From Bleeding Ears...

I went to a massive conference this weekend. There were roughly 16,000 people present, and I swear, every single one of them was screaming at the top of their lungs (minus me...I was trying desperately to keep my sanity and my hearing). I think for the entire 3 day conference, I had about 3 seconds of silence. We all came out of there with bruised ear drums and a bit of vertigo, and I came to realize that I am aging, and maybe not as a gracefully as I would like.
Other than the constant high-volumed level of noise, it turned out to be a very good weekend. We caught some great bands, ate lots of junk food, and I saw lots of people I haven't seen in a very long time. I believe I was also hit on by some very young boys. That didn't make my weekend, but it did make me laugh. I was beginning to wonder if I should, in fact, introduce myself by my age rather than my name.
One of the highlights for me was watching people. I sat there and indulged in this past time, as there were 16,000 people for me to watch. I saw some of the most interesting interactions, flamboyant outfits, and attention seeking people that I have in a long time. I also saw a lot of people who have lost their ability to think for themselves. I was intrigued. The "rock and roll" band, dubbed Audio Adrenaline, came out with one of the lamest openings, and their lead singer wasn't wearing leather, as maybe he should have been, but rather he was wearing loose, white, linen pants. Linen!! I couldn't believe it! He became, at that moment, so much less rock and roll.
Anyway...a few pictures to say what I can't.

Amongst the hype...

Fructose...the sugar of the gods

I had the pleasure of ingesting a most fabulous mango today. It's one of those fruits that you just can't be lady-like while eating. I sat there hunched over, trying not to drip on my dress or feet and all the while smearing juices on my face. Also, I had strings of said fruit hanging from my teeth. It's just not one of those kinds of foods that you want to be eating around certain company.
While in Thailand we had the joy of being introduced to some of the most interesting fruits in existence. By interesting, I mean gross. Now durian must have been created as a joke because it smells like feet that had been wrapped in a plastic bag for a month, and then placed in a hot climate. It tastes like feet might after they had been wrapped in a hot plastic bag for a month, and it's consistency is like porridge. Now, that's just not the way that fruit is supposed to be! There was another fruit that I only know the Thai name for. Mamaung. Hanging off the bottom of this juicy mess was a pleasant surprise. The highly enjoyable cashew nut. Now, the fruit itself wasn't that good...they made us eat it all the time though, so I would pretend to love it while inwardly despising every bite. But the real joy came when we got to roast and crush the cashew nut and eat to our heart's content!
Anyway, I don't think I knew it was possible to write so much about fruit. Now I do. There may be many more entries to come concerning what I eat and how much I like it. But then again, there might not be...

Mamuang-alicious

Choir of Voices

I don't know how much of a choir I can really call it...rather it is a myriad of loud junior high voices all tittering at the exact same time. How do they do it? Do they hear anything other than their own voice? And are they actually saying anything intelligible? I know that if I speak at the same time as others I get confused and start saying gibberish. Does logic come with age? These masses of open-mouthed kids are all exercising their vocal chords outside my office and I can't think. I can't do anything at all...anything but blog.
There is a brief reprieve...one which I will embrace wholeheartedly. Thank the good Lord for silence.

With Much Deliberation...

I have finally entered the ranks of the "bloggers". My friend told me the other day that I am now officially a computer nerd. Ah well, we all need something to fill our time. Does this mean that I'm only a level below a gamer though? I've never wanted to be one of those. They scare me. Pale, white skin, deep, sunken-in eyes, strong, and well-toned thumbs. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. I called my brother a gamer today, and his eyes took on a wrathful, fire filled look, and he choked on his tea. Do gamers drink tea?
Selma, Patty and I moved into "the convent" yesterday. I woke up in a daze and in utter confusion. I wasn't sure what to do with myself. There was no constricting, horizontal striped wallpaper to soothe my senses, nor the usual early morning hub bub of the trailer court. Rather, we have quiet, self respecting neighbours who understand the idea of common courtesy. Do we really belong here?

Patty and Selma