Redneck step-uncles: the best kind of redneck uncle.

You know how I've been having issues with feeling like reality is surreal? Well, the worst thing to do in that state of mind is go to a haunted house. I was scared shitless. Ryter's knuckles suffered quite a bit.

Loquelo, Loquelo's housemate Quiesa, Ryter and I went to the Haunted Acres in Epping, where they've got two haunted houses, a haunted maze, and a haunted walk through the woods. Ryter had never been to a haunted house before. We went to the Haunted Saloon/Mineshaft first, where I made the mistake of going last, and thus was the victim of the various monsters who followed us a bit too closely. Quiesa would scream bloody murder when people jumped out, which made the whole thing five times scarier. It was all Western-themed. Ryter said "Hi" to all the actors, just randomly.

The next one was the Atomic House, designed to show nuclear fallout. For this one they gave us 3-D glasses, which did make the whole thing very psychedelic and a bit like an acid trip, but which also, alas, refused to stay on, and when they were on they made it very hard to find my footing on the floor, which went up and down at random times. I wound up taking them off for the uneven parts. The strobe lights were a challenge, though. At one point someone jumped out at me while I was messing with the glasses and I shrieked, which was one of the few times Ryter actually admitted he got scared.

Then we went to the maze, which was just that-- a maze-- only in almost complete darkness, with hidden doors from which costumed people would wander out, surprise us, and follow us. We got lost a few times, and this one guy with a meat cleaver who looked exactly like Loquelo in the darkness got between Ryter, Quiesa and I and Loquelo, and trapped us in a dead end. Thankfully they weren't allowed to touch us so we got past him, but he followed us all the way to the exit and scared the CRAP out of Quiesa. Meanwhile Ryter and Loquelo were laughing, and they both have these high-pitched, creepy laughs that weren't really helping matters.

Then we finished by doing the quarter-mile Nightmare Walk through the woods. First guy we see has this big-ass sword and comes running straight at Quiesa, raising it in the air. She shrieked and cowered. Of course he didn't touch her, but she was crying as she laughed afterwards. The walk was by far the scariest. Even Ryter was scared, at least until he figured out the pattern of where the people were hiding, waiting to jump out at us. There was a six-foot-high dragon, lots of ghouls and witches, and a guy with a real, running chainsaw that smelled terrible. I admit, my heart was in my throat. The fact that we were in the woods-- and thus there was real wilderness on either side, and we accidentally went off the path once, and it was REALLY dark in spots-- made it much worse.

Ryter LOVED it. Especially the Atomic House and the walk, of course. He had a ball. Me, not so much. I don't like being really scared, and the fact that I have had trouble with reality vs. fantasy lately was making it very, very hard. I didn't realize it would be that bad. Still, it was fun, and I'm glad I went with someone whose hand I could grab onto and basically not let go of the entire time...

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Yesterday was Ryter's grandfather's engagement party. Basically, like 40 people of his extended family on his dad's side, all gathered together in this little ranch house... It wasn't that bad. It was a bit claustrophobic at times, but everyone was really nice, and Ryter's favorite uncle was there from LA as a surprise, which was cool. Plus we got to laugh at the antics of his redneck soon-to-be step-uncles in many different levels of sobriety.

Ryter has learned that his uncle, a man he and his entire family does not like, is paying for the bar bill at the wedding (which will be one day after I turn 21, incidentally). Thus, he and much of his family has decided to get as plastered as is humanly possible, as fast as possible.

I will be driving us back from this wedding, methinks.

How Erudite of Us

Today was the Brother's prom night, so we dolled him up and took a bazillion pictures. He was very patient, in his schmancy tux. A year ago, I was going to my senior prom... wow. That's kinda daunting. Only a year-- I feel like it's been so much longer...

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But this morning, before that, Shrewd took us over to David's Bridal so she could try on bridesmaid's dresses. I have to say, there is no place on earth with more estrogen than a bridal shop. Build-A-Bear pales in comparison, even. There were four males in the entire shop; one worked there and looked very effeminate, and the other three were nursing.

I've decided that the thing for me to do is have a Roman wedding. Girls get Grecian dresses, very pretty, guys wear togas and get to carry weaponry because that's the only way you get a guy into a toga when he's not going to get plastered with his frat, and at the reception, couches instead of normal chairs. Awesome, no?

Come on, TOGA WEDDING. How can you go wrong?

(PLus, togas are MUCH less expensive than tuxedos.)

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This evening, Mummy, Daddy, Shrewd and I went out to dinner and then to see Shrek III, which was not as good as either of the previous Shreks, but I hesitated to see Pirates because there was talk, a while back, of me and Ryter seeing that together.

But while the movie was bad, we had a very interesting conversation on the subject of weddings, specifically the cost (Daddy thinks he has to pay the full cost of my wedding, to which I said, "I'll pay at least half" and Mummy said, "You may not be able to afford it" and I said, "If I can't afford it I'm clearly not ready to get married," meaning, if I feel the need to have an extravagant wedding despite being unable to afford one I'm clearly not ready for the financial responsibilities that come hand-in-hand with getting married and potentially having children).

