My afternoon began with my most favorite thing ever, a trip to the dentist! And I find out that after all these years of immaculate dental hygeine, I have a cavity. So I got drilled and filled and sent on my merry way with that strange sensation(?) of not being able to detect half of my face. Certainly an interesting feeling, but one that I happen not to like.
With the strong possibility of moving to Boston approaching, I have been making it my goal to hang out with everyone I know as much as possible. Tonight I was driving around with my cousin and her friend. Near her house is a subdivision where everybody goes (or went) absolutely crazy with Christmas lights and decorations. I remember being through there a couple years ago and coming out night-blind, but they seem to have gotten much more subdued, with a few exceptions. The most notable was this blinding house complete with a Noah’s Ark, a helicopter with rotating (sequentially-activated light strings) blades, lights and lights and lights suspended from fishing line, seeming to just float over the entire yard, and the house played MUSIC. Freaky, saccharine-sweet nondenominational holiday music, from a well-concealed bullhorn (well, sounded like one, anyway). What I was really hoping to see was the house with a Santa Claus in an electric chair hanging upside-down from a tree, with strobe light aimed at the noggin for that nifty zap-zap effect. Not to sound evil or anything, but seeing this display a couple years ago next to all the neighbors’ frilly holiday decorations was for some reason deeply amusing. Alas, no Santa execution display this year.
After that we followed some really bad directions that took us way the hell out of my know-where-I-am area (Ogden Ave headed in the general direction of Mexico) in search of more crazy lighting people, but didn’t find them–navigated back to my area by dead reckoning, greatly concerning my passengers who had even less idea where they were. You live, oh, about that direction (pointing to some trees), so we’ll try this street. Don’t worry folks, I know what I am doing.
Arriving safely back in my native habitat, we stopped at Burger king and had some grub, betting on whether we could get ourselves kicked out for some physics demonstrations involving Bernoulli’s principle and Coca-Cola. Afterward, what do ordinary citizens do late at night shortly before Christmas? Why, sneak into supposedly-haunted old graveyards of course. So, we spent an icy-cold hour or so in Bachelor’s Grove, shooting the BS in hushed voices and trying to scare each other. What gave ME the shivers, though, wasn’t just the cold or the graveyard, but this dude my cousin was with bragging about all these drugs he’s done, what he wants to do next, getting expelled for speed in school, and so forth. Not that it’s any of my business to begin with, but one can’t help but feel a little bit concerned.
After all this we ended up in some suburbs of Riverside. Not to disparage any city planners anywhere, but I don’t think the roads there are laid out with the intention of being driven on. They’re designed to increase the perceived size of the neighborhood, because you can drive for 3 hours in any combination of directions without actually getting out of the place. Furthermore, they probably spell out something naughty when viewed from the air :-)
QOTD: Well, if I were this guy, I’d come up and haunt you for assing on my gravestone.
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