Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Bees - Tiny Buzzing EVIL

I do not like bees.

Sure, they make honey. That's cool.

But they also buzz around your picnic table, sting you with their evil little stingers, and get all up in your grill for no good reason.

Evan would beg to differ. He used to keep bees. He kept those bees like a bawss. So if there is, oh say, a giant freaking horde of bees buzzing around right outside his front door, he will just walk right on through them. Like a bawss.

(Beekeeping is probably like this. You may become Covered in Bees. Warning: There is one wild F-Bomb. But just the one. A lot of people probably cuss when they discover they are covered in bees. I would. I just wouldn't use that particular word.)

I will blindly follow him, like the trusting little fool that I am, and be halfway through when I suddenly realize that those are not harmless little flies like I originally thought.
Oh son of a Nutcracker. Those are bees.I controlled myself ridiculously well. Mostly because if I jumped and screamed, the bees would become angry.
And angry bees are way scarier than bees that are just chillaxing around a large mysterious puddle in front of someone's front door.
So I probably squeaked a little, squeezed Evan's hand until I successfully cut off the circulation (Well, that would be some trick, actually. He seems to have a pulse everywhere), and kept walking.
The puddle in front of his front door is caused by their air conditioner drooling. Bees really love AC drool, so they all hang out and drink all day.
And because Evan used to be a crazy little beekeeper, there are LOTS of bees.
Iz scawy.

So far, I haven't been stung. Ever. Which is kind of nice, because I hear getting stung by bees kind of sucks, but it's also not that nice. Because I don't know if I'm allergic. My siblings aren't, but my mom is. Not the kind of allergic where you coughandchokeanddie. Just the kind where you swell up a lot. But I'm not allergic to the same stuff anyone else in my family is. I managed to be allergic to fire ants. Fire ant bites swell up, but not as much as they did when I was little (Or maybe they swell up the exact same amount, but I'm just bigger now. Hmmmmm...).
Sometimes I swell up for no good reason. Like, sometimes the area under my eye will go POOF! And one time my lip got all swollen for no good reason at all, other than to be like, "Ha! I'm big and poofy! NOW YOU LOOK FUNNY! Also....I buuurnnnnnn. >:D"
That was weird.
Anywhoo. Bees.

My family went on a big groovy road trip in August/September of...2009? We drove through Colorado, Wyoming, South Dakota, and various places in between. But the three states just mentioned are apparently where all the bees live. In Colorado, we were following around a tour guide in the Garden of the Gods, and a bee was all like, "O HAI" so I screamed and ran away. The tour guide thought I was weird. But he likes to eat the random plants that grow in the park, so I think he's weird too. I guess it's so he doesn't have to pack a lunch.

In Wyoming, we were havin' a picnic. I was all cute and innocent and drinkin' a soda (Yeah, I know...Bees love it) when a bee comes up and is all, "GIVE ME YO DRAHNK, FOO'!" and I was all, "FINE TAKE THE DAMN DRINK JUST LEAVE ME ALOOOOOONE!". I screamed and ran away. I left my chips. And my drink. And my purse. Oops. I tried to send my brother to go get it, since he's not allergic to bees, but he was too chicken. My mom had to do it. She was successful.
But I guess taking the soda away pissed the bee off, because as I was walking down the sidewalk, a bee (I bet it was the same bee, seeking it's revenge) flew all up in my grill, and started clunking it's face on my sunglasses. I screamed, and dropped my chips AGAIN and ran away.
I think I might've left the chips that time.
Poor little bag of baked Lay's.

In South Dakota, we visited the Badlands. There ain't a whole lot of plant life in the Badlands. But there are bees.
Angry bees.
They will find you. They will scare the crap out of you. You can't even run away properly. Too many cliffs. And large tourists.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is why I hate bees.
Thank you, and have a bee-free day!

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Dancing, Laughing, and Ginormous Sammiches

The past two summers, I have gone with my dance teacher, and sometimes fellow assistants, to the MusicWorks dance convention in Dallas. This blog entry will cover my third trip. I wrote a lot of this while at the hotel, so if the past and present tenses get all mixed up...sorry. Some of it was just happening, and I wasn't sleeping much, so I didn't catch it. You Grammar Nazis will just have to deal with it.

