Posted: January 31st, 2010 | Author: emily | Filed under: personal vignettes, washington | 1 Comment »
I have no qualms about passionately endorsing bizarre items in this blog, as any faithful reader should be well aware. (See: Taco Bell, Gatorade, karaoke, etc…) Well, here’s another one to add to the list:
I LOVE trampolines.
Don’t ask me to explain this. Surprise: I can’t even do any cool tricks on them. Besides “crack the egg” but that is not really a trick, more of a childhood game… I think my tramp-love stems from the fact that we never had one of those giant Costco trampolines in our backyard, so when we went to friend’s houses that had them, I just went hog wild with jealousy. (Lindsey knows what I am talking about.) Nothing has changed in adulthood; when my friend Jensine was housesitting a family homestead this fall, I came over to ostensibly keep her company, but I really just wanted to squeal and jump around their giant trampoline for hours on end.
Finally, for trampaholics like me, there is an even better way to score a jump fix: the semi-new Sky High Sports in Bellevue, Washington!
While SHS’s website features children a good 10+ years younger than me horsing around, let me assure you, this is a heaven for all ages. Their slogan cheekily inquires of me, “are you ready to bounce off the walls?” …my answer? A resounding YES.
One fateful Thursday afternoon, I donned an 80s terrycloth sweatband and saddled up alongside Jensine, Michaela, and Linn for an afternoon of tramping delight on the Eastside. We stopped at a creepy local minimart to fuel our impending athletic triumphs (= ate Chex Mix, Starburst, Gatorade G2, and some questionable deviled eggs). After consuming our healthy meal and paying an $11 admission fee to the freshly-turned-16 “bouncers” at the SHS front desk, we were ready to enter trampoline nirvana. I knew we had made the right choice when I noticed not one, but two Gatorade vending machines in the entryway. (Photographic evidence above. Yes, my tongue is stained from G2.) Once fully inside, we had our choice of: huge plain trampoline, dodgeball trampoline court, or trampoline track into a foam pit. The trinity of tramping pleasure! Of course, we had our go at all of the options. A rousing game of “monkey in the middle” was also cooked up after we’d had our fill of dodgeball.
Also of note for future visitors of Sky High Sports: everyone who works there is a vaguely sullen teenager. I feel like if I worked in a land of trampolines I would be eternally ebullient, but apparently not everyone reflects this attitude. To balance out this apathetic attitude, though, early-2000s music is blaring from the loudspeakers at all times. Does the early material of Kelly Clarkson and the Black Eyed Peas whip you into a frenzy of adrenaline? Then you’re in for a treat.
One more word of warning: as the site ominously declares, WEEKENDS SELL OUT! So you better get on the ball. Or tramp, as the case may be.
Posted: December 28th, 2009 | Author: emily | Filed under: personal vignettes, washington | 2 Comments »
I have been lazy about writing. Similarly, I was lazy about Christmas this year. I don’t know why I am so unmotivated lately, maybe it’s because I’m not ready for the year to be over yet, so I feel like if I do nothing time-worthy, time will not pass. Unfortunately, I don’t think it works that way. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Being that I am so lazy now, I am going to summarize my “holiday vacation” (aka going to Kent area for four days) in bullet points.
Because I know everyone is dying to hear about it.
- I forgot my toiletries bag in Seattle. (btw can we all agree that “toiletries” is a supremely awkward word?) Meaning I didn’t get to shave for four days. I realize I could have gone out and purchased a razor, but I was annoyed with myself and didn’t want to spend unnecessary money, so my punishment was no shaving. Bummer. That also means that I had to utilize the unsatisfactory supply of toiletries in my little brother’s bathroom. For four days I washed my face with “Gillette for Men! Bodywash and facial wash”… I don’t trust cleansing combos. I also smelled like a teenage boy. All in all… attractive.
- Obviously a top priority for my time off was to catch up on my filmgoing. I am finding myself woefully behind this season. BUT, guess what, at multiple theatres practically alllllll the good movies were sold out. I need to seriously consider Fandango or whatever. Sherlock Holmes? SOLD OUT. Up in the Air? SOLD OUT. Avatar? SOLD OUT. At the Renton Landing on 12/26, the only available walk-up ticket purchase was for Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakuel, which the 16-year-old box office attendant offered to me. When I found that out, I caustically remarked to her that I would voluntarily pay to NEVER have to see that movie. I don’t think she liked my attitude very much. But I didn’t like her suggestion to see the Chipmunks very much, so fair’s fair.
- I did, however, get into Nine. It didn’t live up to my (admittedly, ridiculously high) expectations.
