“The hand could be holding anything." -Rob "That's the great thing about life!" -Peter “Eeewwwww.” -me
—6/29/06
“Well, we could be dead!”
—my Mom, 6/24/06, at the Saints game
“Let's all go downtown / I got friends doing nothing but hanging around / well / I feel like there's something I could be missing”
—Sheryl Crow, Superstar
June 29 , 2006
Summer summer summer
time 8:36 pm feeling great wearing a shirt music Sheryl Crow reading e (seriously) ready for clean apt...but it's not happening next cupcakes???
Better update before June is over. I actually have/had an update regarding Al's newest cinematic venture goin' on, but I've yet to finish it so who knows what that means. Either way, 'tis time.
So could I be happier. I just saw two episodes of The Office (including the one where Jim sprays Michael and Dwight with the water bottle, ha ha ha!!) and had the best dinner—turkey burger, sweet potato fries, romaine salad, and beer. Yum. Oh how it is to live in America, land of the free and plenty. And I can't decide if it's totally sad or completely awesome how happy some good food can make me, but I'll let YOU BE THE JUDGE. Hah.
We've been insanely busy at work but not without time for an occasional, random meeting of the 'interactive department' (aka Rob, Peter, and myself), the giving of gifts by the African cleaning man to our very pregnant Jackie, and the declaration of next Monday off as well as off at 12 every Friday from here on out (that is, as long as no one calls at 11 with a so-called emergency—a totally possible and past scenario). I am the most spoiled biz-natch this side of the Mississippi (but which side???). I plan to celebrate this tomorrow by attempting to hit up some lap swimming by riding my bike to Jim Lupient Water Park. Vamos a ver, no?
My parents visited last weekend and we had a really good time. They didn't get here until 2390531246 hours past my Dad's bedtime on Friday, but all was well as it gave me plenty of time to cook up some chocolate chip cookies. Saturday my Dad got some golfing in while my Mom and I slept like dead people and then we hit up Home Depot for a grill (which we decided to give to Jeff). A few rainshowers later, we were tailgating at Midway Stadium, waiting to see the Saints take on the Explorers. Oh yeah! Go Saints!
Unfortunately they lost, which is extremely unforunate if you know the whole story—they tied it up after being behind 4-1 just as it began to downpour like there was no tomorrow. My Mom was miserable, almost everyone in the whole place left, but we just HAD to see who would win. Indeed. Finally after going into the 11th inning the Saints gave up four runs and we were done. Headed home freezing cold and wet but still very merry. Nothin' like some low-key baseball and grilling out to make for a great Saturday evening.
Sunday they insanely decided we should look at houses (WHY? I never get the answer to these things but I'll try to forget that part of it), because my Dad is addicted to reading about real estate and saw some listing in Powderhorn he decided we had to look at. I think he secretly wants to buy and sell land (like his used car secret dream, and like his stock trading in the late '90s. But don't get the wrong idea. My Dad's a smart guy.), and beyond that is another person (along with oh let's see, my coworkers, my boss, my non-friends, etcetc) who is anti-renting. But that's okay. The house(s) (we saw more than one, naturally) were ADORABLE, tiny, and dollhouse-like. We could make a believer out of me after all I suppose.
Sunday night I headed over to Sarah Ke's for some fajitas and strawberry shortcake and good times. Peter, Susan, and AK were all there, and it was a fine time to see everyone. Sarah is ever the gracious hostess and these random encounters of late have been both pleasant and encouraging. Life goes on.
Yes, it does.
.....
So once again music and my IISC (Incredible Internet Stalking Capabilities - and no, I am NOT proud of this, it's just the truth) have contrived to make me reminisce yet again. I am such a chump. Anyway this time it's more music than anything, so don't worry your little heart out. This black-and-white Sheryl Crow CD (don't laugh, I seriously have like four of her CDs I believe...I think I just like to sing along, hahaha [again no laughing is necessary at this point].) is more than anything a part of summer 1998 and everything that went along with it. And that was one fine summer.
