I can't dance... trust me, I'm not just saying that.

So yeah... the third to last first cousin was safely married off today. I wish nothing but the best for them, I've always been on friendly terms with her, and the guy she picked always has a smile and a friendly greeting for young in-laws. Even AFTER going out to eat with all of us MORE than one time. This requires a certain degree of good-naturedness, patience, and manly fortitude, as the wait for the food seems to bring out the worst of the sick humor in the Vanderbeanies.

The ceremony was cute, quick, and everything Non-Netherlands Reformed that a ceremony presided over by a youth pastor of a mega-church with a shiny eagle on the back of his tux would be expected to be. (Note to self: strapless dresses are not fit for human consumption.) The church was HUGE- think VanAndel. But anyways, we got through all right. Then came the reception. I...survived. They say time heals all wounds.

We rode with our aunt, the mother of the bride, so we arrived first. It was pretty, so once we had the seating arrangement settled, I got down to business with my cameras. I wanted to get the whole scene in the picture, so I climbed up to the second story balcony. I flipped over my camera case to get it out, forgetting I had batteries for the digi-cam stored in it, leading to a battery-based carpet bombing of the ground floor. Luckily, nobody was there yet, and they fell harmlessly. With that encouraging start, I decided to sit down, shut up, and wait for the food. Nothing, I repeat, Nothing (except perhaps a baseball game or Chicago traffic) goes slower than a wedding reception. After 20 minutes, the bridal party showed up. There was a mad rush for the cash bar, then a formal seating of the bridal party. 20 minutes later the white-uniformed servers brought out water. After another 20 minutes we were given bread baskets. Then a couple ding-and-kiss sequences, and the salad. A twenty minute wait, broken up by some scattered camera fire and more ding-and-kiss, and the main course. Garnishing the stuffed lasagna??? was some sliced summer squash and zucchini. If there is one thing you can't accuse me of, it's being vegetarian, and to kill time during the seemingly endless wait for the dessert buffet, I amused myself by pushing all the slices into a green-yellow pattern around the edge of my plate. I was one of the first to patronize the "coffee station," and was just relaxing with a pretty strong cuppa when I hear a rather droll, "Nice design." I had forgotten about that, and was rather embarrased as the bald, Simple-Plan bassist look-alike waiter smiled indulgently and asked me if I was through with my plate. Heh-heh... "Yup, thanks." Anways, the Cannoli and Tiramisu course passes peacefully, until the sound guy throws in a left turn. "Okay folks, now it's time for Mr. and Mrs. D's first dance as a married couple. This would be my first dancing wedding, btw. Next was the bridal party, then *shudder* snowballing time. Everyone on the floor had to grab someone from the tables. Unaware of my peril, I laughed when the super-tall bridesmaid grabbed some little boy of her aquaintance. Then came the second snowball round. I had a slight apprehension, and was keeping my gaze focused away from the dance floor, my attention concentrated on my water glass. Then *BAM!* Two hands on my shoulders and an unfamiliar male voice, "Okay darlin, let's go!" (OH NO, NONONONONONONO, ^&*()*^, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO! GAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!) "Heheh... ahahaha... I really can't dance..."
"Oh, that's okay, I can't either!" *Grins* (GAAAAAHHHH!!!! WRONG RESPONSE BUSTER!!!! I'm NOT kidding... I've never danced in my life- at least not successfully, or in public. Apparantly he was one of the twins in the bridal party who were next-door neighbors to the groom.)
"Uh, okay..."
So I get up in a daze and we sorta bounce around to "Me and My Gang", I go for a twirl thing, which we kinda pull off, then he tries the 'ol country kick thing, with some success, I half-heartedly try it, then I guess he realized I hadn't been kidding him, and we sorta just shuffled around for a while and watched the 3 or 4 people who were actually dancing, and kinda joked around about not being able to dance. Then the song changed and he nicely let me go sit down. "Thank you!" Soon after we left, with me totally freaked out. I mean, I'm not really used to the whole dancing thing. As I told the dude, most people's dancing ablility is direcly correlated to blood alchohol level, and mine wasn't elevated. Also, I've seriously never danced before, at least not with non-brother guys anywhere near, much less WITH non-brother guys. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! But oh well, several key witnesses told me I did fine, and I shouldn't ever run into the dude again because he lives in Chicago, and, of course, time heals all wounds. Still, I can't stop laughing at myself, him, and the whole shebang.

After that we left, watched the skaters downtown, and took a look at Gerald Ford's memorial, which was kinda cool, first time I've ever seen a full-size general-public tribute up close like that.

GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! How am I EVER going to get to sleep again with that whole episode playing around in my mind?! It's bad enough with all my high-school memories.

Well then.

Ah... what is it about having the time to get things done that takes away the desire to get things done? Break is upon us, and the sloth in me reigns supreme. Having recently learned that listing things that need to be done is bad blogger ettiquite, I will refrain, but there are things I should be doing that I am not. I'm good at finding more important things to do than what I should do. Blogging, for instance, and You Tube, which may be my current biggest time-waster. And I find myself getting back into Neopets... Stupid of me. Funny how things change. Neopets was what got me interested in the internet in the first place.

