Sure, Ste. Gen. is small. And boring. And yes, I had to yield the right-of-way to a lady on a horse yesterday.
But -- and this is a big "but" for me -- SG has THREE gas stations with drive-thru windows. This means you can drive up and order a 32 oz. fountain soda and a pack of smokes, and they HAVE to get it for you! Do you know how much I would pay for that kind of service in STL?
Also, is this not the cutest baby in the history of babies?
This little cutie belongs to my girl Angela. Only one person at lunch thought I was the dad.
I'm finally listening to the newest Bright Eyes album. I'm like eight months late, but guess what, I'm also just getting around to the newest Arcade Fire. I'm like the worst fake hipster ever.
I also just joined a gay bowling league. But it's like supergay. The president wears a different wig for each frame. For real.
I won a raffle on our first night for the "strike bowl." They drew my ticket and if I'd bowled a strike, I would have won five hundred dollars. Everyone watched. I knocked over seven pins.
At least it wasn't a gutter.
Speaking of, I wanted our team name to be "The Gutter Sluts."
I was vetoed. We're the Gutter Punkz. Yeah, with a "z."
I'd post pics, but I'm waiting on Dave to send me the good non-blurry ones.
My public was clamoring for more posts from me (okay, so it was just Kari, but still, it's nice to be wanted), so here I am on New Year's Day, trying to think of stuff that's happened in the past month or so.
I could write about spending time with my family, how the kids just keep getting cuter and funnier.
How my mom really needs to wrap just one gift at a time and then put the nametag on immediately after.
I could write about my Christmas in Ste. Genevieve, how I spent Xmas Eve in a bar with dead animals on the wall. And yet Feist was on the jukebox.
Or the party we went to later that night, where some dude from the SG called me Al-Qaeda. Or how the same guy ended up O.D.-ing the next day.
Or how Miranda and I decided our new catchphrase is going to be "To Completion!?"
I could write about my new apartment and the haunted radiator, or the fact that the glare on my monitor is a brand new phenomenon, since it's been cloudy and/or dreary for the past two weeks straight.
I could write about FINALLY getting to watch the weed episode of The Facts of Life again, after like, 20-something years, and still thinking it's mean that the writers made Natalie buy a bong to store her junk food supply.
I could write about the parties I went to last night, how I was way overdressed to be playing Guitar Hero III or taking before-and-after pics of Brandon's crotch. (It was innocent, I promise). I did have lot of fun, though, don't get me wrong.
How have I never heard of that tradition where you write something down that you want to be over with in the new year, then you throw the piece of paper in the fire?
Anyway, I look forward to the end of the Writers' Strike any day now. You're welcome!
