Yesterday in the comments, someone linked us to an old movie called State Fair and one of the actors listed in the credits was Edward "Tap" Canutt, and for some reason this killed me. And by the way, if you ever wish to torture me, link me to several Rogers and Hammerstein musicals such as State Fair, over there. Good gravy.
Musicals. Why?
That's what I want on my tombstone. June "Tap" Gardens. 1965-2087. Musicals. Why?
I like how Ima live to be 222. Wait. One hundred twenty-two. June "Tap" Gardens. Math. Why?
At any rate, how are y'all? Did you have fine weekends? I realize Sunday is still early, but Ned had to leave today for a business trip and I am bereft in the way only people in a new relationship get bereft about these sorts of things, so anyway for me the weekend is over. OVER!
"So I get home Wednesday," said Ned. "You'll see me Wednesday night, right?"
I mean, seriously? "NOTHING BUT DEATH CAN KEEP ME FROM IT!" Which is only funny if you have watched The Color Purple 80 times.
In fact, our parting when he had to leave for the airport was a tad Nettie and Celie-ish.
Speaking of Ned, on Friday we went to a play.
It was in this little room, with little round tables instead of theater seating. The play was The Woman in Black, and holy cats! It was supposed to be scary and I thought, Oh, how scary can a PLAY be? But you know what? It scared the crap out of me. Which was awkward, but I just shoved it under my round table.
We ran into this guy I work with, who Ima call Not Wes. Even though he and I have exchanged emails and I know he's been reading my blog, we work on different floors so we'd never met. Then Friday at work we finally DID meet, and lo and behold there he was at the play. So he sat with us because his friend stood him up, and oh, did we love Not Wes, Ned and me. We all told ghost stories and scared ourselves further.
I took, like, 106 pictures of Ned that night and of course they all came out blurry and once again I'd like to invite you to send me an iPhone 5. I don't know why anyone isn't taking me up on that invite.
Then yesterday, we went to the fair. As you saw from yesterday's brief post and IT WAS BBQ CHICKEN, people! Jesus.
It's funny that out of the 92 photos I took yesterday that I threw in the Ferris wheel first. Because getting on that Ferris wheel? People had an easier time boarding Sputnik. No one rode Sputnik except some dog, did they? You know why? Probably because the same people running Sputnik ran this fair.
(Oh, that reminds me, I've got to call you. heeeeeeeee!)
Seriously, the place was packed, and that Ferris wheel was always off in the distance, like a mirage. We'd schlep over to where we thought it was, only to encounter a barn or a truck lot or a fence, and we could NEVER GET TO THE DAMN RIDE.
(Ned sniffing tobacco leaves. Once a smoker...)
(By the way, the fair needs one is.) (And how much are you enjoying me interrupting my own story to show you these dumb pictures?)
We even bought tickets (you needed TEN!) to GET on the damn Ferris Wheel. Finally, FINALLY, we got to it and the line was 495595-3-59554832485954045utr8*%*($4059304 feet long, and once we were reasonably close?
It broke.
IT BROKE!
(This must've been before the Ferris wheel made me want to cock-punch someone.)
So we turned around and schlepped--SCHLEPPPPPPPPED--past the crowds and the rides and the barns and the people (Tip from June "Tap" Gardens: If your child needs a stroller, your child is TOO YOUNG FOR THE FAIR.) and the crowds and the hoards (Tip from June "Tap" Gardens: Get your @#&&#$ stroller OUT MY WAY.) and we finally got to the OTHER Ferris wheel.
Guess what? Everyone ELSE in line for the first Ferris wheel had had the same thought. So the line extended to Tibet.
(Ned is totally into scary rides. I am totally not at all remotely into
scary rides at all even a bit. Guess what we did not do? I OFFERED to STAND there in the
lines with him and WATCH, but he wouldn't go.) (Ned totally wanted to go on this and shake it around and make it spin more and then vomit seven times onto the fairway. That.Spells.Fun.)
What I am trying to tell you is Ned and I did not ride the Ferris wheel yesterday, and I for one am huffy about it.
But we saw lots of good things.
You guys. Twenty-nine TINY inches SMALL.
Would you be interested in knowing where a proofreader might jab herself in the head with a corn dog stick because she is so frustrated?
The fair might frustrate a proofreader everytime one word.
Fortunately, I could have a fried MUCHroom to console myself. I was so irritated with MUCHroom that I did not have my usual hives over the word "veggies."
Veggies. Stick a horse member in my eye. Jesus.
Ned said he was going to win me a prize, that he never lost at Whack-a-Mole. Ned is a dermatologist. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHA. So he whacked away, so to speak, and guess what.
Guess.
"I NEVER LOSE at this game. Whack-a-Mole is my game," he insisted, while I went home with bupkis.
I also dragged Ned into my favorite thing, the old church in the Yesteryear part of the fair. It'd been a Baptist church attended by a mostly black crowd, and somehow the fair got it. It's the South. They probably just marched in and carted it away.
I love that old church. Everyone who was a member of it had to make their own pew, so each one is a little different. Can you imagine? BYOP!
