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What Do You Get When You Cross …

What do you get when you cross AJ Aalto with summer vacation? HEY! That wasn’t very nice. You were supposed to say “golly, a whole lotta fun” or something that was at least not face-slappingly cruel. Boy, I need some new friends.

Here is my vacation, condensed, like that really horrible No-Name Cream of <insert veggie here> Soup in a can that blobs out into the pot with a semi-solid plurp! and makes you wanna hurl? Yes, exactly like that. 

1. A bra burning. It was the only bra I owned that made me appear to have tits. But it had a habit of creeping up, and I’ve never mastered the fine womanly art of adjusting one’s bra while making it look like you’re not. I tend to look like I’m manhandling myself. One eve I got fed up, whipped it off in front of my alarmed friends, and chucked it in the fire. For a moment, the toxic flames flared, revealing a circle of wide-eyed stares. Thankfully, I’m accustomed to having people look at me like I’m off my rocker.

2. Pyromania. Fairly self-explanatory, but for once I wasn’t the only one mucking about with the flames and ashes. My friend Dax had the genius idea to bring paper plates for dinners, which we then burned in the evenings to keep garbage/dish washing down. This will become a new tradition, as it worked perfectly. 

3. Dreams and the pleasure of a nightmare

4. Countless games of Scrabble, most of which I lost. It occurs to me that a writer should be so much better with words than I am. I don’t understand why I suck at this game.

5. A burgeoning collaboration … and it’s totally possible that I misspelled both of those words. Hopefully, the guy I’m collaborating with can spell! Then he can carry my sorry ass to fame and fortune.

6. An unexpected dip into frigid waters, which numbed me from the neck down. I am not someone who enjoys cold water. I like cold temperatures, but hot water. However, I was having a moment, and I flung myself bodily (read: tits-over-teakettle; picture a less hairy version of Yosemite Sam doing an airborne cartwheel) off the end of the dock, drawing a crowd of (again) wide-eyed witnesses. “Wait, Allie’s in the lake??” followed by “Hey! You mean you don’t melt when wet?” at which point I had no choice but to ham-up: “I’m melting … melting! ARGRGLEGRGLE” and clutch my face, dragging myself underwater. I must mention, in swimming out to the platform: something underwater touched me. And I admit, I shrieked like a little girl, drew my knees up and dog-paddled sputtering “something touched me something touched me somethingtouchedmeohmygawd!” OK, maybe lake swimming is not for me.

<There could be anything down there>

All in all, a lovely week with lovely people. I am pointedly not mentioning the booze-binge, as my parents read this blog, and I’d hate for them to … oh. Hi Mom! Hi Dad! Heh heh ….

(editor’s note: AJ Aalto makes killer Black Orchid Martinis, even in a giant cooler jug meant to hold iced tea or some other non-liver-destroying beverage. Making Black Orchid Martinis may be her only redeeming grace.)

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