August 2005 Archives

Groomsman again this last weekend, this time for Matt (congrats, you lucky fiji-bound bastard) and it was much fun and a blissfully short ceremony. While being in the wedding party wasn't a new experience anymore, "crashing" a wedding to which I was invited was.

The wedding went nice and smooth. The reception started with some toasts and general mingling for all of the typically church going segment of the crowd. It was a nice casual affair. Thankfully then the DJ desided to spin some dance music and the room because ours. There we all are, 30 tight knit lunatics surrounding the freshly minted baldridge family expansion set and they're loving life and we're jumping and waving around like mad. I take a pause during this to look out and the rest of the slightly calmer crowd can do nothing but watch in pseudo-amazement, one womans mouth is actually just hanging open. We got a few of the younglings to leave their parents and come join in - they'll make good rebels later. It's a great affair and Matt and Rebekah get decked out in tropical shirts and cheuferred away in a classic convertable, huge grins on their faces. It was a good day.

And really, nothing says class like smuggled booze and AC/DC, right?

I'm learning spanish using the Pimsler lessons. They're pretty good, the technique works well, but their sample conversations are a little disturbing.

That was good meal. I'm going to the bathroom.
And what am I going to do?
You? Woman, you're going to pay.

You don't have any money?
No.
But you're american!

And my favorite, the alcoholic:

You're going to dring 3 beers?
Yes, in only 7 or 8 minutes.

I can only begin to speculate what the conversations will be like once I learn the word for "Bedroom".

Freshly back from vancouver for Matt's bachelor party. There were pictures taken, but they are currently trapped on Matt's own camera so we'll have to see what makes the light of day. There was much steak and alcohol, I imagine matt's recolection of the night goes something like:

Drink!, limo, Drink!, steak, Drink!, fireworks, Drink!, wandering to the bar, Drink!, blessed sleep.

But I don't actually know. He was a good bachelor though, wore his rediculous shirt the entire night with a big grin on his face. Trent and Andy lead him around to have all of the women in the bar sign it and wish him well. One woman asked if it was a scam, just to get more women to hit on. I have to kind of wonder what type of woman that would work on...

And since no bachelor party is complete with out it, I stole a traffic cone. Of course since canadians do everything with their own little flair (strutting man on the crosswalk signs) this traffic cone is only about 7 inches tall. It's like it's meant to be pocket sized. I need to mount it in trophy form.

Care to share you dim and spotty memories matty?

Bank of america stole my car. I made the last payment on my car loan last month and was kind of curious as to when I might get my title. I called them up and said that I didn't have the load number (they'd changed it on me, didn't tell me the new one, plus I was in my car). No problem, they'll look it up. Tapity-tap. Nope, it appears you don't have a loan with us. In fact you've never had a loan with us. You have a credit card though.

Right. Helpful that. So where has the money that's been dutifully removed from my account every month gone?

Don't know, sorry. Can I help you with anything else today?

I do not proffer a suggestion. So I'm driving a car with no title and no record of anyone having the title. Sweeeet.

Also, it appears Hercule Poiro was arrested in 1917 for no particular reason:

I'm not sure which I like more, him or the guy arrested for stealing a hat from the library.

My phone started speaking russian at me today.

The phone rang, I picked it up:
Caller: Dobra, nyet, vodka, kremlin. This isn't what they said, but I don't speak russian and I can't even begin to fake russian sounding words.
Me: Um.. I think you have the wrong number..
Caller: Rupels, dostoyevski, glasnost!
Me: .. wrong.. wrong number.. I'm hanging up now
Caller: GORBACHEV!

At which point I hang up the phone. I'm not sure they even heard me. I have a little chuckle at the thought that I've just been part of a botched russian mafia ordered killing. Yorgi trying to find out why sven is still alive.

The phone rings again. Oh christ, if they didn't clue in on my not speaking russian they're going to be calling all day. I let it ring until voicemail picks up. They dutifully leave a message that I can't begin to comprehend.

Since martin can fake russian I send it on to him for translation, he says it's just someone's mother calling to see if their brother arrived okay since she hadn't heard from him. This guy's phone number is just one digit different than mine (but still internal to microsoft). Forward it on, happy reuniting all around. At least I hope so, the brother is still unaccounted for as far as I know.

Maybe he faked his own death to flee the country with secret documents. Seems reasonable.