3.29.11 #2

I was at FHE for about 30 seconds when my friend Andy said hi to me, followed with, "You working tonight? No? Wanna go to the Nickelcade?"

What do you think I said?

We played Ninja Turtles, NBA Jam (or something to that effect. I lost by 2. Bummer.), Cruisin' the World, Dr. Mario (I killed, obviously), air hockey, Deal or No Deal (we got 20 tickets), some crazy shoot-em-up game based in India where you simultaneously kill giant spiders and giant leeches, while being told how compatible you are with the person sitting next to you (78%, apparently). We gambled a lot of the nickels away (it always pays off in the end. But for all you young, impressionable people *cough*Catherine*cough* gambling is bad), and played skeeball, of course! And with 2 nickels left, we tried out Golden Axe. Best choice we ever made. First of all, it only cost 1 nickel to play. Secondly, we played for close to 5 minutes without dying, and thirdly, Andy's character had a dwarf on his back from the start — a dwarf! — and we stole a giant, rideable preying mantis from some crippled warrior. Like I said, best choice ever.

After all the nickels were gone, we counted up our tickets (250, and actually, a machine counts them for you. Crazy technology these days) and got fake mustaches and a back-scratcher. Made in China, no less.

The Nickelcade is amazing. I think when I get married, I'm gonna have the reception at the Nickelcade. No, for reals, that would be SWEET!

Groucho Marx and Luigi's estranged wife.

Tom Selleck? No, Andy Allred.

The back-scratcher doubles as a mustache comb. What a deal, right?


I had my eyes dilated a week ago at my eye appointment. First time ever. Really strange experience. When I got home I couldn't help but take some pictures of my creepy eyes. (I'm pretty sure horror movie writers got some of their visual ideas from seeing people with dilated eyes. And squirrels. Squirrels look like this.)

In case you were wondering, my eyes are doing a little worse than last year, but only by -0.25 ... Whatever that means. Oh, and I have an astigmatism in my right eye. I don't know what that means either. What I DO know is that I bought two new pairs of glasses and am quite looking forward to wearing them in a couple weeks when they come in the mail. Ah, the beauty of doctor-prescribed accessories. :o)


Dialogue practice.
March 18, 2011
[Don't make fun of me, that's why this is called "practice."]

"I go to a school out in New Jersey," he said, staring in to the bonfire, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans.

"New Jersey, huh? Is it just any school, or are we talking Princeton or ..."

"Yeah, I go to Princeton."

"Oh ..." I hadn't expected that, and my weak response made that fact obvious.

"Wow, you really do? And you weren't going to say it until I asked. How very humble of you." My added response seemed to smooth over the strange pause I'd caused by slathering a dose of sarcasm and genuine interest onto the faltering conversation. (I flatter myself, really, but it still seemed to do the trick.)

"It always comes out in the end, " he admitted, glancing out of the corner of his eye at me before examining a stick on the ground with his foot, pushing the blackened twig back and forth with the white rubber sole of his worn-out blue Vans.

"You act ashamed of your accomplishment," I noted out loud.

"More just tired of people being impressed by the name."

"Ah, so you go there, but you got in because of your family and stay in by cheating off your classmates, but you don't actually feel worthy of bearing its name across an over-priced sweatshirt?"

A wad of laughter fell out of his mouth, loosening his clenched jaw. He shook his head. But rather than out of denial, it was a symbol of relieved admittance to unspoken truths. Or at least, some truths.

"I'm not a good cheater. It's easier to study, at least for me."

His attempt at humor was lacking.

"What about the sweatshirts?" I couldn't help but throw him a bone of opportunity for another try at wit.

"Oh, I'm worthy of the name. But I'm allergic to the polyester they mix in with the cotton ..."

"That didn't —"

"— make sense. I know." His failure at wit was saved by an admission of ineptitude, which ultimately made his comment a success.

"Princeton would never use polyester."

And with that he bid me a goodnight and went back to New Jersey.

[Based on a real conversation with a real Princeton boy.]


I made this. Not for anyone in particular, I just had the Weezer song stuck in my head.

© 2011 e.gosney


Do you have one of those shirts that you put on in an attempt to transport yourself, even for a moment, into another time or place or life, or all three?

Yeah, me either.

That is, I didn't until this week. See, I bought shirt last week — on sale with an additional discount, no less — and it makes me want to escape to a beach house with white walls and blue couches, a big porch and even bigger windows that look out into a cloud-spotted sky and the ocean that stretches out for infinity.

Who knew a shirt could invoke such a strong desire?


Quick designs at 3:35 a.m.

© 2011 e.gosney

3.12.11 #2

Soleil wanted to celebrate 311 Day (March 11), which meant listening to 311 (their a band, in case you were confused) and making pizza and brownies. No worries, the brownies didn't have any pot in them. We also wore creeper glasses and did creeper moves. (Look it up on YouTube. "Do the Creep.") It was quite fun, quite fun.

Elizabeth, Soleil and Dillon

Dillon had the added bonus of a Chester-the-Molester mustache.

The following pictures were stolen from Dillon's Facebook page. Don't report me.

Making the (non-pot) brownies.


I had one goal for today's Rex Lee 5K Run: Don't stop to walk. And I didn't. So, booyah. And even though I only finished about 5 minutes before the first 10K runner came in, I didn't walk.

Please forgive my face. It was early (for me) and, well, you already know I have a gimp face.

Katie and me at the beginning.

Thomas and me. (He didn't run it, he can do a lot more than 3.1 miles, but he came to support me. What a good brother!)

Thomas and me after the race, at his apartment. 

At home, marinating in my stench. Mmmm, boy. 

I didn't get pictures with everyone I'd hoped -- I cut it kinda close having to go home and get my bib (number) because I forgot it. Thus, I was later to the starting line and had to forgo pictures. Bummer. But I got one with Thomas, who is the reason I started training for a 5K and why I want to continue running. Like I said, I have an awesome brother. 

Next up: 10K. 
Maybe next year. :o)


For the first time in a long time I have more in my checking and savings accounts than I owe on my credit card.

It's a good feeling.

Unfortunately my sleeping habits are "in the red," so to speak.

As in, it's 3:52 a.m. and I feel only slightly tired.

I got up at 1:30 yesterday. In the afternoon.

I feel justified, seeing as I get off work at 11:30 p.m.

But that justification goes out the window when I spend the hours from midnight until 3 watching Netflix videos. Or "You've Got Mail" for the 100th time. (I love that movie, but it still baffles me as to why, exactly.)

My molars hurt. My eye lids are dry. I guess I should go to bed.

And a video for any of you shmoes who haven't seen this yet. And because it's even funnier at 4:03 a.m.


I utilized my camera yesterday. Take a look. [ahjunkphotography.blogspot.com]