Short Story Long... pt. 1

I don't know about anyone else, but I am immensely relieved to bid the holidays adieu. This season usually holds a lot of magic for me, but for some reason it just didn't click this year. It was December 26th before I even realized that, in spite of partaking in all the usual traditions, I had completely missed Christmas. And I was okay with that.

In fact, I'm really glad it's over. Soon we'll be able to drive places without getting stuck in shopper traffic (which will be fab since my closest friends live half an hour away from me... in opposite directions). We'll be able to bum around at the mall without getting stampeded. Of course, all the gyms will be packed with New Years Resolutionists in a week's time and working out will suck for the next month, but at least things are starting to get back to normal.

I've slept a lot this break and have been complaining perpetually of my boredom, but it's actually been a pretty eventful vacation thus far. I shall attempt to summarize, but you know this is going to become an epic game of Short Story Long.

Episode One:

Last Saturday I was sick of my family and needed to get out of the house (I'd been home for a day and half so far) so I called Wanda, who was still at school in the city, and said to get ready for an adventure; Adam Ezra was playing a show all afternoon and we were going. I had just decided. Well, no, I decided in November that I wanted to go; I just failed at planning to do so until the thing had already started.

So we get to this thing. It's upstairs in a brewery I saw Adam at once before with my roomies and Jo-Yo. But that time it had been late at night and there had been lots of drunken grown-ups dancing like horny teenagers. One woman lassoing men with her scarf particularly stands out in my memory. We kept a tally of how many people she danced with, giving her extra points for dancing with multiple guys at the same time. We didn't know what else to do with her. Oh and a creepy old guy may or may not have hit on Mnomanoms.

That night, Adam played two of my requests, Another Sunshine and Desperate Plea from the Heart of a Shit-head. The second one is not really a noisy brewery kind of song and the rest of his band didn't know how to play it, so Adam played it solo acoustic. I felt so special. Then after the show I talked him into sending me an mp3 of it even though he's only got a rough copy so far. This has not happened yet, and I suspect it's because he's been drunk both times I've actually spoken to him about said mp3.

Which brings me back to the original story of last weekend with Wanda. Adam had already been playing for a while when we got there and took an intermission just a few songs later. When I went to say hello, he remembered me and that he owed me an mp3. I was impressed. We didn't talk for long, but after the second half of his set I went over to say goodbye and ended up writing a reminder on his hand in bright orange Sharpie. Wanda was disappointed later on when I told her I wasn't giving him my phone number. She thinks we should get together. Aaand I might have a little crush on him, as well... ^_^

But I didn't have much hope of seeing the mp3 because once again, Adam had had a bit to drink. I can tell because he does what I do when I've had a bit to drink - i.e., he gets rather cozy with everyone regardless of how well he actually knows them. I got about five hugs from him before leaving that day (and he told me the way I spell "Mandii" is cute ^_^).

Wanda and I both made it home before a foot and a half of snow swamped the entire state. And that concludes adventure number one. Lest this post become so long that no one wants to read it, I shall leave off there. Stay tuned for episode two, in which I and everyone I know had our minds blown by Avatar.

Peace, love and The Half-Blood Prince,
Miss Rex

Dinner with Dasher and Dancer

I was perusing my recent posts and noticed it's been too long since I posted anything not titled "Excavations of Claymore: bla bla bla" or "Scatterday." The reason for this was a little thing we call school - more specifically, finals. The fact I posted anything at all over the past month and a half is a small miracle. The great thing about having scheduled posts is that it forces you to write something. Anything. When school's got you down and you can think of a million better things to do, knowing you've got some semblance of a schedule to keep on your blog at least creates a little consistency, don't you think?

But now it's time for a little fun! I miss the normal blogging thing, to be honest. So even though I have two jobs right now that I should be doing instead of blogging, I'm gonna take a minute and share one of my favorite Christmas memories. I've had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit this year in spite of the foot of snow we got this weekend, but I can't help smiling at this memory.

I must have been about nine or ten. Though it was one of the last years I believed in Santa, for the time I believed whole-heartedly; I defended the jolly toymaker to my classmates and took baking his cookies very seriously. The week of Christmas, my dad came home from work with little plastic bags of reindeer food (i.e. dry oatmeal with glitter mixed in) that my sister and I were to leave out for the reindeer to munch while Santa was unloading our loot.