Day 01-

Awakened at 4:30 am. This actually was not as big deal as I thought it would be. I guess maybe because it wasn't like getting up in the morning. 4:30 is still night. I'm frequently still awake at 4:30. My big squishy Bunny was following me around while I got ready to go, meeping at me. Getting ready to go included putting on a teensy bit of makeup, just so I wouldn't look dead, and gathering all my luggage (prepacked of course) in slow motion. I snuggled my squishy Bunny goodbye, and patted Blitzen's bootay, and settled on the front porch to wait for my ride. The ride was late, so I got my dog, Candy, out of the yard and sang "Halfway Down the Stairs" to her twice. She doesn't care what I sing. She doesn't even care if I sing badly (Which is often true). If I sing, she gets all blissfully happy and looks like she's going to go to sleep.
She's weird.
So my ride eventually came, I threw my luggage in the trunk, and settled in the back seat with my pillow and mp3 player with the shiny new earbuds that blocked out the talking of Ms.Sue and her sister. (Her sister has decided she does not want her name on the internetz. So I'll call her...Ummm...Fine. Her name is Fred. Sorry, Fred, that's the first name that popped into my head.) Normally I wouldn't mind talking to them at all. But I had 3 or less hours  of sleep, and I wanted to get more. I ended up kinda dozing. Close enough. I've never been able to sleep in the car. Ever.
On the way, we stopped at a couple rest stops. I think one was maaayyybe a Shell station. That's seriously all I remember about it. The other was a barbeque/gas station/  gift shop type of place, with a bunch of Texas-themed souveneirs. Most of these had armadillos on them. WHY are tourists so freaking obsessed with armadillos? You hardly ever see armadillos wandering around the wild, anyway. In my entire life, I have seen live armadillos wandering about in the wild three times. The rest have all been roadkill. Armadillos are stupid.

For the rest of the trip I listened to quiet sleepy music and was in that weird place between waking and sleeping. I woke myself up shortly before we arrived at the hotel. Our room was waayy up on the tenth floor this time. We got a nice veiw of the runway.
But when the planes take off, it messes with our internetz.  Which is not cool. Especially since the Hyatt charges like, twenty bucks for 48 hours of internet. For one computer. I can't even log on with my computer. I'd have to pay another tweny bucks. D:

Ms.Sue and I headed down to the ballroom, and left Fred to wander around the hotel.
Not having much sleep I wasn't thinking too clearly, and decided to skip out on some of the more difficult classes. Teehee. I got better as the day went on. And I got to take a Contemporary class, which I really enjoyed. I like contemporary. It's weird. I want to do some contemporary choreography to Lithium, by Evanescence. I'd never be able to USE it, I just want to do some choreography to it. I love Lithium. It's my panic attack song.

Hip hop was pretty cool. First we had Kidz Hop with Joan Lather. It is very amusing to watch a seventy-nine year old woman do hip-hop, and do it well.
We also had hip-hop with Gina, which was really fun. We got to be alien robots. Everyone should enjoy pretending to be an alien robot. I'm totally using that for the hip-hop/jazz class I'm teaching this year. I'm going to change some parts though. Currently, I believe it to be too easy. Those kids need slightly more of a challenge than that.

Musical theatre is my favorite class at MusicWorks. The beginner musical theatre number that Gina taught us was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It has been discovered that it is REALLY hard to sing that song without making it sound like, "Oh, you, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, pretty s****y bang bang, we love you!" It was hilarious. I'm laughing right now thinking about it.

After classes, we headed down to the friggin' expensive hotel restaurant. Sneaky, sneaky restaurant. They give you the menu with the expensive stuff on it, and don't give you the menu with the burgers and nachos and stuff unless you ask. (I believe they give you this menu if you sit in the area with the bar.)

I had a giant burger, and fries in this weird springy fry-vase thing.
I know, it's a blurry picture. And I look horrible because of the whole no-sleep thing. And a waitress was looking at me weird. So I didn't take another one.
IT WAS SUCH A DELICIOUS BURGER.
Seriously, I ate most of it. I. Ate. Almost a whole burger. This sort of thing doesn't happen often.
I actually ate a lot that day. It was kinda freaky.