This was oh... 1999, I believe. I had a friend back then that I am no longer in contact with, and she was the one who discovered Neopets, and pushed me into it. Those were the old days, with K-mart's Blue Light internet, which allowed us a whopping 12 hours per month. I treasured my 15-minute sessions dearly, and the times I was allowed a whole-half hour of feeding, buying and selling in a virtual world about drove me wild with happiness. Not quite. But still.

Internet is like meth- one whiff and you're hooked, and the longer you're on it the more you need. It took a while- Blue Light was cheap, and so is my dad- but eventually the bad service, limited hours, and the fact that K-mart was switching to Dad's arch-nemesis AOL, we jumped ship and signed on with AT&T for 150 hours a month. This was still in the age of dialup, and those of you who weren't born this millenium will remember the siren song of the connecting modem, the slow loads, and-most hated of all- getting bumped off due to a phone call. Oh, and did I mention slow loads? Everything seemed to take ages- Neopets games took a good minute or two, downloading was not for the faint of heart, and video was out of the question. In spite of it all, I grew in knowledge- HTML became a good friend, I learned how to ferret out the information I wanted, and life was good.

Of course, human nature doesn't let us remain contented for long. DSL came along, and we were slowly exposed to it's wonders. Again, it took awhile, but when unlimited DSL was offered for 15 bucks a month, compared to 10 bucks for 150 hours of dialup, Dad cracked. The first few months we were in awe, poleaxed by the blazing load speeds, the dizzying video abilities, and being able to talk on the phone while checking our e-mail. Not all the changes were for the best- the strange CSS took the place of my familiar HTML, rendering me nearly helpless where website personalization was involved. Neopets froze my 7-year old account, shutting me off from my fake pets, my very real high scores and honors, and my huge stock of NP. And all my secret avatars. It was a crushing blow. But I had You Tube to soothe me, with all it's obscure TV show episodes, it's anime comedy dubs, it's obscure music videos, and I discovered blogging, to my great happiness and everyone else's complete lack of interest. And now, here I am, more or less settled in to the wonders of DSL. I am no longer startled by blazing load speeds. In fact, I occasionally finding myself irritated with our "slow" computer, having already forgotten that the "slow" computer could still whip the pants off our dialup plan, and could pretty much hold it's own with the old HP. But that's humans for ya, never satisfied. A good thing is never enough, we're always reaching out for the next thing, never being happy with what we have. And then you read the winter issue of the Come Over and Help Us magazine about people who don't have enough money to pay for heat, clothes or medicine, who are so happy and overwhelmed at recieving winter boots, oranges, or a Bible. Can you imagine what they would think even of the old Blue Light internet? Are we happier for having it? Is happiness possible without God?
See what college has done to me? It's made me cling to my past, think seriously about the present, and plan for the future. Bah. I'm getting so sick of all this social awareness. And look at me carry on. All I orginally intended to say was that I survived my first semester of college with a 4.0, and that I Aced my Writing class.

Latte boy, bring me java, bring me joy...

Well, I had some bad java this morning. As far as the McLatte's go, McDonalds is a national chain. They can't rise above that. Get your coffee locally, says I. But, since we're on the subject, here's a little gem I heard on the community radio station on the way back from the cottage a couple of years ago. For some reason it popped back in my head today, I looked it up, and VOILA! Taylor the Latte Boy!



Okay, okay, okay... Yes Mom, yes, I will finally start studying for my *gulp* Math 110 exam tommorow. Buh-bye peoples, let the song warm your heart in this wet, bone chilling weather.

Onwards and Upwards...

Yahoo! Blogger has finally given the go-ahead to switch to Blogger Beta! You can view an updated profile, and be expecting some layout changes shortly as I figure out all these great new options!

Monday a la Mode

Well, as of two days ago chalk up one more hit for the Ventures Christmas Album. Some Dutchman was looking for it on *dah dum* company time. Well, if you one of these European Ventures fans, I highly reccomend this album, it is a showcase of quality musicianship, but you'll have better luck finding it on E-bay. Unless... I'll burn you a copy for $3 and some of your chocolate. Deal?

Anyways, it has been a Monday of note. Lake-effect snow has made walking somewhat of a challenge. I really must give up my scruples and wear a hat and scarf, dorkiness regardless. Hip waders might be a good option too, since the college snow shovelers can't prioritize. There's this lovely bare patch in front of the near-deserted student services building, while the hugely traffiked walkway between Mak and Man is nothing more than a swamp of slush. My jeans are suffering.
As is my pride. I have no wish to see the insides of Manitou again until next semester. Twice, TWICE today I have had the person behind me in line need to point out an open computer that I had totally missed. Bad enough. Then, as I was getting up to leave I stepped on the backpack of the chump sitting next to me, which has sneakily fallen against my chair. The combination of the uneven footing with my haste to get off said backpack before I destroyed a senior thesis or something slowly pushed me off balance, the plastic chair I grabbed did nothing in the way of support, and together we made a nice, curling slow-motion fall. In the middle of the packed-to-the-gills computer lab. Ugh. The chump asked me if I was okay. Well, I kind of laughed, but there is no recovering from something like that. I wrestled my coat on and fled.
So here I am, wasting time in my Writing class. My Spanish class was cancelled. Which I should be happy about, only it was fiesta day today, and I am carrying $4 of now-useless Salsa con Queso in my backpack. The buying of said Salsa con Queso was the cause of some familial friction, so I am a little miffed at it all being for naught. Oh well, at least I can go home and drown my sorrow in some authentic imitation Mexican food.