Friday evening, I got to go watch my sister graduate from High School. I got the distinct impression that far, far too many people had been waiting far, far too long to have a valid use for the song Party like it's 1999 or whatever that song is. Egads.
It reminded me a little of my High School graduation, except that
There was little rebellion or excursioning in sight at this high school graduation, except for the guy who put on his sunglasses indoors for his 'graduation picture'.
Somehow I was persuaded to wear a suit to this event, this transition point, this exercise in wackiness. I must say I looked rather keen, especially with my bright red tie. I'm in favor of bright red ties. If you're going to be forced to wear a tie, you should wear a tie that causes wincing in those nearby. Besides, my tie with all the fish on it was somewhere in the back of the closet.
I was also probably the most 'together' member of my family there, simply because I'm self-sufficient. Not as much as I should be, perhaps, but definitely more than, say, your average gerbil. As usual, my mother was running around panicking and trying to get my sister into a state of togetherness so she could be shoved out the door and onto route. And my father showed up late because he was preparing to leave on a trip the next morning. And he didn't have time to put on a suit, which means, for once, I was better-dressed than my own father. Not only do I consider this a horrific affront to every ounce of teenage rebelliousness that I really ought to still have in my veins, but it provides ammunition for the next time he criticizes me about... well, just about anything. Buwahaha.
I still can't believe I was talked into wearing a suit. Ah well.
The graduation ceremony was like most (except this one had, for their speaker, a retired Marine Lt. General who managed to be funny and yet also encourage the graduates to actually learn to use the computer -- and not just e-mail -- because otherwise those funny little people in far-distant lands are going to do awful things to our infrastructure and economy. He's right, of course. The only thing that could have made his little speech better would have been if he'd said "Oh, and remember... Always Read The Manual."). Well, it was like most private-school ceremonies, anyway. In other words, they could afford to be a bit lavish because there were only 65 or so students graduating. But really, one high school graduation is like any other.
Except in this case, they got to sing I hope you have the time of your life by Green Day as the closing song -- with one of the students doing acoustic guitar accompanyment. A punk song -- even if it was an acoustic version. Shoot me now.
After the graduation, it promptly began to hail.
And I'm not making it up, either. There we all are, driving along, heading to a fancy restaurant to grab some keen desserts, and all of a sudden, it starts to rain. Hard. And then, the little hail-stones start hitting.
Not the best of omens, I must say. But then, it's not my graduation, so what do I care?
It had stopped hailing by the time we got to the restaurant (a classy, yet laid back affair called Chez Pierre's). We ordered coffee, wine, salads, and chatted. Chatted for a long time, actually, because those darn salads took forever. It must have been past the last call for salad or something and they had to wake up some novice to fumble his way through it. Good salads, though. Worth the wait.
After the salads, we moved promptly to dessert. Double-dip flem brule (I have no idea if that's the proper spelling). It was soft and espressoey on the bottom, choclatey on the top, and with a little slice of strawberry. Mmm.
I can't remember what we talked about. I think they got me off on a rant, and I completely lost touch with reality until it was done. Ah well.
Then, back home, to discover one of the wonders of living in the suburbs awaited us -- no damn power 'cos of the storm. This was turning into a really ominous day. We (after sprinting in through the rain) lit candles and hung out, until my sister took off to some graduation night party. It was actually fairly entertaining, with the booms of lightning and all. Er, booms of thunder, I mean. FLASHES of lightning. Ah well.
I stayed over that night, because I'm going to be house-sitting for my parents while my father's away on some business trip, and my mother and sister are in another state for vacation. I get to keep track of the family dog (who's old but not yet surly) and the house. And work. Happily, it doesn't take that much longer to get into work from their house as it does from my apartment, despite the fact that it takes a good 20-25 minutes to get from my apartment to their house. This is due to the wonder of Interstate 10 which runs... or curves, rather through town. Mmm. Highway drivin'.
Tomorrow: "So, is it just me, or have we picked up another pathetic life-form?"
X-Force #92, which is this close to finding itself on my "drop" list after Yet Another Of Those Damn Time Travel One-Shots.
Dark Angel #1, which has inspired me to avoid any further episodes after proving itself to be Just Another Fantasy Manga Series.
Birds of Prey #8, which was Damn Cool, if I may say so myself. Nightwing guest-stars, but the focus is still on Oracle/Batgirl, who gets... character development!
Vext #6, which is now cancelled, which is a shame, because this issue about everyone's favorite God of Misfortune is probably the best yet. Lots and lots of wacky dream sequences...
Neon Genesis Evangelion Volume 4 Number 4, which is still mostly re-hashing the anime plot-line about the splitting Angel... although it adds more character development to the fight stuff, and handles things a bit better.
Promethea #1, which rocks rather impressively. It's another of Moore's "new take on an old archetype" book, which uses a bit of the old Wonder Woman motif, plenty of wacky ol' legends, and a large helping of good writing.
Pantheon #4, which continues this vaguely Kingdom Come like plotline of a feud between two groups of 'heroes' in a world where almost all supervillains have been vanquished. One group who wants to protect the world... the other which wants to rule it for its own good. Absolute power corrupts absolutely... and stuff.
Meanwhile, in another sub-plot, Goku (the tall, perky, super-charged Saiyan-warrior-in-orange-jumpsuit) is still en-route.
Meanwhile, Frieza berates his minions (and blasticates one of them) for not bringing back the Dragonball, even though there was no way they could have found it. Zarbon is sent off to retrieve Vegeta so they can interrogate him.
Zarbon finds Vegeta sprawling by the crater, barely alive, and hauls him back to Frieza's ship so he can be popped in the regenerator and healed prior to his interrogation.
Frieza, meanwhile, has decided not to wait until all his minions are dead before calling for reinforcements to crush the opposition with utterly superior firepower. Ut oh.
Meanwhile, Yaumcha (?), Chen and Ghost Boy (the Three Dead Guys) are still training under King Ki. And surprise, they're finally fast enough to catch Bubbles the monkey. Piccolo (the surly green alien guy) thinks this is incredibly stupid, and says so. Especially when the next task is revealed to be hitting an anthropomorphic cricket with a super-heavy bat. Nonetheless, all the heroes manage this task in record time, whereupon Piccolo has finally had enough, and challenges all three of them to a fight to prove he's more bad-ass than their puny training.
Meanwhile, Krillan is still flying back.
Next episode... whup-ass? Finally?
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