After dinner, Fred and I settled in upstairs to watch TV and surf teh internetz while Ms.Sue went to her dance teacher meeting.
I was focused on my internet, so I didn't notice that Fred was watching a dirty movie until she freaked out, muted it, and changed the channel. I guess she felt the need to protect my innocence. Because I never watch anything dirty myself. Never. *whistles innocently*
She didn't mind the part where Pierce Brosnan was taking a bath and some woman walked in on him. But Pierce Brosnan didn't seem to mind either.

After Ms.Sue left her meeting, she and Fred went down to the bar for a glass of wine, jokingly instructing me to come down and get them if they called. Being too young to drink is apparently being like the designated driver. Except nobody had to drive anywhere.

Lookit, it's meeee!
View from the balcony, unobstructed by my face.
And it's not like I never drink wine anyway. But they wouldn't bring me any. -____-
While they were gone, I chillaxed, blasted music really loudly, took a few pictures on the balcony, painted my toenails black, and called my Mom.



About an hour later, Ms.Sue and Fred came back up. Ms.Sue declared that she was hungry, and that she was going to eat her birthday cookie. As she began eating her cookie, Fred started laughing uncontrollably.
F: *chucklechuckleguffaw*
S: "What? WHAT'D YOU DO TO MY COOKIE?"
F: "I *heeheehee* I ate some of it. Only around the edges, so you wouldn't notice."
S: "You're not a nice sister! THAT WAS MY COOKIE!"
F: *heeheeheeheheeee*
Me: "She ate your cookie?"
S: "SHE ATE MY COOKIE! MY BIRTHDAY COOKIE!"

We then discovered that Fred had not only eaten part of Ms.Sue's birthday cookie, she had also eaten a bunch of other stuff. Like Ms.Sue's sandwich. And some Goldfish crackers. And some cherry fruit snacks. And some pretzels. And a Dr.B (Which is drinking, not eating, but whatever). When Fred gets bored, she eats food. Preferably other people's food. Ms.Sue does pretty much the same thing, only she eats her own food (Except at restuarants. Then she eats everyone's food).
I have no idea how they stay so fit.

It took a while for me to get to sleep after that massive giggle fit, but Ms.Sue and Fred had no trouble. How do they DO that? Without medication? These things baffle me. Within minutes, they were both snoring away. One of 'em snores pretty loud (The other stopped pretty quickly), so I didn't get to sleep until around 1:30 (Which is pretty freakin' early for me, really).
I bet the room was lovely while we all slept. I snore too. Sometimes. Usually right before I wake up. It's like a warning. Everyone knows to back off and not say the words "good morning" around me.
Hrmm. I actually only snore at home. My sister is the only one to have heard me snore (Except for me. I woke myself up once).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 02- Okay, so not everyone knows not to say good morning to me. Fred said good morning. I think I said, "Murni'" Or something. She told me other stuff too, that I don't remember. I do remember saying, "'K"  to everything she said. And then she left.
I got ready, and headed down to the ballroom for Intermediate Jazz with Darryl.
A little more than halfway through the class, the building spontaneously combusted.

Well, not really. The fire alarm went off. There were little lights going off like camera flashes, and the fire alarm was all like, "Hawwwnk. Hawwwwnk. Hawwwnk." and the creepy voice told us to walk calmly to the nearest exit. I was kinda hoping the sprinklers would go off, because that would be totally fun, but they didn't.
We all walked calmly (Seriously, we actually did) to the nearest exit, which was out to the pool. We assumed the pool was the best place in case of fire. Because, you know, it's...full of water. It's not even all blocked in. There's a fire escape down to the street. But a hotel employee came out and told us that they were herding everyone out to the front, so we walked through the hotel, out the front door, waited for five seconds, and then we got to go back in.
And that was the adventure for the day.

At lunch I decided to make a little video blog. Because I had nothing better to do.