Here's Ned blurrily feigning interest in the docent or whatever you'd call a guy who stands in an old church and tells you its history. I mean, maybe you'd call him "nutbag." It could be that he didn't work for the fair at all and we were all, Tell us more!
Worlds no apostrophe Tallest Girl. I mean, were they TRYING to give me angina?
I don't know why this cracked me up. Hot fish! Mmm! Once I was a kid and I was having a tantrum about not wanting to go somewhere. My mother was entirely fed up with me. "You cut out this crying, and get in there and wash your face with hot soap and water. We're going. Come on."
I stopped crying immediately. "Hot soap?"
As for Ned and me, we got fried green tomatoes, and he got the barbecue chicken, and we had those flavored almonds, you know the ones. They have vanilla flavor and maple and gross flavors like blueberry cheesecake. I mean, really? Who wants to eat a blueberry cheesecake almond? We have our limits.
All told, we could've eaten much worse than we did.
We also went to the bees and honey exhibit, since I'd already broken out in hives due to the errors on all the signs. I don't mean to drone on, but for some reason the bees are my favorite. I like to comb through the whole exhibit.
Okay, I'm done. Sorry, I'm kind of buzzed.
Ned took the opportunity to buy some honey next to Indiana Jones. It was an adventure.
Do you know what I don't really like? Apples. Whenever I tell someone that they act like I just said I don't like water or something. I mean, I'll eat a green apple, particularly if it's covered in caramel. Just not an apple fan. Other than my computer.
Ned is SO not into me. Where the hell is he looking, and why was he sprayed by Roy G. Biv?
Yes, we did pay to see this. And eventually we rode some rides, too. I went on those swings? The ones that spin around and go way up high? Now, see, for me that is one scary effing ride, but I know Ned thought I was being Wimpus Americanus. WhatEVER with him and his Indiana Jones honey-buying adventure self.
Eventually, we saw everything there was to see, and after walking five hours on my plantars fascitis, I was ready to call it a day. (Honestly, the pain was exquisite at that point. Exquisite. Oh my shattered arse.) (Yes, I DO have to get back to the doctor.) (Good gravy.)
We had dinner in Raleigh, since we were there already, and I saw this doggie in a store.
And no, I did NOT ask how much was that doggie in the window. I have the feeling she is priceless. I LOVE YOU DOGGEEEEE! Show up in my car someday, okay?
I guess that's all I have to tell you about my weekend.
Because I'm glad you reminded me. I DO need to call you still. heeee. again.
Comments
My Weekend, by June "Tap" Gardens
Yesterday in the comments, someone linked us to an old movie called State Fair and one of the actors listed in the credits was Edward "Tap" Canutt, and for some reason this killed me. And by the way, if you ever wish to torture me, link me to several Rogers and Hammerstein musicals such as State Fair, over there. Good gravy.
Musicals. Why?
That's what I want on my tombstone. June "Tap" Gardens. 1965-2087. Musicals. Why?
I like how Ima live to be 222. Wait. One hundred twenty-two. June "Tap" Gardens. Math. Why?
At any rate, how are y'all? Did you have fine weekends? I realize Sunday is still early, but Ned had to leave today for a business trip and I am bereft in the way only people in a new relationship get bereft about these sorts of things, so anyway for me the weekend is over. OVER!
"So I get home Wednesday," said Ned. "You'll see me Wednesday night, right?"
I mean, seriously? "NOTHING BUT DEATH CAN KEEP ME FROM IT!" Which is only funny if you have watched The Color Purple 80 times.
In fact, our parting when he had to leave for the airport was a tad Nettie and Celie-ish.
Speaking of Ned, on Friday we went to a play.
It was in this little room, with little round tables instead of theater seating. The play was The Woman in Black, and holy cats! It was supposed to be scary and I thought, Oh, how scary can a PLAY be? But you know what? It scared the crap out of me. Which was awkward, but I just shoved it under my round table.
We ran into this guy I work with, who Ima call Not Wes. Even though he and I have exchanged emails and I know he's been reading my blog, we work on different floors so we'd never met. Then Friday at work we finally DID meet, and lo and behold there he was at the play. So he sat with us because his friend stood him up, and oh, did we love Not Wes, Ned and me. We all told ghost stories and scared ourselves further.
I took, like, 106 pictures of Ned that night and of course they all came out blurry and once again I'd like to invite you to send me an iPhone 5. I don't know why anyone isn't taking me up on that invite.
Then yesterday, we went to the fair. As you saw from yesterday's brief post and IT WAS BBQ CHICKEN, people! Jesus.
It's funny that out of the 92 photos I took yesterday that I threw in the Ferris wheel first. Because getting on that Ferris wheel? People had an easier time boarding Sputnik. No one rode Sputnik except some dog, did they? You know why? Probably because the same people running Sputnik ran this fair.
(Oh, that reminds me, I've got to call you. heeeeeeeee!)
Seriously, the place was packed, and that Ferris wheel was always off in the distance, like a mirage. We'd schlep over to where we thought it was, only to encounter a barn or a truck lot or a fence, and we could NEVER GET TO THE DAMN RIDE.
