the peacockerator

EMP = exceptionally melodramatic princess?

EMP = eloquently marching peacock?

No!

EMP = experience music project!

SFM = single female monkey?

SFM = seventeen fantastic meatloaves?

No!

SFM = science fiction museum!

And here in Seattle, you can get them both *at the same venue*, all for the low low price of nothing. When you go on the first Thursday of every month, that is.

I did just that a few weeks ago. I'd been to the EMP way back in my high school days but didn't really take the time to appreciate it, so I was excited to go back as a real live, real mature adult. Alas, I didn't factor in the free factor, which meant that every other cheapskate in the city would be there as well. With their babies. In strollers.

Still, it was kind of fun to mill around. The best part is where they have the "Sound Lab" where you can practice playing real instruments and get tutorials from the computer. It's like Rock Band, except you actually have to play the instrument "correctly" rather than just hitting buttons. So naturally I was exceptionally good at it. Ha.

The new feature was the Science Fiction Museum downstairs, and believe it or not this was my favorite part. This coming from a girl who's read maybe four sci fi books in her life and has never seen Star Wars, Star Trek, or any other such nerdery. But I learned a lot, that's for sure.

Like, I'm not the only person who's obsessed with robots. At least cute, cartoony ones. There was a whole ROOM full of miniatures there. It brought me right back to the days when I loved The Jetsons and wanted a Rosie for my very own. All of these robots had names too! Which made me think, if I were a robot, what would my name be? The Peacockerator, methinks.

Vitamin D(elightful)

OK, Springtime has got me motivated to blog again. Really, though, I have so many good excuses for letting it fall off my list of things to do:

1. Broken printer made self-portraits impossible to print.

2. A wicked injury only compounded my laziness.

3. Umm....maybe that's it.

Don't worry, though, I've got tons of anecdotes saved up to share!

Let me start with a story that involves hard boiled eggs, oiled middle-aged men, spoiled girls, and foiled meal plans. (ha! rhyming is fun!)

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Sunday brought a moderately warm day in Seattle, and what better place to spend it than at Golden Gardens? The yelp crowd was holding a barbecue, and not just any bbq, but a food-eating contest. You know, hot dogs with the buns soaked in water, hard-boiled eggs, watermelon. The kind where if you don't puke, you lose. Gluttony at its best.

Like an idiot I ate a huge brunch right beforehand so wasn't able to partake in the full festivities. This freed me up to be time-keeper for the first contest--egg eating. I'll spare you the details, but the winner was able to down eight eggs in only two minutes. (Insert moment of silence for the Chickens That Weren't because of this event.)

Of course any good day at the beach involves some intense people-watching. We weren't disappointed, for sitting at the adjacent table was a svelt young gentleman of approximately 50 years of age. His pasty skin and bird legs were out in all their glory. I'm not sure what his goal was--it was hardly warm enough to be in just shorts, and hardly sunny enough to catch a tan--but he was wholly unconcerned. If you got it, flaunt it, right?

And there was this totally spoiled girl hanging around! She was playing volleyball with her boyfriend, except she had this hurkin cast on her left foot. Of course she wasn't very quick and her skills were rusty--basically she stood there hitting the ball in all directions while the poor guy went chasing after it.

Then she threw a big fit when he wanted to eat her Cheetos. She got what was coming to her, though, because a second later a gust of wind sent the whole plate flying upside-down, and the only person who got to enjoy those chips was Lola the Dog. Spoiled Girl almost cried. Karma's not so nice, is it, girly? (note: that girl was me)

the water cycle

As Sissy and I frolicked in the snow at Green Lake the other day, I reached another level of understanding about the water cycle.

Anyone who knows me knows about my beef with Condensation (shudder). I never thought I would despise any form of water more than those pesky droplets that seem to pop up at the most inconvenient time. But ladies and gentlemen, I give you my SECOND least favorite part of the water cycle...

SLUSH!

Vile substance! Ruining otherwise beautiful snow. Staining my oh-so-classy Ugg boots. Seeping up the legs of my (mostly) clean jeans. Collecting dirty street water. Ick! Ick! Ick! 

But once I was able to quench the rage that boiled within me and tore my eyes from the cesspool at my feet, I was able to enjoy the scenery. And what better way to enjoy the scenery than to add your own personal touch to it, in the form of a snow angel? That's what I thought too. 

Here's the conversation that preceded this picture:

Sissy: I dare you to do a snow angel!

Alli: Mmmm...no thanks.

(pause)

Sissy (sounding hopeful): Do you dare me to do a snow angel?

Well, I'm not one to be showed up, so we both did them. 

Ahh, to be 6 again. Before it was frowned upon for adults to whitewash each other. Before I didn't mind getting soaking wet from playing in the snow. Before the stupid water cycle became apparent in my everyday life...

secret santa surprise!

