ok, so i nixed sorella's. some other time (seriously people, it freakin rocks so get your butts over there with me.) j.p. turned out to be a tad too far off for me today, so i decided to stroll my new neighborhood and explore davis square.
can i just say my new diggs are the freaking bomb location?! davis rocks. yeah, it's a bit scuzzy, but in a cool way. like, ok, there's a dollar store next to a mcdonalds, and it seems a little like all the stores sell things that are used... BUT the radness is in the FOOD. i ate for the first time at mr. crepe (ham and cheddar crepe, along with some fresh squeezed lemonade - delish! if a tad over priced...) i realize all of you probably already know about places like mr. crepe, so you'll have to excuse my country-bumpkiness. after enjoying my food, reading my entertainment weekly, and people watching, i wandered over to the benches in the square and listened to two old dudes singing bluegrassy-old-timey music. the breeze was warm and blowing my skirt around. the square was hoppin', but in a lazy way. it was heaven.
in my wanderings, i realized that there are several places i already know will have a special place in my life this summer: spikes (57 t-bird baby!), j.p. licks, the somerville theatre, and mr. crepe. my curiosity was piqued by gargoyles, orleans, the burren, and johnny d's. ah, the sweet promise the beginning of summer brings! so much to explore! so much to experience! so many sensory delights!
now, the best part. my new apartment rocks in and of itself and i am THRILLED to finally have a place to host my peeps. i mean, for crying out loud! i have been the nomadic rootless wonder lacking any and all context for a year and a half! now, i can share a space of mine with the people i heart, and that's you! (fyi - as far as i know, only people i heart read my puny blog. readership has not been nurtured by yours truly.)
people, i want to see your faces here. i want to see your booties shakin' here. i want to hear your delicious voices here. this summer is going to wail. you have my word on that. now are you in, or what?
Monday, May 28, 2007
sorella love
i want to go to sorella's in J.P. oh-so-badly and peeps is all outa town, sleepin, or just plain not down. that means there's only one thing to do. go it alone. i will report back with full details.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Saved from the Golden Sperm
in 8th grade i tried out for the Cupertino High School Drill Team. it was both the most traumatic and most fortuitous experience of my high school career. this is my tale...
as a marginally cool, largely ignorant 8th grader, my knowledge of the Golden Spurs consisted of the following:
1. they were the high school dance team
2. my best friend's older sister was one (she was cool)
3. they mostly looked alike - size 0-4, pony tail, make-up, BIG smile, knowing look...
WHAT then would posses me to try and become a Spur? what switch flipped in my brain that i made this mad leap down the rabbit hole? in my little 8th grade mind it was simple really. i had danced off and on since i was a kid and i wanted a high school identity (basically, a gang that would have my back.) plus, i even had the pony tail. what could be more natural?
reality. what could be less natural? i was around a size 10, was painfully self-conscious, and couldn't do the splits.
SO, tryouts.
show up to the Wagon Wheel. like it's not terrifying enough just being on campus at THE HIGH SCHOOL, i'm surrounded by midrif bearing elf girls, chirping, giggling, and the lot. really, i believe they were speaking another language. well, we proceed to learn THE ROUTINE. it's a predictably lame jazz-type-stripper-infused number. to 8th grade jenni's mind this translates as, "this is AWESOME. i will master this AWESOMENESS." i roll, i slide, i leap, i fall, i spin, i wag my ass, i even flip.
one week later it's audition day. i've been trying for 7 days to convince my anatomy that my legs ARE supposed to split 180 degrees apart. legs not having it. i have also been trying to convince my face to SMIIIIILE! while failing to execute said splits. i think it came out more like a lunatic grimace. people, i gave it my all (of course, telling myself the whole time i didn't really care if i made the team.)
moment of truth. the next day the list is posted. failure. rejection. tears. my BF's big sis consoles me. we all decide it's for the best. after all, i am going to be a swimmer, so who has time for drill? ...
immediate payoff? in the course of my spastically enthusiastic audition, i injure my hip. then, right after the auditions, we take our 8th grade trip to yosemite for science camp. i hike daily, sometimes up to 8 miles, all on my injured hip. the injury becomes chronic! my doctor forbids me from P.E. for THE REST OF THE YEAR! let's just say, P.E. was not my favorite class. this was a major coup. instead of running, failing at pull-ups, and being forced to play volleyball/basketball (2 sports i consider to be vile torture,) i got to hang out with the guidance couselor. she just so happened to be the mom of the HOTTEST boy in school. so, said hot boy came around often - hello eye candy!