Of course we couldn't get the food up to the roof where the reindeer would logically be, but lucky for us my dad had just finished building a patio out back. Cleared of the summer furniture, it was a wide, flat space that made a perfect landing strip for a flying sleigh. That was where we would leave the reindeer food.

On Christmas eve, there was a thin layer of snow on the ground. My sister and I put on our winter coats and boots over our pajamas and crunched through the snow, sprinkling oats all around the patio. We added a few carrots for good measure (and good eyesight; if anyone needs to see where they're going, it's a team of flying reindeer) and turned in for the night.

In bed, I lay on my back. It was not comfortable, but I wanted both of my ears free to hear when Santa landed. I lay with my head close to the window so I could peek out and see him when I heard the bells, but I was asleep before Saint Nick could make a sound.

My sister was the first one awake. I was quick to follow. We hurried downstairs to find the living room transformed into a maze of presents (more presents than any kid should ever receive at any time of year). But the thing I wanted to see the most was the patio. Had the reindeer eaten their food, or would we find the snow still sprinkled with glitter and marred only by our own frenzied footprints from the night before?

I pressed my nose to the glass slider. The reindeer had been there all right. There were sleigh tracks and everything!

I have no memory of what was in all those boxes under the tree, but I'll remember those sleigh tracks forever. What about you? What Christmas memory will stick with you forever?

Scatterday: Things that are NOT on my Christmas list

Last week's Scatterday post featured things that don't exist but should. This week we're going to look at a few items that exist but definitely shouldn't.

You know your dedication to wearing Crocs year-round has gone too far when you need to buy these:

Crocs suck because:
5. They feel like they're made of condensed packing peanuts.
4. They therefore have no support at all...
3. ...yet somehow also fail to have flex.
2. They may be waterproof, but your feet will STILL get wet because your DUMB SHOES are full of HOLES.
1. They look like effing clown shoes - that is, if someone with a machine gun took offense at the feet of an impractically-shod clown.

Crocs are not winter shoes. Your dumb faux fur lining will do you no good in NEW ENGLAND, where the ground is almost perpetually covered in some degree or form of liquid, because YOUR DUMB SHOES STILL HAVE HOLES IN THEM.

Okay, moving right along. This next segment is dedicated to the most outrageous of all outrageous Twilight paraphernalia. My bottom three are:

3. The Mr. Cullen shower curtain (so you can start every day with getting naked in front of your favorite vampire):

2. Plush Bella's womb - I kid you not. Made with *real* felt and... is that... steel wool?! If not, it should be. Then you could use this item for what it really deserves to be used for: scrubbing the toilet bowl.

1. Last and least, we have the *SPARKLE DILDO!* You're supposed to put it in the fridge before you use it for an authentic experience. o_O

If you want to see more disturbing Twilight products, I just dare you to click that hyperlink....

Oh, and we mustn't forget this:

You see that? "ALL areas accessed!" Just in case you want to get more, ah, intimate than sticking his character's ice cold, glittery you-know-what, you-know-where.

If you're as visual a person as me, I'm sure you now have a very uncomfortable scene playing in your brain. And with that scene, I bid you adieu.


Excavations of Claymore: TEA MAC!

I don't know who Tony Mac is, but if I ever meet him, I'll be sure to have a trophy ready in recognition of his exquisite taste. The TEA MAC! is the best thing I've tried all year. Of course it can't hold a candle to miss Sarah Schneckleface Mac, but it's the closest, coziest thing I've got for now.

I'm like a tween to Edward Cullen where this drink is concerned. Vanilla. Chai. Chocolate syrup drizzle. It's the seventh layer of the Candy Cane Forest, I promise you.

Chai drinks can be over-stimulating. Chai is such a complex flavor that pairing it with, say, the tongue-scrapin' sweet of amaretto can only end badly. But his marriage to plain, simply sweet Vanilla? A match made in heaven. She completes him. She's the moon to his sun, the yin to his yang, the Switch to his Foot.

I say to all you coffee addicts (whose ranks I may or may not have joined this semester), TAKE A BREAK AND TRY THE TEA MAC! You may opt for or against whipped cream... but my recommendation is "for." ^_^

I'd like to thank my Adviser at the paper for this week's outsider opinion. His face lit up at first sip - like I've never seen him that happy except for two minutes earlier when I said I'd unofficially stay on as a staff writer next semester.

