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A terrifyingly wet playground

30 Aug

Pretty Much…

Alan and I took his kids to Splashdown Waterpark yesterday. I’m still recovering, so I don’t have time for a full post. Instead, I’ll just share a few pearls of wisdom with you:

First: the Lazy River is actually pretty fun when you’re not sharing it with turds. Seems obvious, but if your only other waterpark experience was like mine, then this actually comes as something of a revelation.

Also: the Lazy River is also a far cry from lazy. It’s more like a treadmill. We spent the better part of two hours playing tag by swimming laps around the lazy river. Not sure about the kids, but I’m wiped out.

Second: Water Slides? Kind of terrifying. I’ve never liked the closed-tube kind because it makes me claustrophobic, so I thought I was wise by choosing the open slide. I should’ve realized my instincts were failing me when I saw that the closed-tube version had a congo line forming to ride it, while the open slide essentially had a wad of tumbleweed milling about on its steps. Instead, I thought, “Suckers!” as I sprinted past.

Then halfway down, spinning wildly in circles and banking like a professional luge athlete, I found myself grabbing blindly at the sides of the slide, trying to slow myself so I wouldn’t go flying off it. And while they don’t have a mirror at the bottom, if Alan’s expression was indication, my face morphed from “Oh shit!” to “Thank the Lord!” as soon as I exited the slide. One and done.

Third: If you have a weave (by which I mean an elaborate hair piece), please don’t go to a waterpark. Or, if you’re going to go, then twist that mess up on top of your head. Otherwise, you look crazy walking around with butt-length hair, trying to keep it dry when you’re at a place called SPLASHpark.

Finally: I could spend an entire day watching people sit on the in-pool water fountains. At one point, Alan’s son was sitting on one and I caught Alan’s eye. “I’m not sure what’s happening,” I whispered, “but I’m pretty sure it’s either going to end with your son shitting in the pool or sporting a boner.”

And with that we left.

You’re welcome, Splashdown.

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I took the bronze in sarcasm.

12 Aug

The Olympics are over? Seems like they just started. I really wish they’d drag them out for the full summer – or at least a month – so I could enjoy them. This year I feel like I missed the events I really care about – diving and women’s gymnastics – and only managed to tune in for the more obscure events.

Here are few observations from what I did see:

  • Equestrian jumping: Who designed the course? Add a water element, a windmill or a dinosaur and I’d mistake it for a putt-putt course.
  • Table tennis: I was quick to discount this since the equipment is most commonly used in America for beer pong tournaments, but after watching a few matches, I’ve withdrawn my judgement. They should just rename the sport “Trigger Reflex” so it’s more accurate.
  • Beach volleyball: Apparently this is the first year the women weren’t required to wear bikinis. Um, seems like you should be able to wear whatever you want as long as it doesn’t give you an unfair advantage (like stilts or a jetpack).
  • Men’s pommelhorse: I don’t have testicles, but this event makes me cringe because it looks like they’re perpetually on the brink of smashing their nuts. Which begs the question: Do gymnasts wear cups?
  • Canoeing: These guys look like Gondoliers fathered by the Hulk.
  • Trampoline: It’s like diving but with a ton of height and without the water. It’s no wonder Cirque du Soleil sends talent scouts to the Games. Brilliant.
  • Hoops: I was prepared to make fun of this one, but it’s actually pretty mesmerizing. I imagine that these women go on to perform as exotic dancers during the off-season, but maybe that’s just because our DVR got stuck with a woman in a rather suggestive position. “That’s unfortunate,” I commented. Alan’s response? “Let’s leave that up for a few minutes.”

What events caught your attention?

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For once, I’m not the one in the hospital!

14 Jul

I’ve spent a decent amount of time familiarizing myself with the Emergency Room in DC over the last two years, between getting hit by a car, having my leg do some random swelling thing, and thinking I had appendicitis. Based on my experience there, I assumed all hospitals were a flurry of activity, with nurses racing around, EMTs wheeling people in on stretchers and Code Blues being called over the PA.

So this morning, when Alan, my friend Kelly and I went to the VA Hospital in Ann Arbor to visit a classmate who wasn’t able to attend our reunion last night, I felt like I was in The Twilight Zone. The hospital was practically empty, with gates stretched over corridors and a closed sign hanging over the window of the gift shop. We walked the entire length of the building and got up to the fifth floor with only encountering ONE person.

It very much felt like we were in that television show The Walking Dead, where only zombies and a handful of humans populate the Earth.

Adding to the creep factor? The one person we saw standing behind the information desk when we entered the building. I approached him and asked, “How would we find out where our friend is and if she can receive visitors?”

He glanced up from whatever he was doing but made no move to the computer. “What the last name?”

“Allen,” I said. Without breaking eye contact, he said, “She’s up on 5 North.”

“SHUSH!” I exclaimed, causing him to stop speaking. (I didn’t remember this but Alan pointed it out after the fact because it was rude but the guy DID shush.) “How were you able to do that, without looking at a computer or anything?”

“I’m the chaplain,” he explained. “I’ve been up a few times to visit her, but she’s had doctors in there every time I go by.”

