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Mis-adventures in Sparkle City

August 21st, 2008 by witherow

This past weekend, Christy, Rachel and I headed to Sparkle City—a.k.a. Spartanburg—to attend a National Federation of the Blind (NFB) convention. The plan was that all three of us would go to the conference all day Saturday, then I would drive them to a hotel and go home since I was singing in church on Sunday and couldn’t miss. On Sunday morning, Rachel and Christy would walk from the hotel to the convention, finish up, and I would pick them up that afternoon. In reality, the weekend didn’t quite go as planned … but it was definitely an adventure to remember.

We started bright and early on Saturday morning. First stop: Sonic, where Christy and Rachel got breakfast and I got a latte. (The only reason I didn’t get breakfast is because I had just eaten some of my favorite breakfast food of all time: pie.)

We arrived at the conference, sat through it for a few hours, and then left for good. The people there were all very kind, but let’s just say we have major philosophical differences with the NFB and didn’t really belong there (if you are interested in what our objections were, see the tirade below).

So we headed to the hotel Rachel and Christy had booked, which was easily within walking distance of the convention. It was a beautiful building, too, with marble columns, fountains outside, sculptures … maybe a little too beautiful for 80 bucks a night. This was Question Mark In Our Heads number 1. But the lettering on the building clearly said “Extended Stay Hotels.” It was etched into the marble, but it said it nonetheless.

QMIOH no. 2 was the fact that the main doors were locked.

“This is strange,” thought Emily. “Why would they lock a hotel at 3 in the afternoon?” But she could see a sign through the glass doors that said “Visitors must sign in at the front desk,” so obviously they expected us!

QMIOH no. 3 was the fact that we walked all around the building only to find that all of the doors were locked—except one. We walked into the big, echo-y marble lobby and found said front desk, looking very much like someone there had just stepped away for a moment.

“Hello?” we called. No answer but our own echoes.

“Is anybody here?”

Still no answer.

“Is this a hotel?”

Nada.

“Did we miss the Rapture?”

Finally I found a small directory with all of the Extended Stay locations in the U.S.  Strangely, the location we were at was not listed. I found the nearest one in Spartanburg and called the number.

A nice man answered the phone. I explained the situation and told him we were at 100 Dunbar Street.

He paused. “You are? That’s the corporate headquarters. I didn’t know they were open on weekends.”

“Oh, uh … well, we got in, so you might want to check that out. Anyway, do you mind telling us how to get to the right place?”

The man kindly directed us to the actual hotel, which would have been impossible to walk to. So it was a good thing Rachel and Christy weren’t going back to the conference!

Then Rachel and Christy checked in, like for real, since they decided even if the conference was a dud, they could have fun goofing off and staying up all night in a strange place. 

Since the rest of the evening lay before us, we called up my cool sister Heidi, who lives in Spartanburg, and met up at the local mall. We mostly chatted, walked off some of our lingering emotions from the conference, and threatened to sue one another for “impermissible discrimination.”  

Then after conference-calling people in California and Arizona over Skype messenger (isn’t technology great?), I returned to Greenville and Rachel and Christy … did whatever it was they do wee hours of the night—something that probably involved junk food and instant messaging each other from across the room.

We reunited on Sunday for a lunch at Steak and Shake. So the weekend wasn’t a complete loss. We had a good time and now have a whole slew of new inside jokes. Impermissible discrimination!

 

****

Warning: what follows is a rare PumpkinAnkles tirade! Read on only if you dare.

Here is my take on the NFB philosophy: The sighted world is out to get blind people and doesn’t want them to have any rights. They show their “impermissible discrimination” when they do bigoted things like tell them where to sit on airplanes. If you’re blind and someone challenges your rights like this, implying that you are not fully independent, then run to the NFB and they will take care of you. Don’t worry, they won’t try to work out a solution with the company; they’ll just bring a nasty lawsuit against them. Obviously when people have had their pants sued off, they will develop love and respect for those who now have their money. Bleh. I say the NFB takes the cash they make in America defending the questionable Right to Sit Anywhere I Want To On An Airplane and send it to places in Asia and Africa where the blind aren’t allowed to get jobs or go to school. And if you think I sound disgusted with this, you should have heard Rachel and Christy!)