Now, if we're being fair, it's pretty clear that the best summer EVER was summer 1999, but we knew that/know about that already (just like the pudding in the basement in the winter of 2000), so I'll spare you. But there was something liberating and free and just fun about that summer in 1998. And this CD was of course the ever-present soundtrack (until Lilith came to kick me into junior year, but that's another story entirely), and so there you have it. Stuck in time I am.
Despite having just come off the Bri-end fiasco (boo), the Dans-TWIRP, and a year of acquiring licenses, not to mention moronic sophisiticated sophomoricNESS, the summer was surprisingly low-key for our Jefferson-centered half of the eventual TGs. (If you don't know what this is and for some sick reason care to find out, you can go back and read.) As we would later find out, some crazy-ass shite was going down over in the Toki area that set up everything else, but we were clueless. We were just Katie, Lauren, and Lexi. And Beth, from time to time, before she headed off to France. And...someone else? I can't remember. I just remember gymnastics.
Ah yes, gymnastics, both working at and working out in those gyms, that fateful year before year one of level 9, the deathtrap for which I was never prepared, and the joy I woke up for each morning. I poured my heart into it, though not as much as I could have I suppose, and spent those morning hours from 8 (yes,it was at 8 am that summer) on cashing in on what I'd set out to do - fake-kick some ass. Hah. But beyond the circuit, the conditioning, the new desperation at acquiring some godforsaken level 9 skills, there was a twist. I was secretly working out somewhere else for a couple of hours a week as well.
Yes, I worked AND worked out at two gyms that summer. After getting the shaft (IMO of course) from Badger for hours, I sought out the aid of other area gyms, and a most welcoming Madison Turners gym on the EAST side (which used to seem soooooo far away; that is just sad Lexi, sad sad sad) hired me on to not just work there but COACH their LEVEL FIVE TEAM that summer.
So. I was 16, a newly minted driver, a rather young coach as it goes, and with not much experience to my name. But did any of that fail me? Did they doubt me? Did any of the Level 5s give me the evil eye? No! I took names, I kicked ass, I was IN CHARGE in that gym. They even gave me keys and I locked up every night I was there, carefully putting away equipment and lovingly folding mats before I left as if it were my very own gym. Needless to say, this was complete and utter bliss (and I can't imagine how my crime-fearing mother let me do this; nevertheless...).
Mondays I would hit up Badger for a workout, then go home and relax until time to cruise to the East side for an afternoon class and then workout. Mark Pfhlueghoft was determined, in his crazy mind, to take two hours each week and make me into a decent tumbler. So that never happened but at least we tried, and I directly attribute my success at achieving a tumbling 'C' skill with those weekly sessions. Ah yes. And coach Tom never asked, hahaha. Not that he wasn't a good coach - he was the best! - but sometimes you need to hear something from another perspective for your body to 'get it'.
I'd leave late at night, after having done tucks and turns and twirls with the 5's, lock up, and cruise home the Beltline blasting Sheryl Crow. I'd go to a gathering, a party, a friend's, or home to work on my then-blossoming internet presence (ah! you are all so glad and proud I'm sure). I had no obligations, nothing I didn't want to do. I was in the gym at least once a day, if not twice, at least six times a week. Workouts were fun, my jobs were great, my friends were flexible and there were no boys to cause confusion. Just me and my gymnastics. And diving, with crazy Carrie and my terrible skillZ, and water ballet (YES I KNOW) with the shiny silver suits and Mark Weinberg (?). And Sheryl Crow to sing along with me. Man, that summer was the bomb.
OK that's enough. I think this is sufficiently long to have killed at least one person by now (of boredom, that is).
.....
Jeff moves into his apt this weekend. I am very very very excited!! I hope he is too!! Jenny moves too, so it's a double JJ move-in weekend. Yeah. And a four day weekend at that. AND Fourth of July, how I love thee. Hurrah. With that, good-night, my loves.
—Lexi