New Year's Eve and it's hard to believe
another zodiac has gone around.

While you drank yourself high on hoping
and watched the ceiling spin from the ground.

Counting down from ten it's time
to make your annual prayer.

Secret santa in the sky
when will I get my share?

Then you tell yourself
what you want to hear.

Cause you have to believe.

This will be my year.

This will be my year...Semisonic


Go Ahead Punk: E-Mail Little Squaw @ squawpunch@hotmail.com

AIM: gimletgurl7 (Remember when she used to be here?)

Monday, May 31, 2004

Who knew Princeton changed their dress code to casual Mummers?

I am just feeling very anti chatty today and I got waylaid in the lipgloss aisle of Walmart today. Damn damn damn that evil Rimmel.

I finally watched "The Good Girl". I TiVoed it way back in January. So here's my opinion. I don't understand why everyone thinks that Jake Gyllenhaal is so hot. He'll forever be "Bubble Boy" to me and we all know that ten years ago he'd have been dating Drew Barrymore. Also, his character completely proves my theory about "interestingly quiet and shy boys". You know the one about how most people are way more normal/boring/dull than you would guess? All those boys you had a crush on. The ones who were dating the girl you thought was too dull/boring/ordinary for them...well if you'd had a chance to talk to them you'd have realized that they were just a dull/boring/ordinary as everyone else, except that you put them them up on a pedestal in your head. I know. Because I always went after "that boy" and once I talked to him I was so disappointed that I went back to being my out going, seriously understated, cooler than thou, self, by myself self.

And the other thing that the film proved to me? It's completely and totally true that jeans with tapered legs make everyone look heavier than they are. Just look at Jennifer Aniston in that film. Point made.

But enough about films I took too long to see and more about my adventures yes?

On Saturday Gert and Swifty came over and we were going to Princeton to just walk around the campus and check out the the architecture, etc..etc...etc...

We I suggested that we take my car, given the fact that I was familiar with the area. Gert was hesitant because Swifty's baby seat was in her car. I assured her that we could move it over successfully which we did.

I finally found something more intriguing to Swifty than my glasses or chest. Chandelier earings! They of course are dangerous things for him to be intrigued with because I was afraid that my lobes would be torn off.

And off we went. Driving to Princeton always reminde me of driving to Bar Harbor. One two lane road in and out. Traffic was wonky and there were way too many "Click it or ticket" traps. How stupid do you have to be not to wear a seatbelt? What's the point?

We'll about four miles out of Princeton Swifty started howling. (He must of guessed what was going to happen when we got there)...Gert was twisting and turning to see what was doing (keeping her seatbelt buckled of course)...and I suddenly realized that after the first minute or two of bably howling I'd suddenly stopped hearing it.

We get to Princeton and it's bumper to bumper. Very odd for a Saturday. Then we realize that that the traffic is completely out of control. I told Gert that I was trying to sneak around the back to the lot where we parked when we went to see Fountains of Wayne and she howled herself saying, "This isn't going to turn into a Fountains of Wayne memory tour is it?" And I had to explain no, I just didn't want to park on the street!

Well that's when we started to notice that everyone on the street was dressed in orange and black horrific outfits. A lot of them were sporting tiger tails and black and orange feather boas. THEY WERE EVERYWHERE! That's when we figured out that there had to be some sort of reunion thingy going on. We looped back to Nassau St. and Gert hopped into the backseat to see what was doing with Swifty. I decided to go down Nassau and then we saw the whole thing was roped off for some sort of garish orange and black parade of sorts.

Insert a, "THIS WOULD ONLY HAPPEN TO US" here. So we're sitting in traffic and when Gert hops out of the car I hear a roar of bugs. I roll my window down and crank my head about looking for the source. I see some large bugs flying around the trees and I start to shout, "THEY'RE HERE! THEY'RE HERE! THANK GOD THEY'RE HERE! I CAN SEE THEM! I HAVE TO CALL GILLY AND TELL HIM THAT THEY ARE HERE!" If you take Gert's word the guy in the car next to us looked at me like I was crazy. But I was talking about the cicadas. You know those bugs who only appear every 17 years? Well Gilly's been talking about them for weeks and I've been praying that they didn't appear in our town because the last thing I wanted to have happen was to be surrounded by a load of big scary bugs while waiting for the bus every morning. Apparently the ground has to reach a certain temperature for them to come out and I was surprised that they hadn't yet based on the heat lately...but they had! And they're in Princeton not our town. YAY!...So we make it down the street and Gert warns me with, "Don't say anything to the female cop. You don't have good luck with female cops." And then I realize that my window was down after I said something that would probably irritated said cop. We end up wandering too and fro until we spot a space on a street behind a cemetary. I made Gert park because I was hungry and didn't feel capable of parallel parking. She did a great job complete with a, "And that's why I needed an extra driving lesson to practice how to do that!" Money well spent says I.

