humor

Phoebe, Bomm-Bomm & the Gang do Sports Ball

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted. And while most of you might think it’s because I’ve found my Tindered Spirit, it’s actually because I found the show True Detective. I just couldn’t stop. Anyway, I’m finished with that for the time being, so I’ll give you a little update about the first half of my weekend.

Let’s start on Friday. Friday night, I heavily lobbied for going to Nacho Borracho to start the night off. Which, as always, was a really solid move. And I ordered an Avocado Marg & Totachos, because, so good. And then we headed to the Unicorn. Which is a super Cap Hill bar. And Bomm-Bomm, Alex and I took SO MANY PRETTY PICTURES. Just look:

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Not too shabby. From left to right: Phoebe, Alex and Bomm-Bomm

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And then I got pretty into modeling, and went for the effortlessly beautiful, ‘blurred hand behind the head’ pose

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And then I tried the awkward lean pose (instant classic)

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Which, naturally, turned into this.

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And then I regained my composure and decided to ruin yet another picture with only one half of my face

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And then that damn flash brought out my Blue Steel (And Alex’s)

And that’s all she wrote. About the Unicorn, at least.

But obviously, based on my title, most of you are probably tuning in to hear about Bomm-Bomm and Phoebe’s big day out to watch sports ball. And on Saturday’s sports ball agenda was the Mariners. And Bomm-Bomm and I were about this excited about watching the Mariner’s game:

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We just couldn’t.

So we made our way over to Safeco Field for the big day. BUT. (and this is important) On Bomm-Bomm’s and my way over to the field we ran into a tour bus in front of a club in Capitol Hill called Neumos.  Said tour bus was swarming with teenage clones. And I didn’t get a picture because I was so overwhelmed and a little scared, but I’m serious about the clone thing. There were like 50 high school girls who looked like they robbed the same exact Urban Outfitter’s mannequin standing outside of a tour bus. And the tour bus read, “Kalin and Myles.” So of course, because Bomm Bomm and I are trying to stay hip and with the times, we looked them up, only to find this beaut.

So here are four things I just want to focus on with regard to this whole Kalin and Myles business. 1.) How, and I quote from about every other word in the song, “turnt” they are. 2.) Myles is spending almost the entire music video getting a Macklemore haircut. 3.) Their tour is called the, “Chasing Dreams Tour” and 4.) 1:01 in the video.

LOL. Let’s move on.

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We got a little distracted on the way and stopped into Elysian Brewery on the way to the game. And sat in this little nook, that looked very VIP to a pretty poor human, like me. And by VIP, I mean there were fish tanks. The whole encounter felt very rags to fishes. Bad joke. Moving on again.IMG_4950 IMG_4949

And then we walked to the game.

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And Bomm-Bomm and I found our seats. And we were SO ready to watch some sports ball.

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So after being avid Mariner’s fans, we decided to meet back up with the gang at the beer garden at the bottom of the sixth.

And if you think, for even just a minute, that Phoebe’s gang isn’t as cool as Kalin and Myles, you are wrong okay. You’re just wrong. Look below for how simultaneously hip and gangster they can be. (Note: the du-rags may or may not be the free Mariners towels provided to us at the door. And it’s still very Wutang of them to wear #blessed #turnt #KalinandMyles)

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And, no, we might not attract teenage clones as fans. But we do attract really nice ladies like this:

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oh snap, here comes a fan

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So take that Kalin and Myles. Anyway. I don’t know why I got so fixated on that. What happened next is Ross bought cotton candy and turned everyone’s teeth blue. The effect was something like this:

Well, maybe it was more like this:

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sharing

sharing

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And I’m really trying to think of a way to make this whole post come together and have some deeper meaning about post millenial rap stars, friends, beer, baseball and cotton candy. BUT writers block. So instead, I will leave you with the next best thing. Which is, of course, a Sportsball information station on a Segway.

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#prayerhands #blessed

And I actually changed my mind and decided to end this post with a flashback video of my own dear family on segways from June of 2013.

You are all very welcome.

God Bless,

Phoebe

Phoebe Tries to Find her Tindered Spirit

Sometimes I like to play tinder. Which, I recognize as I write this post is probably something that should not be admitted on the world wide web. And is probably even furthering my forever singlehood. But, I feel like, based on the number of mirror sefies I have swiped through since downloading this oddly addicting app, there are enough humans out there who also occasionally play tinder that perhaps we can all take a moment here and reflect on this cyber match-maker that uses the only criteria people ever really needed to find their soul-mates, a Facebook profile picture. And it’s a pretty serious app, because after you establish that you are both on the same caliber of physical attractiveness, you can delve into the more important things, like religion, politics, what have you:

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Anyway, a little history. I downloaded Tinder on a sunny day in Seattle back in June, when I had no friends and too much time on my hands, and I figured, “Hey, today seems like a perfect day to meet my soulmate.” And I touch screened my way to the app store and hit download. Since that time, however, I have not found my soulmate and, rather, I have lost about 99% of faith in humanity because, I did not realize how many people do not know the proper use of homonyms (They’re/their/there GUYS COME ON), and I also did not realize the astounding number of people who write, “people” as “ppl.” Seriously Generation Y, I thought we cut that shit out around the same time that we stopped using AIM. I digress.