Yesterday I opened the mailbox to find a package addressed to *me*! I ripped it open and found these two adorable pendants inside, straight from my favorites list. The only problem was, I hadn't placed an order from them. Curious...

Don't worry, I didn't commit theft. My friends and I do a secret santa gift exchange every year, and whoever drew my name must have had the items sent directly to my doorstep. Best friend EVAR (even though I still don't know her identity)!

Seriously, you have to check out their shop, HomeStudio. The specialize in pendants made out of Scrabble tiles with the letter on one side and a glossy image on the other. There's a crazy selection of designs--flowers! birds! patterns! vespas! phrases! and all of them so stinkin' cute! I was going to post pictures of more of my favorites, but there are too gosh-darn many. Go there! Go there now!

going once...going twice...

I don't know if you knew this, but I'm quite a catch. This was no news to me, so in an effort to harness that power, I put myself up for auction to raise money for a worthy cause (The Arthritis Foundation). Yes, indeed, one lucky person would be the recipient of two and a half hours of time with moi! And if that wasn't enough sugar, I also agreed to throw in a home-made pie to sweeten the deal. 

Alright, let me back up a step. I signed up to do the Jingle Bell Run with a team of fellow yelpers, and we decided to try and be the top fund-raising team. People were throwing all kinds of ideas out there--bake sales, karaoke night, etc. Then someone suggested a date auction, and I jumped all over that scheme. At first I offered to do a combination bake-a-cake, then jump-out-of-it prize, but was asked to tone it down. 

The worst part of the experience was having to write a review of myself. How to convey what a catch I am without sounding conceited? It took me several hours (two minutes) late at night (during my lunch break) to perfect this masterpiece. 

Clearly my words of wisdom paid off. Rather than having no one bid on me, as I'd feared, there apparently was a bit of a bidding war going on over Miss FancyPeacock! I ended up being the 'prize' that raked in the most money--$150! If anyone ever told you it doesn't feel good to have a price attached to you, they were LYING! Because as the bids went up, so did my self esteem.

Sad.

There was no live bidding, as my drawing would suggest. Instead this event all took place via the Internets, where those interested would privately place their bid to the man in charge. I have yet to go on this 'date,' but will fill in all the deets after it happens, have no fear! And while it might be too late for YOU to bid on me, feel free to donate to the cause anyway!

the oh-snap!-ple cup

Yeah yeah, I know it's a little belated, but can we just talk about the Apple Cup for a minute? I'm a Coug fan to the core, and I did some serious trash-talking the weeks before the big game against the Huskies. Even wore my WSU sweatshirt to school the day before to make sure everyone knew where my loyalties lied. (laid? I'm good at grammar) Anyway, even though I was excited for the game I wasn't so sure they were actually going to pull it off. 

Despite my worries, I hopped on the good ol' public transit an hour before the game and headed to lovely Georgetown, where a group of my friends were gathering to watch the game at the Marco Polo. It was quite a harrowing experience involving all kinds of odors from people of all walks of life, natch. I'm not going to lie to you and say that my own pits were dry when I stepped off the bus, but I made it there in one pi

ece at least.

Let me tell you a little bit about the Marco Polo. It made good first impressions, with a marquee that was pro-Cougs and a sea of Crimson upon entering. Decor was pretty sparse, probably because they'd spent all their budget on a real-live Nascar to put in the corner (well worth it, if you ask me)! Somehow my friends had managed to snag the only table with its own built-in fireplace, and we cuddled up with some plush footballs (purchased at Bartell's) to do some major rah-rah-ing.

The bartender/waiters were right on top of things, and within 2 minutes of sitting down I had already Tapped The Rockies and was sipping a $2 pint of Coors Light. Then, after only another 2 minutes, a basket o' bacon was randomly dropped off at our table. Were we about to ask questions? No. And as if things couldn't get any better, my team wasn't even losing yet! (They weren't ahead, either, but that's besides the point.)

At halftime, after our bacon appetizer, we ordered Cougar Gold Cheeseburgers, made with cheese from Pullman's infamous Ferdinand's Dairy. I asked for jo-jo's with mine, but apparently it was my lucky day because they accidentally brought their house fries--crinkle-cut fries--instead. And then brought the jo-jo's too. Man, did I get my fill of starch. I may have eaten my weight in their fry sauce too. Each table had its very own bottle of the stuff. Dangerous.

So, ya. The Cougs trailed til the 4th quarter, then miraculously tied it up at the last minute. Then, my new best friend--the UW kicker--totally missed some clutch field goals and we WON in double overtime. Oh, SNAP!

Pictured above: My interpretation of the Glory that is the Marco Polo. And yes, I *am* doing The Sprinkler.

ringy-dingy

Look at how cute this is! I was browsing etsy.com a minute ago, and this caught my eye. Here's the link. I think I would walk a little taller with this on my finger.