people, this was the gift that kept on giving. i get out of almost all running my freshman year as well. i milk this injury for all it's worth! by the time i'm a sophomore, i find myself somehow magically transformed from Presidential Physical Fitness Reject to High School Aquatic Athlete. this means, no P.E at all while in season, major favoritism while out of season.
i proceed with four years of swimming and water polo, in which time i learn:
1. the Golden Spurs are often treated to the lovely moniker "Golden Sperm"
2. they all wear matching socks, which freaks my friends on the team out, yet they feel they too must wear the socks
3. the have that knowing look for a reason. they KNOW. example - they make out with each other to impress drunk boys
4. they don't win
meanwhile, i definitely found my gang. and let me tell you, i'll take a pack of water polo players at my back over 90lb dancers any day. not that i'm knockin' the Sperms. i had friends who were spermies. i just felt bad for them. heh.
as a marginally cool, largely ignorant 8th grader, my knowledge of the Golden Spurs consisted of the following:
1. they were the high school dance team
2. my best friend's older sister was one (she was cool)
3. they mostly looked alike - size 0-4, pony tail, make-up, BIG smile, knowing look...
WHAT then would posses me to try and become a Spur? what switch flipped in my brain that i made this mad leap down the rabbit hole? in my little 8th grade mind it was simple really. i had danced off and on since i was a kid and i wanted a high school identity (basically, a gang that would have my back.) plus, i even had the pony tail. what could be more natural?
reality. what could be less natural? i was around a size 10, was painfully self-conscious, and couldn't do the splits.
SO, tryouts.
show up to the Wagon Wheel. like it's not terrifying enough just being on campus at THE HIGH SCHOOL, i'm surrounded by midrif bearing elf girls, chirping, giggling, and the lot. really, i believe they were speaking another language. well, we proceed to learn THE ROUTINE. it's a predictably lame jazz-type-stripper-infused number. to 8th grade jenni's mind this translates as, "this is AWESOME. i will master this AWESOMENESS." i roll, i slide, i leap, i fall, i spin, i wag my ass, i even flip.
one week later it's audition day. i've been trying for 7 days to convince my anatomy that my legs ARE supposed to split 180 degrees apart. legs not having it. i have also been trying to convince my face to SMIIIIILE! while failing to execute said splits. i think it came out more like a lunatic grimace. people, i gave it my all (of course, telling myself the whole time i didn't really care if i made the team.)
moment of truth. the next day the list is posted. failure. rejection. tears. my BF's big sis consoles me. we all decide it's for the best. after all, i am going to be a swimmer, so who has time for drill? ...
immediate payoff? in the course of my spastically enthusiastic audition, i injure my hip. then, right after the auditions, we take our 8th grade trip to yosemite for science camp. i hike daily, sometimes up to 8 miles, all on my injured hip. the injury becomes chronic! my doctor forbids me from P.E. for THE REST OF THE YEAR! let's just say, P.E. was not my favorite class. this was a major coup. instead of running, failing at pull-ups, and being forced to play volleyball/basketball (2 sports i consider to be vile torture,) i got to hang out with the guidance couselor. she just so happened to be the mom of the HOTTEST boy in school. so, said hot boy came around often - hello eye candy!
people, this was the gift that kept on giving. i get out of almost all running my freshman year as well. i milk this injury for all it's worth! by the time i'm a sophomore, i find myself somehow magically transformed from Presidential Physical Fitness Reject to High School Aquatic Athlete. this means, no P.E at all while in season, major favoritism while out of season.
i proceed with four years of swimming and water polo, in which time i learn:
1. the Golden Spurs are often treated to the lovely moniker "Golden Sperm"
2. they all wear matching socks, which freaks my friends on the team out, yet they feel they too must wear the socks
3. the have that knowing look for a reason. they KNOW. example - they make out with each other to impress drunk boys
4. they don't win
meanwhile, i definitely found my gang. and let me tell you, i'll take a pack of water polo players at my back over 90lb dancers any day. not that i'm knockin' the Sperms. i had friends who were spermies. i just felt bad for them. heh.
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