After lunch, we did an advanced musical theatre number to America from West Side Story. So fun. So hard. I almost died. I loved it. There were steps I had seen, but never done before, and I was really excited when I didn't have trouble with the steps themselves (The speed at which they were done, however...). That's something I really love about going to this convention. I get to try new things that I ordinarily wouldn't, and I know I haven't reached my limit yet. It's kind of a confidence booster. Okay, so there totally IS stuff I can't do. Like big giant leaps. And I usually can't do the splits. And I can only do six fouette turns the right (On the left, I can do exactly none). And I can't do an illusion. I would love to be able to do an illusion. THEY LOOK SO COOL.
I took a tap class with Becca (Well, that may have been Tuesday. I don't remember what day that was, and I don't have my schedule with me), and "Ballet Enlightenment" with Janice, which was just  a lecture. Ooh, and we did baby ballet with Becca. It's fun to do the little kid dances. Everyone loves to fly around the room like a butterfly.

There are two water coolers in the room. I LOVE WATER COOLERS. I will keep finding excuses to get drinks, until I can get the water cooler to make a bubble. You know. It happens eventually. A big bubble comes up from the bottom and goes, "Bla-DOOOOP!"
I freaking love that bubble.
I told Ms.Sue about it. She looked at me for a while.
"....You like the bubble?"
 *nodnodnodded*
"It doesn't take much with you."

Oh and Booty Shorts Man was back. He was also there the first day, but he wears capris for the first day. He's really really fit so it's not as bad as it COULD be, but still...men should not wear booty shorts. Ever. And as far as I can tell, he's not gay. He's got a Lady Friend and they're always holding hands, and flirting, and grabbing each other's butts. Maybe Lady Friend is the one who encourages the booty shorts. I don't know. She always wears pants.
(I'm not going to post a link or a picture here, in case Booty Shorts Man magically finds it. Who knows, he might Google himself. But I'll totally post a link to his site on my Facebook.)

That evening we went to BJ's Brewery (Shut up, dirty minded people).I had some chicken-y thing that was pretty tasty, but I dunno...the sauce got my gag reflex.  The entree was kind of Italian, so maybe that was it. I have an oversensitive gag reflex, and I'm pretty weird about it. Italian food is one of the major things that sets it off. So when I smell Italian food, I get all panicky.
But I digress (And now everyone knows I'm basically afraid of Italian food, which is weird).
So I saved room for dessert.
For dessert, I got a triple chocolate pazooki.
SO. DAMN. GOOD.
IT WAS HUGE.
IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.
AND OH SO CHOCOLATEY.
I ate 3/4 of it.
It was amazing.

Nothing else of interest happened that night.
We talked, and internetted, and watched the planes take off. Planes look so weird when they take off. They're all like, *ZOOOOOOOOOOOM* down the runway, and then they just kinda...float off. And The Blue Danube plays in my head.
I am very easily fascinated.
That night, Ms.Sue gave me earplugs. That helped a lot. I still didn't get to sleep until about 2,
though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 03 - Again I slept in, skipping the first class. In fact, I only went to one class that day, Advanced Ballet with Janice. It was some pretty difficult stuff. Things I could do on flat with practice, but it'll deinitely be a while before I can do that stuff on pointe without dying.
Ms.Sue got her picture taken with Janice, and I told Janice  she was awesome. I love watching her dance. She's tiny, and dainty, and ridiculously graceful. Even when she's just walking around she looks like she's dancing. I should figure out how to do that. (Hey Evan, "I need a new walk.")

After that class, we went upstairs, and packed up errything. I always check hotel rooms for stuff at least twice. Usually more. Because leaving stuff would be BAAAAAAAAAD. Or something. Even though if you haven't seen the missing object the first two room checks, it's probably something small and insignificant, like a pen, or a sock, and if you DO leave it, you won't miss it.
We got into the elevator with some businessmen, one of whom looked like a very skinny Santa Claus, and headed down to the lobby.
Ms.Sue complained about the internet, and was told that they know it sucks, and they are working on getting a new server. They didn't charge us for the internet, and gave Ms.Sue a coupon for a free drink and pastry. She got a Diet Pepsi, and the most expensive pastry they had (It was probably like,  $40 or something.  Well, maybe not. But I'll bet it was at least $6).