At the time it seemed like magic, but that was before we walked through the abandoned building and realized it was like a card trick where there’s really only ever one card that can be pulled. With seemingly no other patients, of course he knew who she was and where her room was. In retrospect, I’m a bit disappointed that he didn’t head us off at the pass by greeting us with, “Your friend is on Five North,” before we even asked. I mean, I’m pretty sure she’s the ONLY patient in the place.

After we found her, we asked if she needed anything to make her stay better. Candy? Books? Magazines? She shook her head, then relented, “Actually, some kind of mindless gossip magazine like People would be great.” Alan seized on the opportunity to go scout for one, leaving Kelly and me to chat with her in private.

Some ten minutes later, Alan reappeared, holding a book and a magazine. “Looks like you were successful,” I commented, before seeing what he’d actually retrieved.

At least it wasn’t this…

“Actually, the gift store was closed,” he said. Sheepishly, he held out his bounty. A Smithsonian Magazine and a Ken Follet novel. “But I found these in the waiting room so I thought they might work.”

Well, so much for reading about TomCat’s divorce. More like the fall of Rome. Which, I suppose, is probably better reading for someone in a VA hospital anyway. Good thing we didn’t go looking for games – probably would’ve only located Battleship and Stratego.

Now I’m wondering what the cafeteria serves. MREs?

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Four Random Observations

3 Jul

RANDOM THOUGHT #1: Just called a person named Gene. Opened the call by saying, “Hi, Gene!” and then completely cracked up and couldn’t finish my message because I was hung-up on having said “hygiene.” I’m sure that *never* happens to him.

Also? I’m wondering about people named Jack now. Hijack? After some serious head-scratching, I’m really glad to report that I can’t think of anyone I know named “Brid,” “Biscus,” “Jinx,” or “Min.” If you do, please give me a reason to call them.

Double also? Good thing I don’t want to reproduce. Otherwise, guess what I’d name my kid? Now it’s a toss up between Perbolee,  and Bernate – both of which sound like they could kind of work in the south. (And yes, I realize I’ve played with the spelling. I tried to make them more name-y, so chill, Spelling Police.) 

RANDOM THOUGHT #2: Just me, or do raw onions smell like concentrated body odor. I pitched some off my salad and into the sink, and every time I venture into my kitchen now I think there’s a homeless man hiding behind the fridge.

RANDOM THOUGHT #3: I don’t care how shiny it makes things – you should NEVER use furniture polish to buff your floor. Even if you plan to run around barefoot, it’s a BAD idea. And if you wear socks? Forget about it. Trainwreck.

RANDOM THOUGHT #4: The best time to color your hair is NOT after you’ve finished a ten mile bike ride on a hot day. Unless you enjoy trying to shove the equivalent of ballpark franks into thin plastic gloves. Actually, maybe this needs to be broader: do not attempt to put on thin plastic gloves immediately after riding a bike. That means you, dentists, surgeons, pedicurists, and proctologists.

Just me, or is one of those things not like the others? Clearly the dentist, because they’re the only ones who put their hands somewhere most people don’t find gross.

Actually, now that I re-read this, rather than labeling this “Random Observations,” I’m thinking it should simply be called “Tips.” Consider this a summary of my advice to you:

  1. Don’t use the word “hi” when opening a phone conversation unless you’ve thought through the implications
  2. Name your child the suffix of a word that begins with “hi”
  3. Don’t put onions in your sink
  4. Only use furniture polish on your floor if you want to watch guests fall down (who doesn’t!?) 
  5. Don’t ride a bike
  6. Get a pedicure
You. Are. Welcome.

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That awkward moment when…

7 Jun

Sometime in the past year it has become popular to share a status update that begins with, “That awkward moment when…” and then recount something horribly embarrassing. Apparently it’s become so pervasive that my brain now does real-time narration of situations to let me know it’s been an awkward moment.

Or perhaps I’m just lucky enough to always find myself in awkward situations, and I now have a catch-phrase for it. In any case, without further ado, here’s my list from just THIS WEEK:

That awkward moment when your male boss walks out of the women’s room. And you realize the bathroom is actually mislabeled and you’ve been peeing in the men’s room for three months.

[Smack your head moment: So THAT’S why the toilet seat is always up!]

That awkward moment when everyone is trying to pinpoint where the “patchouli” smell is coming from and after proclaiming that you HATE patchouli because it reminds you of stoners who don’t shower, someone produces your new vial of perfume and says, “FOUND IT!” 

Perhaps I should start smoking weed. 

That awkward moment when you’re surrounded by a 55 Scottish bagpipers and you realize you’re a) the only woman, b) the only American accent, and c) likely the only person wearing underwear in the room. 

Well, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be a minority. 

That awkward moment when someone identifies the odd smell on the elevator as BODY ODOR right as you call it out as BASIL.

Kind of makes people wonder a) what you eat for dinner and b) what your armpits smell like. Perhaps this explains my attraction to the nasty patchouli perfume? 

That awkward moment when the gap in the stall door is wide enough for you to see someone sitting on the toilet – and you realize they are praying.

True story. Happened to me in Logan Airport. Fortunately, my flight had just landed. Otherwise, I would’ve thought some jihadist was in there making her peace before getting ready to take out my plane. And I would’ve had to kick her stall in. But since I’d landed safely, I figured, “Probably just a nun pooping.”


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