Sunday, September 28, 2003

Lots to post. I figured I'd do it all at once when I got back and could think coherently. We caught the train back to Billysburg today happened to meet Liz Mullin and Kenji at the station. Turns out that what Sarah told us when we visited her in Kensington was true: Kenji went up to Boston to see his girlfried, got caught, was brought home, and then released on some sort of trust pact (ha! right). Liz slept most of the way, Andrew and I read, fooled around with our laptops, and dozed off at varying intervals. When we got back here we had to carry our bags all the way back to Talliaferro--so now I have aching shoulder muscles to match the aching leg muscles I got playing laser tag. I'm still not sure how I got them...the laceration on my knee I got when Andrew told me to get down and I hugged the ground a little too enthusiastically. The thighs, though...I still feel like they're on fire every time I go up or down stairs and I can't for the life of me figure out why. I think the adrenaline masked whatever pain I might have been feeling along with overriding the common sense circuit in my cerebellum. It's amazing what you can do when you're high merely on your own chemicals--makes you wonder why druggies would want to settle for more.
Some cool things about laser tag. I had an "Operation Bughouse" moment when I wandered into a literal nest of the enemy. I kept wanting to reach for my flamer or use my jump jets to get away but the Reds were EVERYWHERE. Johnnie Rico never had to mess around with a frikkin' laser beam or target pads on jumpsuits either--he had the gift of instant immolation. Ah well. My stats were okay for a beginner: I ranked 19 out of 23 in the first round and 17 our of 34 (I think?) during the second round. We soundly trounced the Red team both times, incidentally. I like to think that I scored the way I did because my typical opponent stood knee high from the ground and presented a bad target. Andrew's idea of "phaser-whipping" became more attractive as time went on.
Oh yes, and we visited UMBC again yesterday. We didn't do much--Caitlin and I watched a movie and then we went out and played to a draw in chess before going off to dinner with Andrew and Lori. Lori asked me to beat Andrew for her every time he flirted with another girl and I said that my fists couldn't take that kind of exertion. I mean, Andrew is the kind of guy who talks about girls who come up and start to talking to him in front of his girlfriend. What good does physical punishment do against that kind of...what's the right word...obliviousness? I tried reassuring Lori that Andrew was probably stupid and definitely imprudent about that sort of thing, but not unfaithful. Anyways, most normal women find imprudence and (ahem!) tactlessness off-putting. He's just lucky she either puts up with or enjoys the spectacle he likes to make of himself.
Speaking of obliviousness, I've been trying to teach him the proper way to name bands--as opposed to the Dave Barry way. I explained that shorter band names provided more of an impact--i.e, Charge, Combust, Flair, Jam, etc. (Mind you, this is all from my point of view.) Multi-worded band names need to either have personal meaning as well as across-the-board appeal (I mean, if you're broadcasting your band name nationwide, you want it to have more than just a cool name--you want it to have auditory appeal when the DJ says "the newest from [band name].") For me, such names include The Impromptus and Time No Longer (the latter being a reference to a book I read once called "Tom's Midnight Garden"). However, I wasn't able to convey this to Andrew in my tired and befuddled state, and after listening to such things as "Exploding Clergy" and "Highly Flammible Chemicals" I suggested "Overwrought Roommate." It had its intended effect--the gratifying effect it had on his sense of humor also served to drive away his delusions of nomenclature.
Well, it's time to amble around Talliaferro for a while. I'll probably post some more on other occurences at both my house and at the Durfors'.
Attention, passengers. Next stop, Narcissussville. Population: Me. Why are you people even here? I'm all this town needs.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home