Spent the weekend at a unique Missouri phenomenon known as the "float trip." As my father has pointed out, this is a bit of a misnomer. I, in truth, did not float down the river. Any attempt to do so would end poorly as I have no natural buoyancy and would sink like a rock. The floating is done via canoe. Really, it should be called a canoe trip, not a float trip. A canoe trip where one paddles along the river and uses it as an excuse to drink during the day (if you are of age). The goal is to have a good time and of course, stay in your canoe...a goal at which I was successful up until the last 20 minutes.
How exactly it happened I don't know - maybe roommate D secretly installed an eject button on my canoe seat and wanted to see if it worked. All I know is roommate C's canoe was jammed backwards by a log, the current was pulling us right towards them, I went to push the paddle off from the log, missed, canoe slammed into log right beside me, then was airborne before hitting the water. Resurfaced about 10 feet further down the river, triumphantly holding my sunglasses in one hand (while tumbling down the river underwater saving the sunglasses was of utmost importance...don't know why...) According to onlookers the fashion in which I left the canoe was a sight to behold. Since the specifics of how I wound up flying through the air (not touching anything according to one witness) are fuzzy, I really wish there was documentation of some kind. It may be the closest I ever come to flying.
Oh, and stayed tuned for the story of my grandmother, steroids, and mistaken identity...
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Hello Goodbye
I've said far too many goodbyes recently.
Spent the weekend with college friends in Ohio, but it felt like all I did was leave. Even the almost-24-hours spent with the architect, the longest period of time I spent with anyone, wasn't enough. I could have stayed 2 or 3 more days easily, and we probably still would not have run out of things to talk about. The time to move on arrived far before I was ready, and again, that was the most time I spent with anyone. Literally hugged 'hello' and 'goodbye' to the musician (soon to be the Scotsman) in the same instant. A 'hello' hug should not also be a 'goodbye' hug - it's just not fair.
The worst part is saying goodbye not knowing when the next hello will come around. Just two weeks ago I had a much easier time leaving the producer, the actress, and the musician. But then I knew I'd be seeing them again just a few weeks down the road. Now I have no idea when the Vine ladies will be together...it could be another year, or even longer. There is always the possibility of another visit next summer, but a year is a long way off, and who knows what will happen in between. Every time I see the far away people I love it's like a little hole inside gets filled that I had gotten used to being empty. But when the hole is filled and then cleared out again too quickly, before the filling can really sink in and satisfy, a larger hole is left in its wake. The definitive plans of a future meeting at least anesthetize the wound a little.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for any opportunity to see dear friends, that's why I'll gladly drive 10 hours to do so. Any time together is worth the aftermath of knowing that there just wasn't enough time. Eventually the hole left by goodbye goes numb again, and the memory of time spent with friends stays fresh. But after four years of the Great Eastern Tour, leaving hasn't gotten any easier.
Spent the weekend with college friends in Ohio, but it felt like all I did was leave. Even the almost-24-hours spent with the architect, the longest period of time I spent with anyone, wasn't enough. I could have stayed 2 or 3 more days easily, and we probably still would not have run out of things to talk about. The time to move on arrived far before I was ready, and again, that was the most time I spent with anyone. Literally hugged 'hello' and 'goodbye' to the musician (soon to be the Scotsman) in the same instant. A 'hello' hug should not also be a 'goodbye' hug - it's just not fair.
The worst part is saying goodbye not knowing when the next hello will come around. Just two weeks ago I had a much easier time leaving the producer, the actress, and the musician. But then I knew I'd be seeing them again just a few weeks down the road. Now I have no idea when the Vine ladies will be together...it could be another year, or even longer. There is always the possibility of another visit next summer, but a year is a long way off, and who knows what will happen in between. Every time I see the far away people I love it's like a little hole inside gets filled that I had gotten used to being empty. But when the hole is filled and then cleared out again too quickly, before the filling can really sink in and satisfy, a larger hole is left in its wake. The definitive plans of a future meeting at least anesthetize the wound a little.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for any opportunity to see dear friends, that's why I'll gladly drive 10 hours to do so. Any time together is worth the aftermath of knowing that there just wasn't enough time. Eventually the hole left by goodbye goes numb again, and the memory of time spent with friends stays fresh. But after four years of the Great Eastern Tour, leaving hasn't gotten any easier.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Failure!
Wednesday is lake day.
Every Wednesday we go and hang out at the lake, reading, swimming, and people watching. Today I watched someone burn herself to a crisp. It wasn't even an all-over burn. There were easily identifiable bright pink patches, against pasty white skin. From 10 or more feet away it was easy to tell this poor women was going to be very sorry when she finally got out of the sun, to the point where we felt so bad for her that we almost went over and said something. Yet the friend standing right next to her did nothing.
This friend was a failure.
Every Wednesday we go and hang out at the lake, reading, swimming, and people watching. Today I watched someone burn herself to a crisp. It wasn't even an all-over burn. There were easily identifiable bright pink patches, against pasty white skin. From 10 or more feet away it was easy to tell this poor women was going to be very sorry when she finally got out of the sun, to the point where we felt so bad for her that we almost went over and said something. Yet the friend standing right next to her did nothing.
This friend was a failure.
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