swag

swag: promotional items, especially when given free, considered as a group; slang for stolen property.

"Do not fear, we need not steal this remarkable and coveted memento," Nichole said. "Besides, Alisha's not wearing enough clothing for us to hide it under," I added. "And just in case we forget where we got this bucket full of cheap beer from, we can look on the side and read SOUVENIR- MERIDIAN SPEEDWAY. Gawd I love 'merica."

Gill drove again in the annual boat race demolition derby. We came to watch and support. He did surprisingly well. Last year his car engine crapped out on the third lap and someone stole his boat. But don't mention it, he's still a little heartbroken.  This year though, he did a fantastic welding job and his car was decked out in beautiful artwork, hand-crafted by all your favorite/loveable local tattooist from Inkvision in Boise, ID. Ahh, how I love them so.

At any rate, we had a magnificent time and even after losing his boat, Gill was able to weld on another one, reenter the race and finish third or so.  I talked to him yesterday and no one is more gung-ho for next August.

Oh ho ho Kendall, you are good people.

regret

regret: to feel sorrow or remorse for

With confidence, I have little to no regrets in my life.  I honestly understand; live and let live, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, no use crying over spilled milk. Frankly, there's a reason why I have the following tattooed on my body...

"the weight is a gift"

However, every now and again there is that one fleeting moment that I wish I would have done differently.

12;10pm. Ten minutes late for my lunch break.  The bright orange gas pump light on my dashboard blinked with indignation; I had neglected it for far too long.  So, we, my car and I, made a trip to the Shell station on Federal Way. Begrudgingly I got out, forked over my debit card, and shoved the pump into the tank. The day was bright, washing everything in yellow.  I put on sunglasses and tapped my foot, waiting impatiently.  I looked to the right and in pulled a small cloud of sunshiney dust. The cloud stopped, the dust settled, and an old Ford pickup materialized. Out came a man, a very handsome man, unconventionally handsome. He smiled at me, shook out a card from his wallet, and shuffled into the store. He was wearing slippers and eating a sucker. Not sure that even matters, but it was half the reason I smiled back.  For the first time, in a long time, my heart stopped.  I didn't die, obviously, for it was only a moment.  A moment during which I thought to myself, "post-it-note + my phone number + gorgeous old ford truck + cute guy = ...hmm?" My mind was ticking, percolating even.  Then the gas pump clicked and demanded that I answer that stupid question about whether or not I wanted a car wash when there isn't even a car wash at that gas station. I sunk back to reality, chicken-ed out, and got into my car.  As I was driving away, I pounded my head on the steering wheel and said aloud, "stupid stupid stupid."  I should have given him my number.

Sounds silly, huh?  Yeah, well I don't get "butterflies in my stomach" often, so when I do I trust my gut.  Remorse, yes a little. Regret, certainly.

And to you, Mr. Gas Station Man, wherever you are, whoever you're with, they are lucky to have your company.  Especially if you are generous enough to give them rides in your pick-up.

I want a truck. And a man (well that's complicated, but when push comes to shove, sure why not). Two for one would be most ideal.

p.s. did I tell you about the old rusty black Chevy pick-up that I see on my walk to work every morning? I pass swiftly with envy. If only I owned that truck.  It's parked across the street from that sing shop on Highland. Looks a little like this...

but with more character, sits low to the ground and everything!

demolition derby

demolition derby: my life's ambition (or at least one of them). no really, demo derby is a motor sport with rules varying depending upon the event, but typically demolition derbies consist of five or more drivers competing by deliberately ramming their vehicles into one another. The last driver whose vehicle is still operational is victorious!

possibly the most entertaining demo derby event is BOAT RACING! This event is considered a "banger race", where drivers have both a vehicle and a boat attached without trailer, they then race around the track trying to annihilate as much as possible along the way. And don't worry, if you loose your boat, you can always push one around. 

Saturday night we took my nieces to the Meridian Speedway to see my friend Gill drive in said event.  It's funny, my two-year-old niece loved everything about the night.  Every time a loud hit happened, she'd turn to me with wide eyes and purse her lips together saying, "ooooh!" But my six-year-old niece, the bigger one, was terrified the entire time.  I don't think she likes loud noises. Anyway, Gill had a couple of epic spins, but burned out quickly.  For sure I'll bake him some cookies to cheer up!  There was once talk of doing so in exchange for a tattoo, but I'll do it sans tattoo now.  During the race my sister leaned over our shared nachos and insisted, "Monique, you should text Gill!"  And I responded, "I think of all the times to text and drive, now would be the least appropriate time to do so."  We both started laughing hysterically.  Soon after the race ended we decided that once Alby's car goes to the clunker gods (it's getting there) we're going to paint it pink and then enter a demolition derby! Raaaawr!! sorry, I really felt like growling. Demolition derbies will do that to you.  You'll walk away wanting to destroy something, anything really.  I just ended up vigorously ripping apart a post-it note I found on the bottom floor of my car, Hulk style.