In the parking garage, I slammed my door. I love slamming the car door in a parking garage. The noise it makes is very satisfying. I told Fred I loved to slam car doors in parking garages.
"Why?"
"'Cause I love the noise it makes."
"You like the noise?"
"Uh-huh."
"It doesn't take much with you, does it?"

On the way home, we stopped at Braum's, in Hillsboro. Their ice cream is sooooooooo goooooood. :D
It was freaking cold in there. I had to go back out of the car and get my jacket. (I pretty much never carry a jacket around with me in Texas during the summer.I only had it because the Hyatt is always freakin' cold.)
After we ate, Ms.Sue and Fred went out to the car (Because they were freezing) and I stayed in to use the restroom. When I went to throw my trash away, my tray slipped out of my hand and fell into the trash. Being sleep-deprived, I found this hilarious. I was all, "Oops!...My tray just fell in the trash can. *hysterical laughter*" Yeah, I talk to myself. Sometimes even in crowded restuarants. There was some middle-aged guy watching me, looking amused. I'm glad I made his day more entertaining. I guess it would be weird to watch a teenage girl all dressed in black, talking to herself and laughing hysterically in front of a trash can. I possibly also said goodbye to the remains of my chocolate shake when I threw that away. I know I said SOMETHING to it.

We arrived back at the dance studio around 4 pm. I had called my Dad, and he was waiting to pick me up. I retrieved our recital DVDs, grabbed some bags, sent Dad to go get the rest, and opened the passenger side door on the truck.

And there was my cat.
He was in his kitty carrier, in the front seat, squeaking. It sounded a lot like, "Halloooooo?"
Needless to say I was rather surprised.


Ms.Sue met Bunny. He squeaked at her. I rode in the back seat with him. He was mostly okay, and looked like he was happy to see me, but he was also pretty freaked out. Cars aren't cool. He kept panting and squishing his face against the bars. It was pretty funny, but also kinda scary looking.



I arrived at home, released the Bunny (Who was still panting), greeted all my other kitties, saw my sister's new haircut (Which is cute, and makes her look even older. -____-) and met my sister's new guinea pig, Charlie (She didn't even know about Charlie the Drunk Guinea Pig. XD).

I slept for about ten and a half hours (BLISS) and still haven't unpacked.

Ladies and gentlemen, this has been another hilariously excellent three days at MusicWorks.
Hopefully you were at least mildly amused.


By the way, this was the width of our balcony. My feet are size six. When we  first drove up to the hotel, there was a  rather large woman on her balcony smoking. I have no idea how she got out there.

Okay, NOW it's the end.

Wednesday, July 06, 2011

The First Time He Died

 I’ll always look back fondly on the day we buried Evan alive.
 It was one of Emily’s birthday parties, and we were all upstairs playing “Funeral”. In Funeral, one person is the tombstone, who sits at the end of the grave and recites the date of birth, date of death, cause of death, and epitaph. The priest is all like, "They shall be greatly missed. Maybe. Probably not. Who is this, again?" The organist plays dramatic music. The widow either weeps loudly, or is like, "Yayyyy, he died! :D LIFE INSURANCE MONEEYYY!" The mourners weep. The more the widow pays them, the louder they weep. The corpse is usually just dead, but will occasionally sit up and ask what's going on. Somebody then clubs them over the head so the funeral can continue.
All of us little girls took turns playing all of the parts.
But eventually, we ran out of corpses.

 Evan came innocently upstairs, presumably to inform us that it was time for cake. I think he was even kind of smiling. He was probably trying to convey that he came in peace, with good tidings of cake and joy to all people.
But he never got to deliver his message.

 We needed corpses, and as the Big Brother, he was the ideal next victim.
We all grabbed onto him and shoved him into his grave (which was Emily’s bed. Also, this only worked because he didn’t resist). We declared him dead, and who ever was the tombstone that time declared that he had died from getting hit by an ice cream truck (I think).