- As always, I made these epic plans to meet up with all my old friends, and ended up seeing like… four people. I’m pretty bad at making that kind of stuff happen; unless I am directly called with specific plans, I will probably stay at my parent’s house, watching old Beverly Hills 90210 reruns for hours on end – my #1 activity when in Kent. That’s what my mom gets for subscribing to SOAPnet.
- Everyone made fun of me for receiving High School Musical 3: Extended Cut on DVD for Christmas (and viewing it twice in a row, whatever guys!). Haters can hate, I’m watching regardless. Although… what does it mean that I had to struggle to hold back tears when Troy Bolton declares his college decision during the “Senior Year” curtain call? I don’t think it says anything good, that’s for sure.
- Some things never change. I got in trouble for ruining the new cherrywood coffee table in my mom’s living room. I spilled nail polish remover on it. Oops. What are you gonna do, ground me?!?! Not anymore! (No, honestly I feel pretty bad about it. But it’s slightly amusing that no matter how old I get, I can still manage to break and/or damage the furniture and ruin my mom’s perfect world. This is why I personally purchase all my furniture at Value Village.)
- I ate a lot of red meat, drank a lot of whiskey & wine, and basically embraced gluttony. It was good while it lasted, but now I feel pretty gross about myself. No one needs to eat an entire party bag of Christmas-foiled Rolos over the course of one weekend. (Funny how when Grace remarked that “from your blog and Facebook entries, you don’t give off the impression that you are nutritionally responsible” I got really defensive….) I still maintain it’s less shameful than Jordan’s jalapeno chip consumption rate.
- I finally saw The Hangover cause my family rented it. Now people can stop saying to me, “You’ve never seen The Hangover?!?!?!?!?!??!” … joke’s on you, I have now. And it made me want to go back to Vegas real bad. (Cautionary tales fly straight over my head.)
Posted: November 2nd, 2009 | Author: emily | Filed under: california, travel, washington | 4 Comments »
Here I am.
Back in Seattle.
Wow, my enthusiasm is palpable, isn’t it?
While most people who just returned from a whirlwind trip would probably be exhausted and head straight to bed, I have priorities. And by “priorities” I mean “an addiction to the internet”… as we all can imagine, I packed a LOT of debauchery into my five days in Los Angeles, and to be honest I really can’t get into everything right now. One surprising aspect of my trip that I would like to address before I can sleep: how much I fuckin MISSED my old homestate! (Can you say “homestate” like “hometown” ? Maybe? We’re just going to go with it because it sounds less awkward than “Place I was born, then left, then returned and spent a few shockingly unproductive years in during my late teens/early 20s.”) I’m starting to develop intense anxiety about the possibilities of crafting a successful career in writing/entertainment in Seattle, I mean let’s be honest, it’s not exactly a hotbed of entertainment industry opportunities.
To allay my conflicting feelings about Washington vs. California, let’s do one of my favorite things EVER: making a pros/cons list! (Since my scribbling on a yellow legal pad can’t be published online, we’ll just go with this blog post.)
WASHINGTON
+ I already live here, so that’s convenient
+ Tons of friends/family here who I would miss terribly
+ I’m pretty into Husky football this year
+ The natural splendor of the Pacific Northwest (cause, you know, I spend so much time doing outdoorsy activities and don’t at all squander opportunities to enjoy my surroundings, instead choosing to watch TV on DVD and drink cheap alcohol and then sending inappropriate texts to people. With the heater blasting and the blinds closed and all the lights on.)
- I can’t find a full-time job that satisfies my talents and ambitions
- RAIN and COLD
- Bigfoot/ Sasquatch (yeah, obviously he’s cool in theory, but what if I get attacked?!? While I am enjoying all my aforementioned time in the wilderness of Washington, of course.)
- Less celeb sightings (basically… only have met Dave Matthews like 6 times and that’s about it.)
- No palm trees or Roscoes (my new obsession, obv) or swap meets or LA Tigers (other new obsession)(so I guess what I’m saying by this “con” of WA is that it’s too classy for me, because I just like ghetto/hilarious/AMAZING things that only LA culture can provide.)
- You can only purchase hard A in government-run liquor stores here.
CALIFORNIA
+ Warm warm warm weather (it was in the 80s today. Thank YOU)
+ Suck it mom & dad, the rest of my family lives in San Diego so I’ll still have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving. (Clearly, planning the rest of my life around where I will be to eat a delicious Thanksgiving feast is logical and necessary. I’m kinda like Seth Cohen when it comes to this holiday. PS I attempted to find a YouTube of his hilarious Thanksgiving tirade from “The Homecoming” but apparently it DOES NOT EXIST and I am outraged.)
