he was bouncing like a bunny... and i ate my skirt...

Summer vacation is over! I've been back in class this week and reading a lot of Gertrude Stein. I wouln't say that she's my hero, but the class is a lot of fun (although quite a lot of work--I've already read 2 books, several articles, and written 3 short papers in the last 4 days).

Last weekend we were in Thunder Bay (Ontario) for my cousin's wedding. I'd been warning Josh about my relatives for quite some time now--I always find them a bit overwhelming. To my surprise, he took to them like mosquitoes to a juicy leg! He really liked them. Ha ha ha! I find this funny for some reason. The wedding itself was fun. The best part was the reception--it was pretty classy. Josh and I were sitting at a table with some of my older (slightly irreverent) cousins. After a great meal, some questionable entertainment by the MC, and several shots of vodka (I lost count), we started dancing the night away. The highlight of the whole weekend for me was when we did the "Smid mosh pit." Basically all of us were jumping around and banging into each other like human bumper cars--and the funniest part was seeing Josh bouncing around the floor like a bunny rabbit!!!!! I didn't know he had it in him. It was a very memorable sight.

A couple years ago Margo and I were driving somewhere and we stopped to get gas. Margo was driving so she was pumping the gas. Margo was also wearing some kind of wrap-around skirt. Apparently, while pumping the gas, this skirt unwrapped, or re-wrapped itself on the ground instead of around her waist. Suddenly she jumped in the car without finishing up with the gas. Margo informed me that her skirt was falling off; would I please finish pumping the gas while she readjusted things?

Today I was in a big rush on the way to class. It was also a severely windy day. I stopped for gas in Hawarden. Suddenly a huge gush of wind came up and I was eating the bottom of my skirt. What I mean is, my skirt was billowing around my face. What I mean is, I looked like that picture of Marilyn Monroe when her skirt is being blown upwards by some invisible force. Except I'm not Marilyn Monroe, and my skirt was completely obliterating the whole top half of my body, AND I don't think I looked like I had planned the whole situation (like the photo of MM does). Oops. Embarrassing. I occasionally believe in karma. A couple of years ago I laughed hard at Margo. Today I was pretty sure she was laughing at me, somewhere up in Winnipeg. Congratulations to you, sir, with the grizzly face sitting in your grey Ford F-150 staring at me and my underwear.