 Evan wasn’t a very good corpse. He kept popping out of his grave, proclaiming he would agree to be dead only if he got a burger and fries. We promised him there would be a burger and fries waiting for him on the other side, and he died with a pleasant smile on his face. We buried him under the covers. I was the mourner. Possibly his widow, but I’m pretty sure I was just the paid mourner (I don't think I was paid much. I don't remember weeping very dramatically).
As we were finishing up his funeral, the adults downstairs realized that Evan’s message must have been interrupted, and called us down for cake. Of course, we gleefully abandoned our victim for sugar.

 I assume he dug himself up and come downstairs to receive cake, but I'm not really sure. He may have been up there munching on heavenly burgers and fries for all I know.

We were really messed up little kids.

Even better, this party was a sleepover, and we tried to bury the poor guy AGAIN the next morning.
He didn't let us.
Also I think he might've actually died at some point, because he doesn't remember any of this.

(This post makes me think of This Unskippable . There is most definitely language and violence in this cutscene. You have been forewarned.)

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Polite as a Princess (Or perhaps not)

(I apologize in advance for crappy typing. I have had very little sleep, and my ''a'' key is being eeeeeeviiiil.)

As a dance teacher, most of my work is done during the school year, and I spend all summer being a lazyass and despite taking medication, sleep at really odd hours (Because if you do nothing all day, sleep really is not required).

But to save dance teachers from doing absolutely nothing all summer, we go and have dance camp (And conventions, but that'll be a whoooole 'nother blog post). Dance camps have various themes, stuff like Under the Sea, maybe a ballet like Coppelia, Tinkerbell, the Princess and the Frog, or heck, maybe even something weird like cows (You never know. People are weird).

This is how some ballet friends and I ended up spending a few days as Disney Princesses. I was Ariel, because I am currently the only redhead at the studio who is not five years old (Plus, the other redhead just silently stares at you like "O.O").

Children are awed by Disney princesses. If you look remotely like a Disney princess, they will totally believe you are legit.

Of course, since I had been teaching them all week as Miss Mary, convincing them that I was really Ariel was kind of a stretch. The three year olds were no trouble at all. They were all like, "Whoooaah, our teacher is really Ariel! 8O"

The fours and fives are a bit more skeptical. They tend to be more like, "Pffft, you're faking. We can totally see your feet under your tail."
To which I'm all, "Didn't you see the end of the movie? I had legs. And in the second movie, I was a mermaid again.''
Roughly half were then convinced. But the other half was still skeptical.
I then told them I have a handsome prince, who carries me around stores when I have my tail, so I can shop.
The children decided that if I have a handsome prince, I must be legit, and mostly called me Ariel for the remainder of camp.

>:D

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away....
On the last day of camp, all the princesses get together, and have lunch. This year they decided to pay a visit to the local Chick Fil A, in costume (It was difficult to convince Cinderella to go along with it, but in the end she gave in. I think she secretly liked it).
Cinderella, Ariel, and Jasmine all piled into Belle's royal carriage (Or two-door car), turned on their favorite princess music. Nicki Minaj (Whom Ariel hadn't actually heard, as she mostly listens to metal and punk rock and good stuff like that), Lil' Wayne (Who seemed to be talking about random objects and swearing), and The Lonely Island (.....Yeaahhh. XD).

Princesses like to turn their music up really loud. They also sometimes like to roll down their windows and wave their hands out of them to call attention to themselves.

The Chick Fil A was freaking crowded.
The princesses got stared at a lot. Belle and Ariel liked this.
Cinderella and Jasmine are kind of chickens, so the princesses decided to get their food to go (Also, there was a little girl from the camp they just taught who was waving ecstatically).
Because Belle is a speed demon, the princesses arrived back at the studio in three seconds flat.
They had a picnic in the dance studio, and watched a wide variety of Youtube videos, ranging from "Malk" to "I Just Had Sex".

And they lived sexily ever after.
The last camp of the day went well. Nothing terrible happened, and nobody died. After camp, my sister came and took pictures.

So, sleep deprivation aside, it was a good week. I like working with the kids, I get paid, I get free lunch, and cupcakes.

I didn't even have to clean up the studio much, because The Boss had her granddaughter with her, and they just wanted to go home (And I'm certainly not sticking around if I don't have to. Though I'll help if she plans a work day, of course).

Now if you'll excuse me, Imma go sleep for a week.