(Ned sniffing tobacco leaves. Once a smoker...)
(By the way, the fair needs one is.) (And how much are you enjoying me interrupting my own story to show you these dumb pictures?)
We even bought tickets (you needed TEN!) to GET on the damn Ferris Wheel. Finally, FINALLY, we got to it and the line was 495595-3-59554832485954045utr8*%*($4059304 feet long, and once we were reasonably close?
It broke.
IT BROKE!
(This must've been before the Ferris wheel made me want to cock-punch someone.)
So we turned around and schlepped--SCHLEPPPPPPPPED--past the crowds and the rides and the barns and the people (Tip from June "Tap" Gardens: If your child needs a stroller, your child is TOO YOUNG FOR THE FAIR.) and the crowds and the hoards (Tip from June "Tap" Gardens: Get your @#&&#$ stroller OUT MY WAY.) and we finally got to the OTHER Ferris wheel.
Guess what? Everyone ELSE in line for the first Ferris wheel had had the same thought. So the line extended to Tibet.
(Ned is totally into scary rides. I am totally not at all remotely into
scary rides at all even a bit. Guess what we did not do? I OFFERED to STAND there in the
lines with him and WATCH, but he wouldn't go.) (Ned totally wanted to go on this and shake it around and make it spin more and then vomit seven times onto the fairway. That.Spells.Fun.)
What I am trying to tell you is Ned and I did not ride the Ferris wheel yesterday, and I for one am huffy about it.
But we saw lots of good things.
You guys. Twenty-nine TINY inches SMALL.
Would you be interested in knowing where a proofreader might jab herself in the head with a corn dog stick because she is so frustrated?
The fair might frustrate a proofreader everytime one word.
Fortunately, I could have a fried MUCHroom to console myself. I was so irritated with MUCHroom that I did not have my usual hives over the word "veggies."
Veggies. Stick a horse member in my eye. Jesus.
Ned said he was going to win me a prize, that he never lost at Whack-a-Mole. Ned is a dermatologist. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHA. So he whacked away, so to speak, and guess what.
Guess.
"I NEVER LOSE at this game. Whack-a-Mole is my game," he insisted, while I went home with bupkis.
I also dragged Ned into my favorite thing, the old church in the Yesteryear part of the fair. It'd been a Baptist church attended by a mostly black crowd, and somehow the fair got it. It's the South. They probably just marched in and carted it away.
I love that old church. Everyone who was a member of it had to make their own pew, so each one is a little different. Can you imagine? BYOP!
Here's Ned blurrily feigning interest in the docent or whatever you'd call a guy who stands in an old church and tells you its history. I mean, maybe you'd call him "nutbag." It could be that he didn't work for the fair at all and we were all, Tell us more!
Worlds no apostrophe Tallest Girl. I mean, were they TRYING to give me angina?
I don't know why this cracked me up. Hot fish! Mmm! Once I was a kid and I was having a tantrum about not wanting to go somewhere. My mother was entirely fed up with me. "You cut out this crying, and get in there and wash your face with hot soap and water. We're going. Come on."
I stopped crying immediately. "Hot soap?"
As for Ned and me, we got fried green tomatoes, and he got the barbecue chicken, and we had those flavored almonds, you know the ones. They have vanilla flavor and maple and gross flavors like blueberry cheesecake. I mean, really? Who wants to eat a blueberry cheesecake almond? We have our limits.
All told, we could've eaten much worse than we did.
We also went to the bees and honey exhibit, since I'd already broken out in hives due to the errors on all the signs. I don't mean to drone on, but for some reason the bees are my favorite. I like to comb through the whole exhibit.
Okay, I'm done. Sorry, I'm kind of buzzed.
Ned took the opportunity to buy some honey next to Indiana Jones. It was an adventure.
Do you know what I don't really like? Apples. Whenever I tell someone that they act like I just said I don't like water or something. I mean, I'll eat a green apple, particularly if it's covered in caramel. Just not an apple fan. Other than my computer.
Ned is SO not into me. Where the hell is he looking, and why was he sprayed by Roy G. Biv?
Yes, we did pay to see this. And eventually we rode some rides, too. I went on those swings? The ones that spin around and go way up high? Now, see, for me that is one scary effing ride, but I know Ned thought I was being Wimpus Americanus. WhatEVER with him and his Indiana Jones honey-buying adventure self.
Eventually, we saw everything there was to see, and after walking five hours on my plantars fascitis, I was ready to call it a day. (Honestly, the pain was exquisite at that point. Exquisite. Oh my shattered arse.) (Yes, I DO have to get back to the doctor.) (Good gravy.)
We had dinner in Raleigh, since we were there already, and I saw this doggie in a store.
And no, I did NOT ask how much was that doggie in the window. I have the feeling she is priceless. I LOVE YOU DOGGEEEEE! Show up in my car someday, okay?
I guess that's all I have to tell you about my weekend.
Because I'm glad you reminded me. I DO need to call you still. heeee. again.