We made our way to the hoopla and Gert spotted a man sleeping in the cemetary. Weird. Nassau St. was a blur of orange and black of all ages and sizes. We went to the "hidden" Burger King. You know like the one in Freeport, ME? The kind that's hidden as not to offend the natives? I wonder if the "Grease Trucks" are Bentley's. If you don't know what "Grease Truck" is go visit Rutgers late some night and you'll see swarms of them serving such culinary delights as such as a a "fries, chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks and marinara sauce sandwiche". No, I am not kidding.

But back to our grease. No sooner had we chosen a table did a man spill an extra large soda on my foot. Again Gert took the opportunity to point out, "These things always happen to you!"

We ate yummy yummy grease. I found a purse with a cellphone in the bathroom. Some man claimed it when I took it to the counter. We heard some kid say, "Lend me your shoes and I'll go order."

It was all pretty normal. We left to explore the campus and quickly figured out that it was alumni weekend. The grounds had been carved out into a parade route and compounds for each of the groups 1940-1949, 1950-1959, 1960-1969, etc...the older groups (aka deeper pockets) had the better areas. And this is where I give you my theory that "nostalgia and tradition" breed "loyalty" and "loyalty" means people are willing to pay to build their "legacy". Hence all the stones and bricka brack with donors names and years carved into every nook and cranny of that campus.

We saw one of the bugs up close and personal. It was orange and black. Which led us to believe that Princeton had made special arrangements to have them appear there. What with those being the school colors and all.



There were lots of old men with funny Princeton blazers on. And when I say funny I mean striped blazers with tigers printed on them and such. We even saw one man in lederhosen, a blazer and a hat that made him look like he had just fallen out of a cuckoo clock. We had a lot of fun exploring what with Gert exclaiming, "Dahling and Sweet heart that's just gauche!" I was feeling too slighted and snotty to be as light hearted. Pick a kid that you think is spoiled and rotten and a cheat and has everything that you could ever dream of handed to them on a silver platter yet they take it all for granted and well you just assume that they end up at a school like Princeton. Or maybe I am feeling poor lately. BUT for the record, a girl that Gilly went to high school with, who later went to Princeton...well she used to go home at lunchtime and her boyfriend would pee on her in the shower. THOSE are the kind of people I think go there.

There's one set of dorms...the one set of building that don't look like a castle or a scene out of School Ties or The Dead Poet's Society...well there's one set of buildings we called the "date rape" buildings, all modern and glass with wrap around floor to ceiling windows lined with vodka bottles and a Christmas trees.

We walked by one of the old majestic dorms and I said, "You know they all have illicit sex and sodomize freshman in there, don't you?" and Gert said, "Shhheee, the windows are open!" And I said, "Well they know that they do it! Plus they're doing drugs in there anyway."

I didn't read all those Bret Easton Ellis books and not learn a thing or two in the process! :)

A very nice man in a Tiger blazer pointed us in the direction of the chapel when we asked. And it was a lovely chapel, even if they are pagens what with no Mary or holy water to be seen.

When we left the campus a bird pooped on my shoulder! Gert almost died and then she said, "ONLY YOU! That better end up on your blog!" When I said, "Well it's a good thing that this shirt is off the shoulder." She said while unconvincingly stifling a laugh, "Well they say it's good luck!" and I said, "Yeah for you! You didn't get hit!" Thank God Swifty had baby wipes in his stroller.

I am quite tired. Though I think that those are the highlights. Oh those and us making Gilly hold Swifty later in the day. :)

Edgar says...


Which roughly translated means..."Oh, I am so very tired!"
posted by JustKeepMum on 9:45 PM