[M.A.P.L.E. VI-29] Quadruple Bogey

The good news: this is not a post about bad golfers like myself who routinely score quadruple bogeys on any particular hole (i.e. take 4 more strokes than par).

However, it sort of is, as three of the “Bogeys” are related to golf. Let me explain: five pictures will be worth a total of the order of a thousand words.

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[M.M.X.I.V. 99] Should have posted this yesterday

This post would have made a good “Throwback Tuesday” post, but it didn’t turn out that way–ha!  This is because yesterday was April 8, 2014, and I had already planned my post for the  This post is from my journal on April 8, 2006, at one of my cousin’s weddings.  We were in Ada, Oklahoma.

Saturday, April 8, 2006

I woke up at 630 and took the Forbidden Actions.  Then, to avoid disturbing (and further arousing) Levi and Georgiy [our Russian foreign exchange student], I took my homework to the lobby.  There, I did my math and started on the [English] 252 and Sociology homework assignments.  I’m not sure how I should best do my English paper.  I’ll find a way somehow!

Grammy invited me to breakfast with Aunt DeeDee, Aunt Cheryl, and Richard.  I had blueberry pancakes to eat.  The general conversation was good, and the breakfast tasted great too.  I returned to the room and continued a bit on my homework, until it was time to go on.

It was cold and windy and cloudy this morning.  We drove to the Elks Club to help set up for the reception for tonight.  It looked a bit like the back of the Allan house, or the lodge at Mahoney Park… yeah. That’s it, the latter of those.  It was a large room with a riverside view and a raised floor, perhaps… I forgot what I was going to say…

I started by picking up the salt, pepper, and sugar, so that the tables could get covered.  It was funny to have me pick up the things on trays, whistling and laughing and chatting.  I’ll willingly do any job needed, because I enjoy working, in general.  Exceptions, of course, include yardwork, [chair-and-table-legs at Runza], and some others.  Then, I assisted with moving tables.  This allowed me to flex my Popeye muscles.  Was Aunt Cheryl impressed or scared by this, I wonder?

I helped unpack and set up the lights.  We configured them to center in on the dance floor.  I helped untangle the packed ones as [my sisters] used the ladders to hang them to the ceiling.  I also messed around a little bit by “wearing” the lights like a shawl.  I had such a great time that I laughed myself into the hiccups!  Now THAT was annoying…

We left and drove in a manner that would avoid “The Bad Intersection.” It has stop signs in a strange manner, with islands and railroad tracks and it’s… even worse than Warlick Boulevard here in Lincoln!  We passed by the East Central University and saw the “cougar prints” in the road.  This neighborhood looked a lot nicer than some of the other ones in Ada.  Casey commented, “It’s just so random here,” to which I agreed.  It’s not bad, though!

We then ate lunch at Bandana’s.  [This is the place that we turned around at yesterday when we tried to find the motel.]  We chatted about sports, because EVERY TV in this place broadcasted the Oklahoma spring football game.  They have a WEIRD scoring system!  Finally, about 30 minutes after we entered, we got a table.  I ordered a hamburger, and everyone ordered something different.  I ordered “dihydrogen monoxide” [i.e. water] to drink, and Casey blew up at me for it.  She needs to calm down!

Although the service was good, the food was really slow (err… flip that!) We left at 1430 and had to return to the Elks Club—Mom forgot her purse (D’OH!)  We took a roundabout route in order to avoid The Bad Intersection.  We looked for red trucks, [because it seemed like every other truck in Ada was red] and we found an ugly-colored truck.  For whatever reason, I started laughing hysterically.  We also passed a “DANGEROUS INTERSECTION” sign, where the word “dangerous” implied blind.  Molly said, “It’s a hick version of One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish” [referring to our counting of red trucks].

We returned to the Quality Inn.  I tried to, and did, finish revisions on my Time story from [English] 252.  It’s a ten-second story about the end of the Lincoln Marathon.  It seems good… we’ll just wait and see what happens.  I caught up on journaling and then continued on my sociology project.  I’m feeling pressured, because I feel like I needlessly crammed for it.  In other words, I could have done more, sooner.  I’ll still get it done on time [of course].

