Erin's Adventure Club (sole permanent member: me) had an outing on Saturday after a tiresome morning routine. The Adventue involved Turkish Coffee (yum), smoking mango tobacco through a hookah (yum, again), Belgium beer (yum) and some french fries (yum). It was a very multi-cultural afternoon.
It's nice being the only permanent member of a club. I can hold meetings as I whim and I can cancel if I want to sleep in. There are satellite members that will join in on the random Adventure. They've been clamoring for shirts and, I think, hard hats were requested. Next week will likely be Water World, which is not only a terrible movie starring Kevin Costner (who, due to a long story, is one of my nemeses) but is also a kick-ass water park. Again, I'll have a tiresome morning routine to get through but lounging about in an inner-tube afterwards will be just squeaky.
On a completly unrelated tangent, I played a concert yesterday with several other cellists. Afterwards, some dad-type came up and said "Wow, you girls sure are pretty!" ...Because the only reason I play cello is so I can look nice on stage. I twirled away abruptly and let someone nicer than me talk to the stalker.
It's odd because this is the second group of all-female cellists I've played with and we get complimented not on our playing, but on our looks. This shit is precisely why I dressed in saggy baggy clothes while growing up, and through college, and up until about two months ago. I don't know if it's sexism (perhaps) or just the thought of ladies holding up an instrument with their thighs, but I'm not listening any more. It's like complimenting a construction worker on the nice doorknob instead of the whole building in the background. At least THIS guy didn't say our names sounded like Call Girl names. Fabulous!
An Erinku:
ant
leading ant
and ant:
Dylan's food
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