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“The Nutritional Value of a Food”

August 10th, 2008 by witherow

Here’s a classic case of Asian little-girl cuteness gone wrong. Somebody gave my sister Molly a little journal from Korea. The designers were obviously enamored with English characters but not quite sure how to handle them.

The journal cover is designed to look like a cereal box. It features a cute kitten and a little green-haired boy pouring milk into a smiling cereal bowl beside a bar code and pretend nutrition chart.

The wordage reads as follows:

Cookietong ORANGE BOY

If you want to be happy. make a nice smile. Give you happy virus!!

“What a nice surprise!”

Sweet biscuit

NEW! Low-fat

The Nutritional Value Of A Food
Love 300point
STRAWBERRY

Happy ….. 30g
Power ….. 50g
Tropical …10g
Sweet ……20g

NET WT 12.2
QZ(300g)

Only Today 24$

Hmmm … I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t pay “24 dollar” for sweet biscuit strawberry cereal, especially if it’s going to give me a “happy virus.”

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Funniest post yet: Ticket Poetry

July 20th, 2008 by witherow

As I have mentioned before, my friends and I share the same bizarre sense of humor. This is especially true of my friend Mike DeStefano. A year or so ago when I was in grad school, we tried to get a group together to see Leave it to Psmith by P.G. Wodehouse, a hilarious play I recommend. Securing the tickets was going to prove a little tricky, requiring some advanced planning over email. Normal people’s email might go something like this:

NORMAL PERSON 1:

We need to get tickets for the play. I will save a place in line. Then when I have have to leave and go to class, you and Molly can come take my place and get the tickets.

NORMAL PERSON 2:

OK. And then I will send you tickets through the dormitory mail system, which, as you know, is also called “night mail,” and about which we have a joke about gnomes that try to intercept all things that go through it.

NORMAL PERSON 1:

Yes. This is a good plan. Thank you for your time.

*Normal persons then go on with their normal and somewhat boring lives*

Not so with us. We decided to spice up our correspondence by parodying famous poems. It looked something like this:

EMILY:

Mike and Molly,

Would you, could you, at that time?
Would you, could you, stand in line?

Seven seats, if you don’t mind,
And those of the four-dollar kind.
And recompense shall not be slack–
(I’ll hound them ’til they pay you back).

I’ll try to get there after nine
And save you two a spot in line.
But once the bell shall toll for ten,
I’ll have to go to class again.

If you would help us get our seats
We’ll take you out for ice cream treats!

=0)

Thanks, guys!

[[staring at a computer screen for way too long,
Emily Seuss]]

MIKE responded e. e. cummings style:

I

Will be in line and stuff

…….thanks for

the placeholding….

…..we……will hopefully

getticketsintime

I hope there isn’t           a

big

line

EMILY responds in traditional Japanese haiku:

your cummings-like verse
made me laugh out loud at my
desk, making a scene.

Our good friend Steph may
be able to get tickets–
She has connections.

MICHAEL MANLEY HOPKINS DeSTEFANO:

As the sun shines, slowly
Spanning its warm welcoming width
On the long line loyally latching
With persistence the Psmith passes perilously
Molly and I will with waiting take
The tickets tolling our evening’s
diversion delightful and delicious

(…the audacity of me to parody a well known poet to an English major…I must be out of my mind maddeningly)

EMILY DICKINSON PARK:

Your Madness makes Poetic sense
I like—the Way it Rings.
So remember—not to take Offense
When this non-Music major—Sings

Uncertain we are, but Four tickets
May come—to Stephanie
That she will Purchase from a Friend—
Then tickets we Need—Three.

This Alteration of our Design
Still teeters—hangs Uncertain—
Wednesday—I’ll be in Line,
And let you know—
Then—

ALFRED, LORD DeSTEFANO:

Half a yard, Half a yard, Half a yard onward,
Into the Lobby of FMA, Up to the P&P window
Marched the two ticket-seekers.
People in front of them, People behind them
Still they marched on
They accomplished their mission
Noble Two Ticket seekers

(P. S. In case you thought my cadences too ambiguous, I wanted to let you know that we got the tickets, all four of them. would you like me to give them to you or shall I keep them? You might be the more organized, safe solution.)

