Posts Tagged ‘fun’
I heard about this great way to deal with having to make decisions that, for some reason, become impossible to resolve without fisticuffs.
B: “What would you like for dinner?”
E: “I don’t know, anything.”
<– cut –>
It’s 5-3-1 time! Person B has to make 5 suggestions, Person E gets to veto two of them, then Person B vetoes another two. The remaining option is the one you go with.
</– cut –>
B: “Nando’s, Subway, Maya Masala, Sumo-Salad, I.G.A.”
E: “Not I.G.A. and not Nando’s; we went there yesterday.”
B: “Okay. Not Subway. Not Sumo-Salad.”
E: “Maya Masala it is then!”
<– cut –>
It’s great because:
- We both get to veto two items.
- The person who didn’t want to decide, ends up saying the answer (which is like pseudo-deciding)
- The person asking the question has to come up with 5 options to start with (as opposed to none when asking the first question)
</– cut –>
We have successfully trialed this game and found it to be both easy to play and very effective.
Pulled from MetaFilter, but definitely worth expanding and posting again!
Elmo is Love
Grover is Bravery
Ernie and Bert are Friendship
Big Bird is Innocence
Oscar the Grouch is IndependenceKermit is Responsibilitiy
Miss Piggy is Determination
Gonzo is Joy
Fozzie is Fortitude
Scooter is Consistency
Rowlf is Wisdom
Statler and Waldorf are Nostalgia
Bunsen Honeydew is Experimentation
The Swedish Chef is Entropy
Sam the Eagle is Truth
Dr. Teeth is Jubilation
Animal is Tumultousand, of course,
The Count is Counting
Well! Date Night was a great success after a patchy launch.
Possibly I should have not invited other people along at the last minute, that’s true, but without their presence we would not have ended up watching “So, you think you can strip?” (The first amateur male stripping competition in Perth) at the end of the night.
Details huh?
Okay, here’s a quick synopsis of the night:
Ben and Emma race home from work early, but traffic is insane and it takes Emma 1.5 hours to make it back (three times the usual). Ben tells Emma that they will be joined at dinner by a work mate and her “man bag” friend, who is gay, but that’s okay. Emma is secretly upset by this but gets ready anyway. Ben thinks things are going great. It’s time to leave (+5 minutes) and Ben is made aware that Dates don’t involve other people, but he recovers gracefully and our intrepid couple makes it to the restaurant before the other pair.
Dinner goes swimmingly, largely helped along by two bottles of very nice wine and a single glass of real, actually french, champagne. The food was fantastic as well, but they run out of time to try dessert. Dessert is reprised at another establishment, to great applause and general frivolity, until finally the group moves on to the nightclub. Almost. There is a quick dash back home to get a passport because a wallet was left at work, during which the young married couple discusses marriage and how much fun it is to be leaving early while the single folk stay on at the (probably) raging club.
They make it back in time to catch the judging of the first round of stripper hopefuls, drinks are appropriated and the show continues. There are terrible, terrible strip shows and some good ones, but generally it was great fun. Especially the part where one of the contestants, desperate for applause and probably drunk on all the screaming females, “accidentally” get’s his junk out and prances about the stage like he’s hung like a horse. He is not. No matter though, the crowd goes nuts anyway, possibly to make up for his.
The professional strippers who are promoting the show put on one of their own on. They are, of course, significantly better than any of the contestants. Judges announce the winner and our married couple, having had a nice dinner; fun conversations; and oddball (literally) entertainment, call it a night.
Perhaps we aren’t so “old” after all.
So tonight I was sitting on the computer pretending to get some work done, when the reality was I was surfing YouTube and going through random photo albums on Facebook, when I decided that I was hungry. I couldn’t be bothered changing out of my pyjamas so I decided that I would take the risk and go to Chicken Treat in them anyway. I mean really, no one I know lives near us so the chances of running into someone I know were slim to none. Turns out those chances were more in my favour than I had imagined.
I strolled into Chicken Treat, to complement the outfit I decided to go sans shoes, and before you ask why I didn’t just go through drive-through, well I managed to break my electric windows in my car to the point that they now no longer wind down. Anyway, behind me I heard the door slam which made both myself and the guy in front of me in line spin around in astonishment and wouldn’t you know it, that guy knew who I was.
I haven’t seen this guy since highschool. He wasn’t even in my year but the year above. I still can’t figure out his name while it took him ten seconds to remember mine.
Did he just have a better memory than me?
Have I not changed since highschool and he had? He was at least 20kg heavier than when I last saw him.
Maybe I was just a little weird in highschool and have managed to etch myself onto other students memories?
Whatever it was it 
was weird. What made it even weirder was that all day I had been trying to figure out why I had won the role of Hodel in “Fiddler on the Roof”. I had received a phone call earlier in the day informing me of the decision and had been pondering all day why they had chosen me. After all Hodel is supposed to be seventeen and I was sure I was too old for the part. Maybe the fact that this boy who knew me when I was seventeen could still recognise me while I had no idea who he was, was a signal that maybe I don’t look at myself in the same light as others.
I put myself down a lot and don’t expect much. I look for reasons why I can’t do things rather than why I can.
On Friday I was working at the school’s athletics carnival doing time-keeping. What surprised me while doing this rather bland job was the fact that out of all the students at this highschool, the sixteen year old version of me could have outrun all but one student in the 400m, yet when I was sixteen I thought I was fairly average at athletics.
It has been a slow realisation this week that maybe I am actually a lot better at things than I give myself credit for. I’m not going to suddenly change and start swaning around voicing the wonders of my endless talents but I am going to give myself a little more credit for the talents that I do have. After all, it is too late for sixteen year old Emma to realise she is a good runner and give it more, but it is not too late for twenty-six year old Emma to start training for the goals she has now.
Image of ME running in the Staff relay team at the Athletics Carnival! Go Rice House!!!
This honeymoon of ours has been quite an adventure. For Emma, returning to Singapore was more than a little emotionally loaded and for me, well I tend to get caught up in the “is this really worth that?” comparisons.
On the last night of our holiday, we found something so dreadful, so over priced and that it’s turned full circle into hilarity. Hotel 81 Rochor in Singapore is, without a doubt, the worst place we have stayed ever. Why, you ask?
The tiny room contains:
- a leather bound matress with latex sheets that don’t actually cover the matress if you tuck them in (we had to make the bed ourselves)
- The toilet has a shower over it – so to have a shower, you actually have to dodge the toilet bowl.
- The (two) windows are cut in half by the walls of the room and have been filled in with green glass, we can’t figure out how to open them – the view is probably spectacular.
- The pillows are covered with transparent disposable pillow covers – like interfacing fabric.
- And the entire floor seems to be washable tiles with a grip pattern.
It’s so bad it’s good; you know? We have survived the night in a hostile environment and it’s brought us closer together. Our desire to have a good time has won the day.
I think this is a really good result for our relationship!
