What I Did On My Summer Vacation (An Essay by Erik Hagen)
So I've left Medora in my rearview mirror, and all I have taken with me is the memories. And three bags full of pirate gold (which, incidently, Woo Hoo!! Woo Hoo!! WOO HOO!!).
On that note, please take the time to thank Kelly for filling in for me last week, because I won't. I will say this, though. Geekmobile? Dude, totally not cool.
What was I talking about again? Oh, yeah. Medora. Come, gather around, children, and I'll regale ye with a tale of adventures on the high sea.
Arrr...
I'll keep this short, since not much happened. Here's what I did.
I rode a horse. This was a first time for me, probably because of my deathly fear of four-legged animals that are bigger than I am (elephants, giraffes, wooly mammoths, lions, tigers, bears, certain types of apes, etc.) But I did it. And I didn't even poo myself. Can't say the same for the horse though.
Ugh, poop jokes. Have l really sunk this low?
I got one of those old timey Western photos. This was Jessy's idea, as was the horses, and basically everything else we did that didn't involve cable television, pizza or a motel bed. But, yeah, I now have a black-and-white photo of me wearing a tophat and a coat that was three times too big on me and my girlfriend in chaps. You take the good with the bad, I suppose.
I ate a lobster. First night, at the Rough Rider Hotel, they had a restaraunt right in the hotel. So that's where we ate because, hey, how conveniant is that? So, since I have way too much disposable income lately, we had lobster. And, yes, I did wear a tophat and a monacle while I ate it. And, yes, I spoke in my best Thurston Howell III imitation. And, yes, Jessy did sit at a different table from me.
On a related note, Jessy's eyes were practically swollen shut the next day, so apparantly she's allergic to shellfish. Who knew?
I got sunburnt. Again. I burnt the hell out of my face at the company volleyball game earlier this summer. Then I did it again at the State Fair. And then I did it again on vacation. I officially only have the capacity for two colors: pasty white and bright red. Guess which one I am right now?
I added to my collection of useless things. So what'd I get? A walking stick. Yep. A walking stick. I think it makes me look sophisticated. My mother thinks I look like I'm making fun of crippled people. If I am, it's not intentional. I also got a talking cow. But not just any talking cow. This talking cow is crazy. Squeeze his hoof and he goes, "Moo. Moo. Moo-oooo-hoo-hoo. Ha ha. Mooooo. Mooooooo. Hahaha. Moo-OOO-oooo. Heehee. Moo. Moo. And shakes. Needless to say, I named him Mr. Shakes and he now sits proudly on the couch in my office.
Other than that, we drove for long periods of time, I got carsick, threw up a little bit, stayed in three different hotels because of our poor planning, had two Italian sodas (grape and melon), went swimming, accidently exposed the city of Medora to the sight of my slightly flabby, mostly hairy, ghostly white belly, signed a legal document promising never to do that again, packed, unpacked, packed again, unpacked again, signed about fifteen guestbooks (ex: signed the Medora Visitors Center guestbook, "The pork was delicious!"), took a picture with a tiny tree, annoyed my girlfriend approximately thirteen times in three days (Yes! New record!) and was run out of town on a rail.
And, no, we didn't go to the stupid Musical. You like the Musical so much, why don't you go? Huh, huh? Why dontcha?
Ok, now my fingers hurt, so I'm calling it a day. Thanks for reading. If you're planning your own fun-filled weekend in Medora, see if you can find the three tiny bags of pirate gold I buried somewhere in the park. Wait, I probably shouldn't have told you about that. Stay away from my gold!
Next time, I ain't promising anything, but I might have a surprise for you. Actually, it's not my surprise, but it'll surprise you anyway. So if you have a weak heart, track me down on the streets and I'll give you a hint. But then you'll have to promise to act surprised anyway. So start practicing.
-Erik Hagen
/Yes, Kelly, blogging is hard. Really, really hard.
On that note, please take the time to thank Kelly for filling in for me last week, because I won't. I will say this, though. Geekmobile? Dude, totally not cool.
What was I talking about again? Oh, yeah. Medora. Come, gather around, children, and I'll regale ye with a tale of adventures on the high sea.
Arrr...
I'll keep this short, since not much happened. Here's what I did.
I rode a horse. This was a first time for me, probably because of my deathly fear of four-legged animals that are bigger than I am (elephants, giraffes, wooly mammoths, lions, tigers, bears, certain types of apes, etc.) But I did it. And I didn't even poo myself. Can't say the same for the horse though.
Ugh, poop jokes. Have l really sunk this low?
I got one of those old timey Western photos. This was Jessy's idea, as was the horses, and basically everything else we did that didn't involve cable television, pizza or a motel bed. But, yeah, I now have a black-and-white photo of me wearing a tophat and a coat that was three times too big on me and my girlfriend in chaps. You take the good with the bad, I suppose.
I ate a lobster. First night, at the Rough Rider Hotel, they had a restaraunt right in the hotel. So that's where we ate because, hey, how conveniant is that? So, since I have way too much disposable income lately, we had lobster. And, yes, I did wear a tophat and a monacle while I ate it. And, yes, I spoke in my best Thurston Howell III imitation. And, yes, Jessy did sit at a different table from me.
On a related note, Jessy's eyes were practically swollen shut the next day, so apparantly she's allergic to shellfish. Who knew?
I got sunburnt. Again. I burnt the hell out of my face at the company volleyball game earlier this summer. Then I did it again at the State Fair. And then I did it again on vacation. I officially only have the capacity for two colors: pasty white and bright red. Guess which one I am right now?
I added to my collection of useless things. So what'd I get? A walking stick. Yep. A walking stick. I think it makes me look sophisticated. My mother thinks I look like I'm making fun of crippled people. If I am, it's not intentional. I also got a talking cow. But not just any talking cow. This talking cow is crazy. Squeeze his hoof and he goes, "Moo. Moo. Moo-oooo-hoo-hoo. Ha ha. Mooooo. Mooooooo. Hahaha. Moo-OOO-oooo. Heehee. Moo. Moo. And shakes. Needless to say, I named him Mr. Shakes and he now sits proudly on the couch in my office.
Other than that, we drove for long periods of time, I got carsick, threw up a little bit, stayed in three different hotels because of our poor planning, had two Italian sodas (grape and melon), went swimming, accidently exposed the city of Medora to the sight of my slightly flabby, mostly hairy, ghostly white belly, signed a legal document promising never to do that again, packed, unpacked, packed again, unpacked again, signed about fifteen guestbooks (ex: signed the Medora Visitors Center guestbook, "The pork was delicious!"), took a picture with a tiny tree, annoyed my girlfriend approximately thirteen times in three days (Yes! New record!) and was run out of town on a rail.
And, no, we didn't go to the stupid Musical. You like the Musical so much, why don't you go? Huh, huh? Why dontcha?
Ok, now my fingers hurt, so I'm calling it a day. Thanks for reading. If you're planning your own fun-filled weekend in Medora, see if you can find the three tiny bags of pirate gold I buried somewhere in the park. Wait, I probably shouldn't have told you about that. Stay away from my gold!
Next time, I ain't promising anything, but I might have a surprise for you. Actually, it's not my surprise, but it'll surprise you anyway. So if you have a weak heart, track me down on the streets and I'll give you a hint. But then you'll have to promise to act surprised anyway. So start practicing.
-Erik Hagen
/Yes, Kelly, blogging is hard. Really, really hard.
posted by Erik Hagen at 12:06 PM
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