction site. Sam put the helmet on me while I stood on a wooden box hanging the tape. Then a fifteen song play list created…


EARTHQUAKE DANCE PARTY

Now, the west coast and Texas visitors are gone and my 2.5 week long fake vacation is over. Back to work! And I’m making up for not posting anything for almost a week with multiple entries in a day. Also, I’ve decided it’s time to start doing things like sewing dresses in a night again.

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The running of the bull and a quarter century

My great aunt asked why so many people took pictures posing with the bull’s backside, where the testicles are just as detailed as the face. I shrugged, when I was secretly resisting the urge to take a photo of the balls myself. The answer to my aunt’s question is that deep down, everyone is a twelve-year-old boy.

When I turned twelve, I decided to have a retro party. My mom stapled hideous fabric up in the striped room. I wore Bailey’s tye-dyed tee shirt that was three sizes too big for either of us. My friends showed up in polyester and we ate red vines out of a tub from Costco. I turn 25 tomorrow. I’m not going to say that I’m old, because in the grand scheme of everything I’m quite young. But I do feel weird and anxious; it’s a substantial chunk of time. Mackenzie asked me if I knew what I wanted. I had no answer because I never know what I want for my birthday or Christmas anymore. My parents got me a new camera, which turned out to be exactly what I wanted. It has “food” and “museum” modes. So far, food mode just gives things a yellow tint.

Right now, I’m trying to finish up a batch of quizzes for work, so I can actually relax and have fun tomorrow. Bailey gets here on Saturday, and while there are many reason I wish she were here now, I really wish she were here to help me with fake answers about the plant books I have right now. I can think of tons of things that salamanders don’t do, but my knowledge base of plants has dwindled since my days of teaching at Outdoor School. I meant to finish the quizzes this weekend. Instead, I finished my taxes on Saturday afternoon and starting vomiting for the next twelve hours. Today, I made an attempt to eat something besides English muffins and Gatorade. So far, it’s working. But having no appetite makes picking a restaurant to go for your birthday dinner rather difficult. (I’m also really distracted by my extreme desire to go buy a pair of pants that aren’t falling apart or off of me. Maybe jeans are something I should buy more than once every year and a half).

Tonight, I’ll wear my gold boots. Tomorrow night, most likely my gold flapper dress. Next week, I’m going to buy safety goggles to make people wear at the joint birthday party.

Here’s a list of how I spent the last milestone birthdays:
16–Great Grandpa Britton’s memorial service.
18–running around Portland to places like the smutty comic book store, a headshop, to buy lottery tickets…and didn’t get carded at all.
21–We Vs. the Shark played Ithaca. My friends and I bonded with them over bottles of cheap champange.