"This not only tastes good," said Adviser after choking on a combination of vanilla chai and laughter. "It feels good in the nasal passages! It has a pretty good sinus feel."


If you're not within range of Claymore, fear not! Most coffee shops have these standard flavors. If you go in and ask for a vanilla chai, you'll probably get something close to as good as the TEA MAC! But proceed with caution if Starbs is your coffee shop of choice. What you really want is a nice locally-owned (i.e. non-chain) coffee shop that only brews fair trade and plays indie music while you lounge in the warm, glowy atmosphere. Delicious.


So in case you didn't notice, I actually got my Claymore post up on time this week! Why, you ask? Because FINALS ARE OVER! And I whupped their collective butt! And now I am free forever, ahahahahahaha! ...Or at least for the next three weeks, which might be enough to make a little progress on the much-neglected novel. And a lot of progress on the much-neglected sleep.

Peace, love, and counting sheep,
Miss Rex

Scatterday: If I had my own world...

This week's Scatterday post is all about things that should exist, but either don't, or can't.

First off, we've got scratch and sniff web pages (idea courtesy of Go-Co's student paper photo editor, Paul Wright). This would absolutely revolutionize the Internet! Imagine coming to A Silvertongued Serenade and smelling the tingly scent of a Christmas tree in December or the rich aroma of chocolate on Valentine's Day. Imagine reading Excavations of Claymore and being able to smell the drink I'm reviewing. Think of the marketing possibilities (like our country needs any help with that). Think of the social networking implications! What if you could go on Facebook and experience your significant other's signature cologne or perfume without him or her even being present?

OK, now that we've crossed the creeper line, let's move on to silent velcro! I got this one from the Narcoleptic. There's not much to say, really. Just think of all the times you've been trying not to wake up a roommate or spouse, peeling back the velcro on your briefcase or backpack or shoes at a glacial pace so as not to disturb them. And it would be so much easier to just change rooms and rip it open, but that would require actual movement, so instead you sit there in CCCHHHHHHZZZZKKKKKK-y agony just trying to get the damn thing open and get on with your day.

The last invention of the week is the two-sided Kindle. The Fishbowl and I came up with this one during story time, when we realized how terribly inconvenient it is to stop reading at the end of a page and hold up the picture for everyone else to see. And you can only hold it up for a second because everyone really just wants to get back to the story, so pictures get way less appreciation than they deserve. The Kindle technology is new, but I have every confidence that they could put a double screen on that baby that will display the text on one side and the illustration on the back for such reading-aloud scenarios. Every kindergarten teacher will love it!

And now, some other awesomeness that you should be aware of:

My friend Ravin is in the process of knitting one of these:

My other friend The Cuddle Rapist showed me this. If you have acid, now would be the time to drop it, but you don't really need any for this music video to be as trippy as a screaming hot dog.

I'll leave you with these words of wisdom from Switchfoot's frontman, Jon Foreman: "Hope is living in a world that doesn’t exist yet. Hope is seeing things as they are not. It’s not illogical. It is a dream. And it will come to pass."

Have a fabbity Sattaday!
Peace, love, and Boston Rs,
Miss Rex

Excavations of Claymore: Turtle Turtle

...not to be confused with the drummer by the singular name of Turtle, as he is at least 54 times cooler than this drink. Give the Adam Ezra Group a listen if you have no idea who I mean.

The Turtle Turtle tasted *all right* but, like so many Claymore drinks, lacked any really memorable quality. I give it two stars - it's drinkable, even enjoyable if the barista doesn't burn the coffee, but when there are so many options, why settle?

"It tastes like caramel popcorn (*choke*)," said Jo-Yo, who reviewed in The Addict's place this week. "That's a good thing," she added as soon as she was done coughing.

I didn't notice the popcorn part. Or even really the caramel part. The flavor was very generic in my opinion. If you look for the sweet, you'll find it there, but it's nothing more than a slight counterbalance to the bitter coffee flavor.

Razzmatazz said the drink was "just like a carnival, where it's kind of dirty and lots of people are smoking. It tastes sweet and it's kind of exciting, just like a carnival!"

"She likes drinking dirty, smoky carnivals," Mnomanoms said conspiratorially.