+ Um, speaking of The OC, I can secretly pretend I’m actually living inside that TV show. Whereas in Seattle I can only pretend I’m in Grey’s Anatomy, and that doesn’t enhance my (fantasy) life at all.
+ In general, the people are more attractive. Seattle, get offended all you want, but if you have been to Southern CA you KNOW I am right!! Get it together! In turn, this will encourage me to take better care of MYself because I will feel more societal pressure to be beautiful. Instead of sitting here in sweatpants eating leftover Halloween candy. Basically I am endorsing redevelopment of an eating disorder and/or an intense drug problem, and really who can argue with those activities?!
+ CELEBRITIES
+ A ton of incredible people who are so so far away from Seattle, it’s pretty heartwrenching…
+ My super-legit alma mater, Cal State Fullerton! Represent! (While grabbing that link, I visited the website only to found that it’s been totally redesigned! Way to step it up, Titans!)
+ I mentioned Roscoes already, right? (Kinda negating the previous point of wanting to be in good shape for LA hottiez, but we’ll go with it.)
- Housing is even more expensive than Seattle
- You have to spend a lot of time in the car, driving EVERYWHERE, and if you know me you know I hate to drive and don’t even own a car
- I hear that eating disorders & drugs are dangerous. Then again I do live life on the edge in general.
- Everyone in Seattle will be hellllllllllllllla pissed off if I leave. The city will never be the same.
- If I relocated yet again and didn’t instantly achieve the wild levels of success I KNOW I DESERVE, I will sink into a deep depression and feel really embarrassed and probably weave this huge web of lies about my fake career to the people back in Seattle, then collapse under the pressure of maintaining the lies and it will just be a HUGE trainwreck for everyone.
- I might have to start going tanning and/or get a nose job. OR BOTH and I just don’t have that kind of money right now!
So, really… those are the only aspects about both locales I need to consider. And thankfully I’m a very logical and linear person, so I should easily be able to decide where I ~*~truly belong~*~ … to close, since I am too lazy to upload any California pics yet, here’s more Seth for us all to enjoy. I have many, many stories about the vacation, along with some horrendously embarrassing photos I’ll have to publicly display (because I am a masochist, apparently) but those will have to wait until later.
Posted: October 8th, 2009 | Author: emily | Filed under: personal vignettes, washington | 5 Comments »
Since I have recently been picking up a fair amount of writing work, I haven’t been writing here as much. I mean, when I am getting paid to blog by other people, it’s hard to convince myself to spend time doing it for free for my own enjoyment. Come on.
I decided I needed to escape my high-stress, fast-paced, career-driven lifestyle as a 2osomething doing part-time freelancing out of her house in Ballard. The way I was headed, I would surely experience at least one heart attack by 25. I took a little “me” time and hightailed it to a place near and dear to my heart, a darling resort town in the southend known as “Kent.”
BEAUTIFUL!
My high school BFF, Jordan, was in town from Miami for one week only, so we had to take advantage of this fact and live it up while we could. That meant reuniting in our hometown of Kent and sleeping on her couch, mostly. It also meant me attempting to force Jordan, her sister Justine, and our friend AJ to drink vodka-spiked Gatorade at a frat party in Kirkland (obviously). It also meant A CERTAIN PERSON bingeing on Jack in the Box at 3am, claiming she “only wanted a bite” of the two tacos, large curly fries, and spicy chicken sandwich she ordered, then inhaling it all before we reached her driveway. (Except for a mayonnaise-soaked bun she decided to throw at me and then toss out the window, forever leaving Justine’s car with mayo-stained glass, since we were all too lazy to clean it off.)
One of the advantages of being friends with Jordan is that she is part Chinese. While this may at first seem like a dubious honor, you are forgetting one important fact: free, authentic, Chinese food. I detest shit like Panda Express, but real Chinese, especially dim sum with her family in the International District, is amazing! Steamed shrimp things, sweet bean things, spongy pork things, fried vegetable things… they are all so delicious… and clearly my 10-year relationship with Jordan and her family has afforded me a strong grasp on the specific names and ingredients of Chinese food.
Another advantage of having a Chinese friend is their relatives who say funny things. We’ve all heard of
Engrish.com and whatever, but nothing compares to the real thing. In this case, Jordan’s grandmother… one word: AMAZING. She has a difficult time pronouncing certain words, and attempts to make up for it by adding an extra “-ee” sound at the end of them. (Because
that makes it more understandable.) A couple in particular are especially juicy.
EXAMPLE ONE:
Jordan puts her purse on the floor of the restaurant.