Anyway, I’ve actually only gone on a whopping one, “Tinder date,” if you will, and I would give it about a 7/10. And the main reason I deducted points lies in the giant problem of putting all of our soul-mate stake on a profile picture. And that problem is height. And well, the guy I went on a Tinder date with was, I’d say 4’11”-maybe 5’1 on a good day. And he just couldn’t be nicer, it was a great time, except, there I was at a whopping 5’8″ feeling like I had scoliosis by about hour 2 because I was so focused on hunching over at the bar so that we could speak within 2 inches of each other. But the worst part was the goodbye. I mean, goodbyes after any date are pretty awkward I would say, but this goodbye really took the cake.  And it went something like this. We finished our drinks and the check was paid, and it was generally assumed that our date was reaching its end. So we stood up from our barstools, (and my back sighed a few cracks of relief that I was done pretending to be Quasimodo), and I was back to feeling like an Amazonian next to my Tinder nugget. That’s when I realized I had about 20 seconds to figure out how to execute this goodbye. My first instinct: a hug. It’s a classic, warm, but platonic, way to go about saying goodbye. Except then I realized that in order to go with the embrace and race exit strategy I would either have to get into full squat or full hunch position. Both seemed super awkward. 15 seconds. Next idea: a handshake. No. No. We did not just sign a business deal together, the hand shake was out of question. 10 seconds. A friendly wave? No. Lord, no. So in my remaining 5 seconds, I panicked. I half went in for the hug, but I didn’t fully commit, and it ended up looking more like a painfully awkward curtsey. And then, I did it. And I just pray that there were minimal eye witnesses, because I just can’t handle walking the streets of Capitol Hill knowing that people out there might remember this moment. I pat his back. And I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. I curtseyed and pat him on the back. I honestly don’t know what came over me.

Let’s move on. Anyway, after that horribly failed date, I’ve resorted to mostly just using Tinder, the way I use, say Instagram. As an occasional time-killer on public transit or on a lunch break.

And because I am a natural conversationalist, I usually start off strong- with something like this

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So for those of you who couldn’t follow the intellectual depth of the above conversation, I will translate it in layman’s terms :

Me: “Hi, I’m Phoebe. I love pizza. And so many slices of it.”

Tinder: “Hi, Phoebe. Want to go for a ride on my canoe? Who am I kidding, of course you do!”

Tinder: “Sorry, did I say my canoe? I meant my super fast speed boat!”

Me: “Sounds neat, do your Grandma and Grandpa live nearby and enjoy fishing?”

And I would say generally, I don’t even reach the message phase of most of my right swipes, because, mostly, I’m vain and I love just the actual game part of tinder. The game part being how fast I can judge a person’s face. But, of course, I will occasionally sift through the message part. And some people, it’s just like, why? A few examples below.

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Why don’t you ask yourself that, and try again.

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Oh, I’m sorry, I must have missed that you were a leprechaun in your about me.

BUT THE ACTUAL WORST

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Hey there. You’re gross and I hate you.

So that always kind of just ruins it for everybody. But even worse than that, is when you occasionally take the 18 seconds it requires to respond to a Tinder human and they do this to you:

you are literally more vain than me, and that story wasn't funny.

You are literally more vain than me, and that story wasn’t funny.

But I would say a majority of my conversations go something like this:

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And I feel pretty good about that.

So, as I reach the end of this post, I guess the take away message is that it’s not always easy to find your tindered spirit. And there are a lot of things out there making it really hard, including but not limited to: mirror selfies, faceless pictures, bad grammar, and more generally, the internet. So I leave you with this, Generation Y. Don’t lose hope. You never know when you might swipe right on a catch like this.

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God speed with the swiping my friends.

-Phoebe

A Thrown-back Thursday

It started raining today in Seattle. A statement to which, I would assume, the general public would respond, “Thank you Captain Obvious.” Except, it really hasn’t been raining since I moved to Seattle, and I guess the way weather patterns work around here, it really doesn’t start raining until summer is over. And that’s when I got all nostalgic and sad and realized that somehow summer is over. And if I wasn’t an old maiden these days, I would be back at college, dancing on tables and drinking the glorified hooch that the kids these days call, “Jungle Juice.” It would look something like this:

pregame paige

Phoebe cerca 2010

But, somehow, 2010 turned into 2014, and June turned into September, and in a passage of time that feels as quick as my first college game of flip cup, I find myself on a completely new adventure, living in Seattle (in the fall). And I think when it started raining today, there was a feeling that stuck in the air, about as much as the frizz from my bad hair day did, that this isn’t just another study abroad trip or summer job. This is my new home. And that is awesome, bittersweet, weird and exciting all at the same time. So if you all haven’t jumped in front of buses at what a total Nostalgic Nancy I’ve been so far, I promise this rainy day post is generally pretty sunny.