EMILY CARLOS WILLIAMS:

so much depended
on

your ticket-getting
today

I only appear organized
but

I can keep the tickets
safe

MICHAEL R.R. DeSTEFANO:

Seven tickets for the friends going to the play
Four tickets from me who purchased them
Three tickets will I night mail to you
One ticket I will keep for myself
In the Land of Smith, where I reside
One ticket to let me in
One ticket to admit me
One ticket to bring me,
and to Psmith admit me,
To the land of Britain where Psmith lives

EMILY POUND:

In a Station of the Theater

The apparition of these British chaps and all
PSmith in Per form ance Hall

MICHAEL LEWIS CARROLL

Twas brillig, and the lavender gnomes
Did waltz and try to steal the night mail
All chartreuse were the evil gnomes,
And the tickets were black and white

One two! One two! and through and through
the Vorpal spoon went snicker snack!
She left them dead, and with her tickets
She went galumphing back.

(Check night mail tonight for the tickets).

E.R.P. TOLKIEN (okay, I admit, I repeated a poet. oops.)

The hours go ever on and on,
But yet from the Dorm where it began
The night-mail seems not to have gone,
Check the Smith box, if you can.
The night-mail guys with weary feet
Decided not to go the way
Where BJ guys and Siddons meet.
And why is that? I cannot say.

(That is to say, I didn’t get the tickets. I hope they’re still in the box.)

EMILY REBECCA LOUIS STEVENSON (after the tickets appeared the next night):

Under the wide and starry sky
‘Cross campus did the tickets fly,
Borne gladly by a night-mail guy,
And slipped beneath my door.

Into my handbag, way down deep
In cavernous darkness now they sleep,
There have I put them, and safely keep
Where gnomes can reach no more.

Posted in Poetry that oughtn't, Strange E-mails, Uncategorized | tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | | 1 Comments

Adventures in North Carolina

July 15th, 2008 by witherow

This weekend, Christy and I headed up to Swannanoa, North Carolina, to visit dear friend Rachel. It was the best road trip we’ve had since … I don’t know. When was our last road trip, Christy?

As a very wise Internet cartoon wrestler has said, every road trip needs a good inside joke. This trip’s joke was “sheep.” Just laugh, it’s funny.

We set out early Saturday morning. First stop: Spinx, where we filled up on gasoline and junk food to last the trip. I purchased a small Frappuccino and then realized I needed to clear out my cup holder if I was going to enjoy the highly caffeinated delight on the way up. So I downed the rest of my large cup of French roast coffee that I had just made that morning and put the cup in the back (I didn’t want it to spill), and then started on the Frapp. Not until later did I realize what I had done. But I was just fine fine finefine <<twitch>> fine fine fine!

REBA THE GUIDE DOG: There she go! People are stupid, I mean it.

We didn’t get lost, which is amazing since every time Christy rides in my car I make a wrong turn that usually adds 20-60 minutes to the trip. But Christy—your power over my sense of direction has met its match.

We arrived at Rachel’s house around 10, where we were met by the exuberant Rachel and the even exuberant-er guide dog Mattie (also called Matilda, Matsters, Fattie Mattie, Mattress and other variations).

MATTIE: Oh boy! People to play with me! Just what I deserve!

We, of course, had a great time with Rachel. We spent a lot of time online watching cartoons, instant messaging each other from across the room and sending ridiculous sound clips, etc.

We also got to talk to Rachel’s mom and dad, who were awesome the whole time. Such sweet people!

We then decided to have a Grand Adventure and visit downtown Asheville nearby. Rachel’s mom was a great help with giving directions.

After arriving and paying this weird machine five dollars so no one would tow my car away, Rachel, Christy and the dogs and I wandered around, looking for a place to eat. We finally settled on Wild Wing Café, where we ended up talking about health food versus junk food (ironically, while munching on mozzerella sticks and eating barbeque wings). Christy and I are opposite: I love veggies and don’t care much for junk food, while Christy loves her Bugles and fried Oreos and hates vegetables of all kinds.