Grandma: “Don’t put your puuss-ee on the floor! Someone steal your puuss-ee!”
Everyone else: “HAHAHAHA WHAT”
Grandma: “You have to be careful with your puuss-ee, Jordan!”
…It’s true. She does.
Later there was more talk of why you can’t leave your puss-ee in the car, and how Jordan and Justine were sharing a puss-ee because Jordan’s was really big… but I think those jokes can tell themselves by this point.
EXAMPLE TWO:
We go to the Chinese bakery to get some hum bao to go.
Grandma: “How much you want?”
Jordan & Justine: “We can split a dozen.”
Grandma: “What kind you want?”
Justine: “I want pineapple.”
Jordan: “I want some of the steamed pork buns.”
Grandma: “Steamed?! NO!?!?!??!”
Jordan: “Yeah, the steamed ones!”
Grandma: “STEAMED BUN NO HERE!!!!!!!!!!”
Emily: “HAHAHHAHAHAH Jordan, you just got shut DOWN.”
Back to the pineapple bun ordering. Grandmother is attempting to get six for each of them… however, the word “six” seems to be a roadblock…
Grandma: “You half each. Sex-ee, sex-ee.” (while dramatically and frantically pointing to Jordan and Justine)
Jordan & Emily: “What?!? Ha ha.”
Grandma: “Sex-ee sex-ee pineapple. SEX-EE SEX-EE PINEAPPLE!!!!!” (increasingly aggressive pointing, now at the display case)
Jordan & Emily: “HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH SEXY PINEAPPLE”
Yes, we have the maturity of 12 year olds, what’s your point?
It is possible that their grandmother knows perfect English but is just super horny and repressed, so her only way to express herself is through fake broken language. I dunno.
The rest of our Kent Retreat was spent sleeping more… eating more… drinking beer, dressing in school colors, and watching college football at the Ram… spending an ungodly amount of time at the Seahawks team stores looking at jerseys… and hanging out at the food court of the
Muckleshoot Casino in Auburn. (Because we are all poor and lazy, so opted to eat multiple baskets of $3 fries. If you put money into a slot machine, who knows what will happen? But if you invest in some fries, you know your taste buds are SURE to WIN.)
And look! It worked! The draught is over; spending two whole days and nights in Kent, Washington provided me with a cornucopia of inspiration. Thank you, Kent. That strip-mall ridden suburb is clearly the gift that keeps on giving.
Posted: July 26th, 2009 | Author: emily | Filed under: travel, washington | 1 Comment »
My choices this month have really opened up my mind to new possibilities. The chief dilemma I am working on solving is this: Am I a trashy person?
Of course anyone reading this would automatically cry “NO!!!!!” but it’s okay, friends. I have accepted the possibility, and you can, too. I used to think that I couldn’t be trashy just because I am an intelligent person with a solid middle-class background (although that background is anchored in Kent and Renton; hmm…) but the more I ponder my situation, the more evidence I find to the contrary. Unfortunately, natural intelligence does not negate questionable behavior.
I knew it was getting bad when at brunch yesterday, my friend commented upon my guzzling of a pitcher of mimosas (after an early morning breakfast of Bud Light):
“Emily, you are getting to be really trashy.”
My defense?
“What?!? Look, I have a real Dior wallet!”
Pretty weak. I admit it. And I think Joe’s response summarizes it perfectly:
“…yeah. A paper-thin veneer of class…”
So in order to delve further into this issue, I need to take things on a step-by-step basis. Let’s inspect aspects of my lifestyle that could, to some, be considered trashtastic.
Today’s hot topic: PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION.
I don’t own a car. Honestly, I can’t really afford to buy one at this point. And even if I could buckle down and save up to purchase a cheap one, I definitely can’t afford insurance, payments, gas, the guaranteed barrage of parking tickets, the possible lawsuit after I hit a pedestrian… I mean, these are risks I’m just not willing to take. Also, with the amount of alcohol I usually am “celebrating” with throughout my travels, getting behind the wheel is a death sentence.
If anyone asks why I don’t have one, though, I tell them I’m being eco-friendly and don’t support the oil industry, it’s wasteful to put all those emissions into the air if I have another option, etc etc etc… what a ridiculous facade. Everyone knows I have practically no convictions. But I think we can all agree it’s way better to pretend to care about the planet rather than admit I am just poor, lazy, usually at least kinda drunk, and spend my money on more impractical investments, like vintage cameras I’ll never figure out how to use and fitness magazines that will never actually inspire me to work out.