perfect! I've been wanting an excuse to use this old political cartoon from the last presidential election. Now seems fitting...

proprietor

proprietor: a person who has the legal right or exclusive title to something, owner

I am now the proud proprietor of a new car! in-full, paid-off, I own a 2004 Toyota Corolla. Honestly though, I thought buying a car would be more daunting. Instead, the whole process was purrty darn easy. My new car has only had one previous owner, low miles, and a meticulous service record. I feel like I am renting it...it's strange, going from not the most glamorous of cars to a nice (R.I.P. Betty the Boat), bright, and shiny, newish one. Nevertheless, I named it Snowhite and together we will go many miles.

written 4/25/2010

semana diez

¡Que extraño!: “how unusual!” in Spanish

In the span of a single hour I saw both a Truck-taxi and a Fox motor cross shirt with Jesus on it. I have seen the most peculiar things in this country. Moreover, I have stopped asking questions and just started accepting that I might see a man roaming the streets trying to sell desk lamps on one block and a parade of kids dressed as the Virgin Marry and Batman riding horses (a traditional celebration called “Pase de Niños”) on the next.



día cincuenta y ocho: 03/03/2010 Monday was “Día de las Mujeres,” a national Ecuadorian holiday that celebrates women. It seems like a silly holiday, kind of like Flag Day or Mother's Day in the States. But, when I got home from class, my host dad gave me a big hug and warm words of appreciation, he also bought my host mom a pretty flower arrangement with a card that said, “Happy Women’s Day to the woman/love of my life." Ahhhh, how sweet. They seem to have a touch more sentiment for the women in their lives her in Ecuador.  Oh, this reminds me, come to think of it, I have never once seen my host parents be affectionate toward each other, you know like kiss and smooch and all that gushy stuff.  It’s weird because I still get this sense of deep love and care between them despite no PDA

feliz dia de mujeres- this is me and my host mom. yes, I'm wearing a funny dress. just read week 9

día cincuenta y nueve: Anyhow, Tuesday came and I went running in the rain. It was refreshing. Also reminded me of how much I miss running in the states, where I can have my headphones in and it can be late at night and I don’t have to be as preoccupied with the thought of security or of running into a cow (no joke, in the parks here people bring their cattle from the countryside and just let them free to eat the grass and drink the river water, it’s quite startling when you’re running along and all of a sudden bump into a cow, one time I even scared one and it fell into the river a little, poor thing. I may have already told y'all about this).

día sesenta: On Wednesday no one was home for dinner, so I made Mac n Cheese!!! (really Trent, it’s not that gross). And when I went upstairs to pee, the bathroom door was locked! I had to climb through the window from the terrace on the stairs. It was very sketchy. Later I learned from my host mom that they were having plumbing problems in the house. I figured as much and for this reason I didn’t use that bathroom, just got my toothbrush and stuff.  I really needed to pee too. Side note, you cannot flush toilet paper in the country of Ecuador. Regular plumbing here cannot handle it.

día sesenta y uno: Thursday I bought nail polish and painted my nails fire-engine red! The nail polish was only $1 a buck 25, unheard of in the States. I bought it at this tiny hair salon on my way home from school. For dinner we had a scrumptious “torta de arroz," it’s a fried patty of rice and cheese and egg. After dinner I was listening to Nick’s most recent playlist that he has sent me, when my host mom’s autistic niece wandered into my room. She’s 5 years old and hardly reacts to anything, but as soon as she heard a punk cover of Regina Spektor’s “Ghost of Corporate Future” she lit up with a brilliant smile and started making all kinds of noises. I decided to try a little test, I switched the music over to another genre and Dora’s niece went silent. I switched it back to punk, Millencolin and the Ramones this time, and again she went berserk. It was amazing to see. All I could think was, “Behold, the power of punk rock!!!”

Ok so the last bizarre thing I saw this week was found along my walk to school. I was running a little late, so I had my head down and my concentration on my stride, trying to walk as fast as I could without tripping over something. But then a semi-crumpled semi-scribbled-on picture of a dad laughing while holding his toddler daughter caught my eye (see Arbitrary post). This random picture reminded me of some of my own pictures, angrily thrown away and forgotten about memories. It made me stop and think...inevitably, I was late for class.