Summer

by Berck

Warning: There’s at least one “bad” word in this post. I make no apologies for it. Sarah, if you’re going to be bothered by bad words, don’t read this post.

Work has been boring lately. There was a huge push to get the students done, but there hasn’t been much going in the past couple of weeks. There’s been a constant string of people leaving for Pueblo where there’s the same job for more money. My application is certainly in.

I went to Florida for Sydney’s graduation. Overall, not as bad as I thought it might be. Sydney neglected to wear a funny hat, but at least she didn’t walk naked. I discovered that I’m squishycore. You heard that right: I’m squishycore. I’d still like to know just who drinks a dozen cans of New Castle (did ya catch that? Cans of New Castle), dances on the platform, sings along with skater boy and stays out on Palm Court until the sun comes up, yet is *still* squishycore? By the time the sun came up, the hundreds of New College freaks had mostly evaporated, leaving some sludge on the bottom who insisted that we couldn’t get breakfast until the sun comes up. And I stuck with it. Passed out on the wall, I might have been, but squishycore I was not.

If anyone wants to tell me the name of the band with the chick who rocked as lead singer, I’d be glad of it. Not for any good reason, but I’d like to know. I listened to them for quite some time, but if they ever pronounced their band name, I never heard it. I did managed to hear the name of the chick who rocked: Katherine Kelly. Whose girlfirend (wearing a Gutentag Berlin shirt and fuck-me boots) once dated a girl I know. She definitely rocked. I decided to find her and tell her so at some point, but by then there was no sign of a band ever having been in the building with the bathroom when I looked. At the time, in a bit of a drunken haze, I figured I could Google them. At the time, it didn’t occur to me that there are a zillion appellatory permutations for the chick who rocked.

The band with the chick who rocked was worlds better than the band out in Palm Court. Whose name I did know, but don’t remember now. It was a weird name with fusion. Synergy, even. (In a non-corportate sense.) I think it started with a J and involved primates. In any case, they were only mediocre until the lead started singing. Then they sucked. It took me a long time to realize that the reason the vocals sounded so bad was not some sound guy mixup, but because he was singing into a telephone. Yes, a telephone. Which had been hard-wired into an amp. This was an interesting schtick, but produced less than interesting music.

All of the girls of New College are shaped the same. Or at least they appeared that way. My cousin Kyra and I were discussing this phenomomen, and were unable to decide whether it was a matter of shape, clothing, or far-left liberalism, but decided that these were at least the factors which should be investigated. Girl’s jeans have become so low, that they no longer really have wasits. They consist of two legs held together with a belt. As a result most girls are sporting a plumber’s crack while seated or bending over, which while not as bad on a girl in her early twenties as an actual plumber, still isn’t attractive. The girl with the lowest jeans of all was wearing a “bomb the blogosphere” t-shirt, which I loved. Until I found out that it’s a Questionable Content reference, which made me realize that I’m just not in touch with the ‘net these days.

In other news, the K girls have all turned out to be rather amazing people. I detect within them some hint of a promise for the future which I think that I too once possessed but have since squandered.

In even other news, my father is sporting a beard. Which means he is no longer allowed to complain about *my* beard should I choose to grow one. And I choose. His actually makes him look a bit relaxed, and (despite it being mostly gray) younger. (I, on the other hand, look much better without a beard, but I really detest shaving.)

With so little going on at work, now is a good time to take time off. If I take time off while we’re flying, I’m losing money. If I take off when we’re not flying, I’m not. Joanna couldn’t take off until Friday, which compressed things a little bit. So we’re going to drive somewhere Friday morning and return Wednesday evening. I’m not entirely sure where yet, but we’ll be departing on a northwesterly heading.

10 Responses to “Summer”

  1. nana Says:

    what’s “squishycore”?

  2. Jonah Says:

    I think it’s as opposed to “hard-core.”

  3. Syd Says:

    The sucky band’s name was ‘Japanda’. Nice memory.

    I don’t know the name of the band with the chick that rocked, but I bet I could find out. Next time I randomly run into Jes, I’ll make sure to ask her.

    And they played Sk8ter boy? Because neither Whitney, Laura, or I heard it. And we were the ones that requested it. (Dorky, yes, but also fun.) The reason you’re squishycore is because you looked like death at 8 am. Which ain’t so bad.

  4. Berck Says:

    I heard Skater Boy. I was no where near you guys at the time, though. It’s also possible that I heard it in my head and sung along with it that way, but that seems unlikely. I think I’m not squishycore because I looked like death at 8am and *still* went to breakfast. I never got my damn hashbrowns, though.

  5. Nathan Says:

    Geez, look at you people.

  6. Syd Says:

    jealous much?

  7. Nathan Says:

    No, I have Avril’s CD… And we’re going to name a daughter Avril.

  8. Berck Says:

    Avril is so hardcore!

  9. Stephanie Says:

    No we’re not.

  10. Berck Says:

    You’re not hardcore?

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