Well, if I wanted to play catch-up then I’d probably go back to fall. We attended the Michigan Renaissance Festival and spent over a hundred dollars on plastic cups of beer and one flowery wreath for my head. Oh, and twenty bucks to get Gigi in. (Yes, I realize how crazy that was. She’s a lucky bitch.) So that was weird, touring Dorkdom. I don’t think that I have ever covered so many miles while drinking so much alcohol. I usually drink, sitting at the bar. But there was sun, hiking, crafts, two beers in each hand and a thousand Captain Jack Sparrows stumbling around with us.
And this was because Brad suggested we “get out more”. I assure you that he has lived to regret those words.
Halloween was also a highlight of this last quarter. Joined by the only other person who has held onto her Nsync CDs (or so it seems, because we can’t talk about POP anymore, it’s not grown up) Nicole, our teams (which included Nick the Twin) toured four haunted attractions together. There was the corniness but intimate construction of a haunted hayride, the dark and bumpy paths of a haunted corn maze, an impressive haunted manor with dedicated actors and an unforgettable, no-kids, haunted forest (www.terrorfied.com).
The forest had every important element. Small groups, length, seriousness, a natural set, a budget for props and costume that have been added onto year after year, illusion, obstacles, all of it tied together by a string of dim, bloodied lights overhead. I learned that it was sometimes best to be the leader, quiet and swift, allowing those behind you to feel secure enough to speak and trigger all the traps after you’ve walked by.
We discovered that a gorgeous county park some twenty minutes from here has some of the most beautiful hiking trails. We walked through the forest, followed along a small peninsula’s shoreline, went way the heck out on skiing paths, all with Gigi trotting along. There was one part where a few yellow trees were clustered together like a spot of gold in the never-ending canopy, and I stood there for a long time, admiring how we glowed just like some goddamned beautiful painting.
Now it’s snowing and they have put the 24-hour Christmas station on at work, which upsets many. I am different. I like knowing all of the songs and yelling whenever Bing starts to croon, no matter who is around me at the time to have heard me ask the entire room a dozen times before and loudly, “Hey, didn’t this guy beat his wife!?”
It puts an interesting spin on the whole scene. It isn’t always Bing, either. I’ve started asking that with every old guy.
Brad just came into my room and read over my shoulder, “…he has lived to regret those words.”
“You know, all the crap I’ve been making us do. I thought I’d update my journal.”
“Aw,” he leaned in, bending down to my level, “I’ve had a lot of fun doing all of that wit’chu.”
And he kissed my cheek.