If you do, too, then this drink is for you! If, however, your taste buds are a non-smoking zone (as mine are), stay tuned for next week's review of the TEA MAC!

Scatterday Deluxe

Aloha, my dear friends! Or perhaps I should say "aang!" That's an Eskimo word for "hello;" it seems appropriate as it's quite snowy here this afternoon.

I suppose you're wondering why I've been MIA for about a month now. The answer is the Go-Co chain chomps have been steadily nomming my soul this month, and when I'm not slaving away on some paper/speech/presentation or working my two jobs, I've been living the epic life. It's been such an eventful month; I can't wait to tell you all my stories!

Sadly, now is not the time for that, as I do still have much to attend to: Big presentation Tuesday, final exam Wednesday, other final exam Thursday, and job so I can afford Christmas presents this year. But I do have time for a quickie comprising many, many fabulous quotes!


Me: As a wise white rapper from Colorado once said, "never trust a ho."

Me: If you got a barnacle stuck to your ear, you'd have to keep your head sideways with your ear in a fishbowl all the time so it wouldn't die.

The Addict: If a small scallop were to drive on the highway, he would not exceed 74mph.

The Pantsless One: Ramen is dangerous.
Me: The salt content alone could kill a large snail.


Mnomanoms re: our snail floating in his fishbowl (we did NOT feed him ramen): Our dear Monsieur Nom Noms has gone to the big fishbowl in the sky.

NOTE: This was not the case; apparently floating does not indicate death for snails as it does for most aquatic creatures.


Me: (After spilling an incredibly hot drink all over my hand) FUCK! ....sorry, that was really loud. But why is my drink so hot???
The Addict: Because he put love in it.

A WORD OF ADVICE: Don't do coffee, kids. Once you get used to it you'll never go back. I got my favorite steamer and it didn't taste like anything special (and then it burned me... in both senses of the word). The Addict blames the bar-dude for sneaking in some of that sugar-free AMOR advertised on the flavors whiteboard. So the real life lesson here is, never get your AMOR sugar free. Why would you compromise something like that?


The Pantsless One: Fear not, I'm sure he'll grab your boobs someday.

Ravin: "I'm Hindu" "I'm Buddhist" "I'm a sensual napper"

The Pantsless One: Well he had to cuddle-rape you first...

Me: We can't kill cows! They're magnets!
Bear: Um what
Me: You heard me!

Bear: What food would I be?
Me: Probably an omelet because you're full of random, you're warm, and I never get sick of you.
Bear:, you somehow made me being called an omelet heartwarming.

My advisor at the school paper: I think those Go-Po are no mo'.

Me and our editor in chief: Scrub your dishes with Bella's womb!!

The Pantsless One: I'm getting you the Twilight shower curtain for Christmas.
Me: I will wrap your dead body in it when I throw it off a boat in the Arctic Ocean.


Courtesy of my friend The Bathrobe Guy, who transfered out of Go-Co after last semester D'= but came to visit this weekend!

From midnight (OK, 6AM) breakfast with The Bathrobe Guy:

Me: The piranhas are coming to get you on your English muffin raft!!

The Bathrobe Guy: What? I had to ventilate my trachea!

Me: Indubitably? It means without a doubt. Without a dubit, in fact.

The Bathrobe Guy: The world is my napkin!

Me: This tastes like grilled cheese, but without the cheese.

The Bathrobe Guy: You sound like a smurf when a smurf doesn't sounds like a smurf.

Me: I throw pizza frisbee atchu!

The Bathrobe Guy runs on Energizer batteries. He just keeps going and going….
The Bathrobe Guy’s innards are made of various alloys.
The Bathrobe Guy very well may be the new Chuck Norris.


If you're looking for something more substantial, try my other blog, The Amandangle! I've got two new reviews posted there as well as an article about non-Christians attending my Christian college.

Peace, love, and oatmeal,
Miss Rex
Home | Gallery | Tutorials | Freebies | About Us | Contact Us

Copyright © 2009 A Silvertongued Serenade |Designed by Templatemo |Converted to blogger by BloggerThemes.Net

Usage Rights

DesignBlog BloggerTheme comes under a Creative Commons License.This template is free of charge to create a personal blog.You can make changes to the templates to suit your needs.But You must keep the footer links Intact.