The talk of weddings must have annoyed Daddy (well, specifically, the fact that I was saying that I wouldn't let him buy me a house as a wedding gift [he was probably joking, but it's the idea that he feels the need to provide a wedding and gifts as a sort of dowry] and Shrewd said she didn't intend to marry at all), because he changed the subject, and we started talking about religion via a question about Ryter's last name.

Now, follow me here... Ryter has a very Jewish last name... my mom then made fun of me and my sister for "always chasing the Jewish boys" (not fair, Shrewd's at Brandeis, that's all there IS)... I pointed out that he's just Jewish in lineage, but actually Buddhist... she began to pepper me with questions about Buddhism. Because you KNOW dating a person makes you an expert on their religion, I mean really.

Still, we wound up having a very insightful, intellectual conversation on literalism in the Bible, mistranslations, the original texts and the omitted ones, like the Book of Esther, I think it was, which was apparently too feminist for Peter-- and how all of this has led my father to view the Bible as a whole with a skeptic's eye. He's Christian, but he understands other influences on the Bible. It was just the sort of insightful conversation we used to have around the dinner table before we started having dinner around the coffee table, watching TV.

Awkward is as awkward does...

It's too late for a full-out entry, and Loquatia's having enough trouble sleeping as is. That said:

-Group is awesome. They make me laugh. Alas, I can no longer talk about my actual communication problems because most of them involve either how I might talk to a guy about relationship stuff. And I can't ask a group of mostly males how to talk about male-female interactions with males. So awesome, but useless. Is that okay?

-Awkward: Guys talking about stuff that gets tossed in the urinals. And knowing that it's totally your fault for mentioning Fruit Loop target practice at daycare.

-More awkward: Getting asked by someone you are dating "So what would you want your wedding to be like?" This is awkward no matter how hypothetical it is. It will continue to be awkward until you are actually planning a real wedding with the person.

-Even more awkward: Saying "Hmm, that's a little gay" as in, that thing reeks of homosexual undertones, then discovering, whoops, damn, your boyfriend's friend, whom you are meeting for the first time, is a homosexual. I'm sorry! I try not to stereotype people as homosexual if they lisp! No one warned me! Gah...

-Probably the most awkward EVER: Two guys talking about sex in front of you, in a totally casual tone, as you sit there awkwardly playing with your hair with a very intent look on your face, silently cursing yourself for mentioning how you first met your hall president when he was going door-to-door looking for a spooning partner for a friend of his, because it is totally inadvertently your fault that you are using your hair as a curtain to hide the blushing.

"Bring something up from the back burner."

My sister is to be a bridesmaid at a friend's wedding. This is most likely going to involve a dress. Specifically, Shrewd in a dress. Maybe even heels. And a bridesmaid's dress, at that, which are notoriously bad...

Bwahahahaha! Schadenfreude!

But only because it's Shrewd, and she has a tendency to say my Facebook profile pictures look deformed. Or my face looks deformed. She didn't specify her meaning. After her complaints about my most recent change I was considering just giving up and sketching myself, but I've since had two boys tell me the most recent "deformed" image was perfectly fine, so I stick out my tongue in her general direction and I'll put the new one back up tomorrow.

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Chemistry is killing me, but meh. I'm used to it. I'm also dying slowly as a result of my brain slowly liquefying and escaping though my nose. It's also possible that I have a cold, but I find it hard to believe I have this much fluid in my head without some of it being part of my gray matter, dissolving due to the close proximity to Spring Break.

The violent sneezing is no doubt helping the liquefication process, through repeated banging of the brain against the inside of my skull. I normally sneeze an average of 5 times in a row, but if I have a cold it's upped to like ten, and each sneeze brings tears to my eyes and nearly knocks me out of the chair.

I'm sure I look real attractive right now, bleary-eyed and drippy with a big ol' red nose...

And I'm really tired, too, because I haven't been getting enough sleep and I'm sick. I slept through the first half of a lecture today, which wouldn't be so abnormal if it wasn't at 6 pm...

Speaking of that lecture, here's today's Bad Typing Error Of The Day: "Have Faith! If I can do you, anyone can!"

I Am A Romantic Realist

I tend to be grounded when it comes to romance. Sure, I can fall hard... but only for someone I've gotten to know. And once I'm in love, I can be a total romantic goofball... But I'd never admit it to my friends!

Are You Romantic or Realistic?

Technicolor Dreams

Last night I dreamed I was at a society wedding, with lots of tuxedos. The groom and the bride, in true Romeo-and-Juliet fashion, were from opposing sides of a family feud but the families had agreed to put aside their differences for the sake of the wedding. Nevertheless, there was a lot of concern about someone starting a fight, so there were several undercover agents scattered about. Still, no one saw when a man- who wasn't a member of either family- set off the timer on a bomb in the corner. Luckily one of the agents noticed and deactivated the bomb, but not before it was seen by a member of the groom's family. Amidst cries of foul play, the men of both sides drew their ceremonial swords (whose idea was it to have ceremonial swords- sharpened ceremonial swords- at a wedding between two warring families?) and prepared to battle. Then my alarm clock went off.

I was kind of bummed. I wanted to see that sword fight.