I dressed in a few minutes and had Levi help me tie my tie.  We went to wait in the car and everyone else eventually joined us.  The wedding took place at the University Center at ECU.  The building had an uncanny resemblance to the East Campus Union at UNL.  The wedding took place in an open area that overlooked the clocktower of the next building.  This wedding was short and sweet, and [quite Jewish].  Before the reception, we returned to the Quality Inn so that Mom could get some meds [she was suffering a headache].

At the reception, the band appeared near the elk horns [on the (west?) side].  They played many traditional songs, such as The Girl from Ipanema.  We ate salads, crackers, and hors d’oeuvres, and I sat back and enjoyed the environment.  All of the music tonight should be dance-able, unlike some other dances that I have recently attended coughpromcough.

OK… I was wrong [earlier about my claim that the wedding was only Jewish].  It’s a cross-Jewish-Russian wedding.  The MC made us laugh [as he quipped:] “That’s my first mistake…three and they’ll boot me out of here.”  After David and Anya entered, the socializing resumed.  [(Someone… was it Anya’s mom or Masha?) talked about the cards on our tables that I appeared to read, “Zopoko.”  The English transliteration of that [Russian word] is “Gorka,” which means “Bitter.”  The tradition in Russian weddings is for there to be chants of that word until the bride and groom kiss.  The vodka is bitter, but the kiss makes the bitterness go away.]  Levi responded to this in jest: “Marshal!  Marshal!  Marshal!”

I ignored a request for chicken, so I missed out on it.  Whoops!  Casey offered me some of her chicken, which was nice—she didn’t have to do it, because I retorted, “It’s fine for me to eschew dinner.”  I ate it anyway—it tasted pretty good.  We got “the” speeches [what did I mean by this?  I’ve forgotten…] during the band’s break.  I’ll have to do even more socializing and dancing later tonight.

Fruit and whipped cream came for the first dessert.  It was really good.  Casey tried a sip of the vodka and of course, “YUCK!  That was gross!” [I didn’t even try it, but Georgiy was taking shot after shot.  I later found out that he downed at least a dozen shots.  Unbelievable!]  The dancing then started.  I shifted from Masha to Anya, which I suppose shows a lot of honor.  [The song playing during that dance was You’re Gonna Miss My Lovin’ by Lou Rawls, which became very salient for the whole experience].  It’s been forever since I’ve participated in a ballroom-type dance.  It’s such a great one, and waltzes are great for chit-chat!

We then did  הוה נגילה (Hava Nagilah) with circles and chairs and the contracting circle and more.  A Russian dance followed, and it was clear that us Americans got completely lost.  Anya’s mom tried to guide us, and it just didn’t seem to work.  The Beer-Barrel Polka followed, and I obviously knew that one [the UNL band played it during volleyball and basketball games.  I danced with Mom on this one.]

More songs played (duh), and I combined dancing, chatting, and writing [BIG FAUX PAS!!].  Maybe I didn’t find the “perfect” balance, but I must be close.  At 2200, the band took another break and it was time for cake.  I had [a piece from] the chocolate-raspberry [layer of the cake].  It tasted EXCELLENT!  The band shortly resumed with Louie Louie.  That primes me; I still need to find Brother Louie [for my MP3 player]!

Masha sung a good arrangement of I Will Survive, and then the band played Tiny Dancer.  [Personal comment censored for publication].  I was content to just sit out and watch the dances* and chat with others until we abdicated at 2330.  Returning to the motel, guess what I did?

*FALSE!  I curbed my cognitive dissonance and danced again with Masha.  She considered me her “date.”  I’ve got to understand this whole concept of “date” in the near future.  [It’s not that I was unwilling to dance, it’s just that I was too tired to do much of anything at that point.]

>TO BE CONTINUED…

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Today is the ninety-ninth day of M.M.X.I.V. That makes fourteen weeks and one day.