I haven’t left the Twin Cities metro area in over a year.
Madre Jansen and I are plotting the next Miami-trip, but Halvers and I will probably take a trip to greater-Minnesota in the next few months.
Here are some pictures from my last trip to Greater Minnesota: Bemidji!
Jamie only drinks 1% milk, which is unacceptable coffee creamer, so I went to the Slum Stop (Quick Stop) for some half-and-half.
All the half-and-half at the Slum Stop was expired so I walked to the gas station a few blocks down the street.
The gas station is run by a pair of Middle Eastern brothers. They know me because I’ve stopped by with Maverick a few times.
The items for sale at the gas station are usually cheaper and fresher than the Slum Stop, and I have no idea why I don’t go there first…
There was a middle aged white guy in the gas station store who let me in line first. He had a thick Minnesota accent.
I thanked him, paid for my half-and-half, and as I put my money away I heard the white guy greet the Middle Eastern clerk:
Clerk: “Hello.”
White Guy: “Hola, Como estas?”
I looked back and exchanged a knowing “bitch please” look and smirk wit the clerk.
I could hear the clerk respond as I left,
Clerk (sighing): “Fine sir. How are you?”
Jamie studying the science of sleep.
I stopped walking and stood in front of the display, mouth agape.
Me: “You have to me shitting me.”
Jamie: “What?”
Me: “Oh hell nah. Come look at this!”
Jamie: “Nothing can shock me.”
Me: “CAMOUFLAGE LINGERIE?! What…why…who would ever…”
Jamie: “Welcome to Minnesota.”
How to tell when your significant other thinks you blog too much:
Jamie: “Are you going to blog about how I made you go on an awkward double date with two of my ex’s that I’m trying to hook up?”
(two hours later)
Jamie: “You’re going to blog about this aren’t you?”
(at the end of the night)
Jamie: “DONT BLOG ABOUT THIS!”
(right now, as he’s reading this over my shoulder)
Jamie: “I THOUGHT YOU WEREN’T GOING TO BLOG ABOUT THIS!”
…blog about what dear?
Jukebox and vintage video games…Jamie and I are having a quiet throwback New Year’s Eve, and it’s pretty much perfect.
So I had my “tuna of the sea” moment…
Jamie: “How’s the pizza going?”
Me: “Fine… how do I know when it’s done?”
Jamie (opening oven): “Uh, you weren’t supposed to cook the breadsticks and the pizza at once…and they are on the wrong trays.”
Me: “What? Why?”
Jamie: “And what temperature are they supposed to be?”
Me: “It says 425 for a regular oven and 400 for a conventional oven…”
Jamie: “Conventional oven?”
Me: “Yeah, and your oven is old so I assumed it was a conventional oven…”
Jamie: “Convection oven. And my oven isn’t a convection oven.”
Me(rereading the instructions): “OH! It does say convection… what’s a convection oven?”
And yes, I looked up convection oven:
Convection ovens or fan ovens or turbo ovens augment a traditional oven by circulating heated air using a fan.
Hmmf. At least I learned something today!
On Friday Paige and I went to the Outlaw end-of-year bowling event. This is her striking:
Friday night Jamie and I had a movie night and watched Reservation Road and The Flock. I was shocked to see Avril Lavigne’s cameo in the latter.
Avril, of course, gets killed.
On Saturday Stella and I went to Mall of America and saw all sorts of awkward:
So the conversation went something like this…
Me: “I want to make a decapitated snowman like Jessie, from Boy in Suit!”
Jamie: “Uh…no. We can’t do that!”
Me: “Why not? It would be the tort snowman! Mr. Palsgraf!”
Jamie: “Too stereotypical for this neighborhood. We have too much crime….too much real blood in the snow for that to be appropriate!”
Me: “But it’s going to be ballin’ outrageous!”
Jamie: “THE FIRST SNOW MAN I MAKE AT MY HOUSE IS NOT GOING TO BE A TORT!”
Me: “Arg! Bitch, moan, plead, interpleader!!”
Jamie: “FINE! MAKE YOUR OWN SNOW MAN!”