We then went exploring some more. There were a lot of restaurants and shops and people walking dogs and such. Reba and Mattie did well with their guide work, besides a few oopses. But overall they were great. Even when the guy dressed as a clown barked at them (and Rachel told them off with an “Excuse you!” Go Rachel! Boo for rude clowns).

OK, to be fair to the random clown, maybe he didn’t mean it, but it is extremely rude and even dangerous to distract a guide dog, especially in the spot where we were, with cars and people and things in the way. Christy or Rachel could have been hurt if the dogs had paid attention to the clown instead of their job. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to be amused.

REBA: I slap the sheep out of you, I mean it.
The shops we visited included a groovy mineral store.

Honestly, I loved it, because I absolutely love stones and geodes—I love the textures and colors. And the guy at the counter was super cool—very helpful and friendly. But despite the major coolness factor, the store was pretty New Age (but what do you expect with giant quartz crystals everywhere? And I do mean giant crystals. There were some there that were probably over a foot long and probably weighed like 40 pounds, I would guesstimate).

There were a lot of New Agey things downtown, including a store that sold windchimes called Gaea’s (that’s the New Age Earth goddess), stores that sold incense, one called Instant Karma or something, and so on.

Another thing I noticed about Asheville is that there are a lot of people sitting on the sidewalks playing guitars, drums, and I even saw a guy walk by with a wooden flute. The thing is a lot of them kind of look like scruffy and maybe even homeless. So it kind of wasn’t as cool as it sounds.

And though there are good pedestrian-friendly areas, the sidewalks are all kind of broken and covered with old gum spots (which I didn’t tell Rachel or Christy. Grin). Overall I think Greenville’s downtown is much nicer.

On the way back to the car, we stopped at the coolest coffee shop ever. It was an old British double-decker bus that had been converted into a restaurant.

On the first level you can order coffees, coffee frappes, smoothies and more. I got what was called a “nuts and berries” smoothie—raspberry and tiny bits of hazelnut … it was amazing!
On the second deck was a seating area, with bus seats converted into dining booths.

MATTIE: Um, those stairs were not fun. Where’s the elevator?

The tables were slate and you could write on them with chalk! So I illustrated the day’s adventures.

Here’s Christy in the front with Reba, Christy holding the keychain she bought, then me (and I didn’t mean to make myself gigantic next to everyone else … I’m not really that tall). I’m holding a bag with a rock in it … because I bought an awesome geode tealight holder from that groovy mineral store). Then there’s Rachel and Mattie, Rachel holding a poorly-drawn bag with the present we found for her mom’s birthday (don’t tell!).

Rachel’s mom then spoiled us with a great dinner, and then we spent the evening basically goofing off again.

On Sunday, we had a chance to visit Rachel’s church. I really enjoyed the pastor’s message—he’s a very down-to-earth preacher and obviously loves the Lord very much.

After a relaxing afternoon, we finally had to say goodbye. Alas the day!

On the way back, Christy and I went to Cracker Barrel and got a bluegrass CD that was perfect for the drive back through the mountains. And then I made one wrong turn, but it doesn’t count because I knew where we were the whole time, honest!!!

Posted in Emoticons, Uncategorized | | | 0 Comments

Emoticons–Stephanie style

June 11th, 2008 by witherow

Yep, here are some more from an email today. Can somebody say … too much time on our hands?

ME

Long-lost roommate! Can I crash your Taco Bell party with Rebecca tonight?

:=3) That’s a guy with a big flabby nose smiling at the thought of Taco Bell.

Uh, he’s not invited, though.

:=3( [frown]

That’s better.

STEPHANIE

Hee hee. Yes, you can crash our party. We like it when you do. :)

:=>) that’s a guy with a roman nose who is smiling at you because he likes you.

but you don’t like him back.

:=>( [frown]

that’s better. :)

ME

oh boy!

Cl:oB that’s a hillbilly with buck teeth who also isn’t invited.

he’s frowning , but you can’t tell because of his large dental units. :)

STEPHANIE

>8} (evil man)

{:E)8 (a 1900s man with the straight part, a mustache, and a bowtie)

Posted in Strange E-mails, Uncategorized | | | 0 Comments

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