I knew it was getting bad this weekend when I became one of those bus people: I was lugging not one but two sparkly lamé duffel bags to haul around my crap. Not only that, but I was carrying a pillow and tasseled yarn throw blanket (because I was planning on sleeping at my friend’s apartment and couldn’t find a sleeping bag or any normal bedding). On top of this, I was yelling at my iPhone because it was running out of battery power and I was trying desperately to make a call before it died. (So clearly, screaming “Please just WORK!!!” into the sky will give my phone more power. I guess I shouldn’t have wasted a fully charged battery sending about 80 drunken and humiliating text messages to a large collection of people who have the misfortune of being my “friends.”)
As I boarded the bus, I thought to myself, “Oh crap, it’s so crowded, I hope I don’t have to sit next to any sketchy people who smell bad or look like they might try to make conversation with me or awkwardly hit on me…” Then I realized something. I, for no real reason, was carrying around a closet full of clothes in tacky bags and some heavy blanket during broad daylight while lecturing an inanimate object. Yikes. I’m positive someone saw me boarding the bus and thought, “Oh crap, it’s so crowded, I hope that girl with the bleach-blonde hair and huge hangover sunglasses and weird bags of clothes and creepy blankets who is muttering into her dead cell phone doesn’t have to sit next to me.”
Seattle Metro. The great equalizer. Everybody is somebody’s “oh crap” and I really took it to a new level this weekend. Trash? You be the judge…
Posted: May 29th, 2009 | Author: emily | Filed under: drinking, travel, washington | 1 Comment »
I recently returned from a lovely camping expedition. A handful of friends and I decided to spend Memorial Day weekend out east in the Gorge at
Sasquatch! Festival. While we enjoyed hot weather, beautiful desert landscape (or what seems like intense desert to people from western Washington), breathtaking views of the Gorge, and of course an abundance of exciting live music, the real memories were cultivated back at our campsite.
Appears pretty innocuous, right? Wrong. This campsite turned out to be a hotbed of debauchery, embarrassment, and trashy denim outfits.
Although… if we’re being fair, I shouldn’t blame the campsite as much as I should blame alcohol and the questionable decision making skills of myself and my companions. Specifically, the combination of the two.
Here are some highlights (…lowlights?) that occurred in our three days of freedom out on the range:
- Within the first couple hours of “popping the tent” (as we hardcore campers like to call it), I “lost” both my ticket and my left flip-flop on the way back from the outhouses.
- I found my ticket in the front pocket of the overalls I was wearing at the time… after my friends helped me tear apart the site searching for it… I think everyone was less than pleased with me at this point in the trip. The next day, my missing shoe was found in the snack bin. Reaching for a handful of Costco-brand trail mix and ending up with a mouthful of deliciousness AND a black Haviana, now that’s what I call a good morning.
- A traveling drug salesman attempted to interest us in some illegal substances, unfortunately for him he was approaching the wrong campsite. I decided that approximately 100 bottles of beer would be sufficient for the weekend and wanted to get rid of this hippie right away; I recited the FDA food pyramid to him instead (to demonstrate my commitment to a healthy lifestyle and NOT his questionable wares) and he rewarded me with a free granola bar! Naturally, I am suspicious of anything free from an unknown individual, so I did not eat it. It’s probably laced.
- What DID I eat, you ask? Well, I sadly yet impressively developed a new and improved food pyramid. Its base consists of Fat Tire and PBR, while its middle tier is filled with varied salted nuts, M&Ms, and an assortment of packaged snack chips. Its tip is comprised of warm Ketel One, children’s Clif Bars, and Sparks Lite.
- The pièce de résistance of our trip memories occurred when an unnamed member of our troop (I must emphasize: NOT ME for once) imbibed about 6 PBRs before noon, went to take a nap in the warm van, and emerged a short while later, projectile vomiting into the grass. When another friend went to check on this unfortunate incident, in her haste she ended up stepping in the vomit with her bare feet.
THIS WILL BE A TREASURED MEMORY FOR THE REMAINDER OF MY LIFE. I can assure you that.
While my recollection of the trip will be tinged with visions of van vomit, warm malt liquor-induced stomachaches, and the unwelcome addition of the Honey Bucket to my daily routine, I will also hold dear in my heart the beauty of Washington and the array of music I enjoyed over the vacation. Seriously.
I would especially like to thank M83, of Montreal, the Avett Brothers, Crystal Castles, and my eternally beloved Girl Talk for encouraging some relaxed dancing and entertaining me and my drunkass friends during this trip of delight. I would especially NOT like to thank the makers of sodium (so.. God?) for making every nonperishable camp snack so saltily delicious and addicting and only adding to my dehydration in the 90° weather.
holla back