So we went outside, and Jamie made his Snow-woman…
That’s a total Charlie Brown pose right there…
I’m outlining Torts at Jamie’s house with my study-partner, Maverick.
A dog is the best law school study buddy ever: unlike humans, a dog can listen to tort theory for hours without actually committing a tort against the babbling law student.
Me: “So, bla bla bla, death, destruction, law suit… this is a situation of transferred intent, right?”
Maverick: “Pant, pant, bark, fart, pant-pant…yes, tell me more.”
So that’s my Friday…
Last month Erik and I approached the clubhouse around midnight. It was about 25 degrees, but there were dozens of people smoking outside.
“That’s when you know something is addictive,” I said, “When it has you willingly standing around in the cold.”
Today we can tack coffee onto that list of addictive things…
I’m preparing for my contracts final at Jamie’s house. Jamie, for whatever reason, does not have a coffee machine. Gasp, I know!
It’s 12 degrees, but the coffee was calling… so, I decide to ‘take a brisk walk’ to the convenience store around the corner.
I immediately knew that the Quik Stop didn’t sell coffee (they didn’t even have a soda fountain!) but I asked the clerk anyway…
Quik Stop Clerk: “Coffee? You mean already made Coffee? Pfft. No. We don’t sell that.”
I leave the store, perturbed.
Should I go back? Well, a bit further down the street is a gas station… Surely they sell coffee…
I think “f-it” and walk a few more blocks down the street.
I don’t realize that the gas station is abandoned until I’m immediately in front of it.
Should I go back? Well, a few more blocks down the street is a Subway. Thank god for chains. Subway has to have coffee. Besides, it’s only 12 degrees. That’s like a dozen degrees before zero…
I walk into Subway, absolutely delighted. My hands are together in a mock prayer. (Yes…it’s that serious) The Subway worker gets off the phone and greets me.
Me (big smile): “Please tell me you have coffee!”
Subway Dude: “Coffee? Pfft. No. We don’t sell coffee.”
Me (mortified): “How do you not sell coffee?”
Subway Dude: “We just don’t.”
Me: “Do you know where I can buy coffee around here?”
Subway Dude: “Erm…there’s a gas station two blocks down the road…”
Me: “It’s abandoned.”
Subway Dude: “Oh, well, uh… there’s a gas station four blocks down the other road.”
Me: “Why does no one sell coffee in this neighborhood?”
Random Homeless guy behind me: “Cus black people don’t drink coffee!” **
Me (turning around): “Well THIS black person drinks coffee!”
Four blocks later I come to a hole-in-the-wall independent gas station. They have coffee. Angels sing and confetti falls from the ceiling (at least in my head).
I get two cups, and march back to Jamie’s.
** It’s a black neighborhood.
I stop studying when I get this look:
It’ll be there in the morning!
Oy vey!
So, last night Jamie and I got our boomkats on at the Townhouse.
The DJ played Pop Lock & Drop It immediately after Walk It Out (ie, Jansen wiles out.)
Jamie stopped dancing and just sat on the speaker like “What the hey is this nutcase doing?”
Tis’ how I do…
Best thing ever was Jamie later on…
Jamie: “So what is that drop lock pop? Lock pop drop? Whatever the hell it’s called!”
He butchered the name so much that I started messing up!
Me: “Well the drop pop…wait, dur-da-dur!”
We’ll work on it.
Last night I took a break Civil Procedure and checked on some blogs.
I pull up the Moon Goon blog and see that the Moon Goons were OPENING FOR FEDDE LE GRAND! And for only $10! Gasp!
I had a little over four hours to finish CivPro, ConLaw, Torts, walk home (I was downtown), and do laundry… oh, the motivation power of good house music…
Jamie and I arrived at Spin early and watched the nerds.
It was like watching the revenge of Erkle: there about six guys were skipping around the club wearing highwater khakis, suspenders, and thick glasses.
The dance floor was dead except for the Erkles and a pair of awkward Forever-21 rejects…an hour later the dance floor is packed. The nerds are break dancing and a rotation of gogo dancers starts. It was a hilarious night. Boomkats abound. Pictures!