And where I want to direct this post to now, is my best memories of summer, beginning with the end of my time in Michigan with my best friends in the widest of worlds, to my new home, here in Seattle. And as much as I am ashamed that I am joining the horrendously overdone bandwagon of throwback Thursday, I think since Phoebegoeswest.com has not been around as long as Phoebe has been west, it seems like the right thing to do.

So starting from the end of my collegiate career, here is good ole memory número uno:

1.) Graduation Time 

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From left to right: Lady Bligh (Abby), Phoebe (Paige), Jersey (Cassey), Lamey (Amy), and Frankie (Jannelle)                     Photo Cred: Our Dear Friend Shmelsea

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Photo Cred: Our Dear Friend Shmelsea

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Photo Cred: Our Dear Friend Shmelsea

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Photo Cred: Our Dear Friend Shmelsea

So I’m all waterworks over here looking at these pics again. I was super lucky to get to spend my last year of lollege living with my best friends and partners in crime. I cannot freaking wait until we can once more reunite and submerge underground into the sweaty dungeon that is Rick’s American Cafe and hit the dance stage. But because I’m on a sappy role, I would like to elaborate on how great my pals are.

Lady Bligh/ Abu Congdon and I met in Organic Chemistry lab sophomore year, and it was one of the most goddamn lucky things that ever happened to me. Somehow, even though we arguably might have been underprepared for approximately every lab, we managed to be like the only 2 students in the class who's experiments  ever actually worked,  (we are still uncertain as to why), and when that happened we would spend the rest of class eating food at the bake sales that were always happening in the Chemistry Building. And it only got better from there.

Lady Bligh/ Abu Congdon and I met in Organic Chemistry lab sophomore year, and it was one of the most splendid, game-changing things that has ever happened to me. Somehow, even though we arguably might have been underprepared for approximately every lab, we managed to be like the only 2 students in the whole class whose experiments ever actually worked,(we are still uncertain as to why). And when that happened we would spend the rest of class eating food at the bake sales that were always happening in the Chemistry Building. And our best friendship only got better from there.

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The Molinas (Frankie/Jannelle in the middle, Shmesshica/Jessica on the right). I don’t even know where to begin with these two. Let’s see. I first met Jessica Freshman year of college, and quickly fell in love. And apparently it was mutual, because a few weeks later she abducted me while I was studying with my calculus group. And I give her mad props for being my friend, because I was still at a point in my life where I thought that this would be a perfect outfit for a night on the town (See photo below)

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Really cool T-shirt/sweater vest combo, I know. Anyway, now that I’m sufficiently embarrassed, I would like to continue on bragging about how good my friends are. And the next friend I would like to introduce is my dear, dear partner in crime Frankie, to whom I owe my own nickname, Phoebe. And I think eventually I will need to do a full write up on that lil shit I call my best frand because it will make my blog name and a lot of things make more sense. I think. So anyway, this is Frankie on graduation.

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Next in line is Lamey. And Lamey will always hold such a special place in my ole corazon because she was really there for me when shit got real my freshman year of college. She was also my first friend that I met in college- in Wei Zhang’s Calculus/Mandarin 1 course, and she has always been a person that I can tell literally anything to. And bless her soul because she has probably had SO MANY seriously TMI Phoebe moments, but she never judges me and I always feel like I picked a real warm fuzzy after our chats.

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Don’t mind my hair

So I could expand on my friends so much more, but I have to focus on the meat and potatoes of this post which is where I show you my favorite memories of summer. So now that I have moved past my time in Michigan, here begins my memories since embarking west.

2. The car ride west with Kev

Kev-man, aka my dad, is the coolest. Like he’s really the coolest. He’s pretty damn goony at times, but I consider him my best friend, and we share the same taste in music (and his musical knowledge is off the chain) and humor and so much more, and I am really so lucky to call him dad. –I’d like to pause and say wowie wowie I don’t know why I have so many feels going on today, but just go with my sappiness– So anyway, when I found out that I was going to be going on a 39 hour car ride, and he was going to be my companion, I was pretty stoked. There are few people in this world who can actually get me geeked about going to the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota, and, well, Kev is one of them. So here’s our roadtrip.

the beginning. drink that coffee, dad, it's going to be a long ride

the beginning. drink that coffee, dad, it’s going to be a long ride

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The Bad Lands

The Bad Lands

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Our last stop to Seattle

Our last stop to Seattle

So by the time we reached Seattle, our photo game was really on a roll. And we decided that obviously the next move would be to bring our tourist A-game to the new town.

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Welp, I put those on the world wide web forever. Who knows- Maybe Kev and I will be featured in the next awkward family photo book. Big break anyone?!

3. My Birthday

Of COURSE my birthday made the list of all things awesome. So for my birthday, I decided to be all PNW and buy myself some hiking boots. Let me revise that, my parents bought me some hiking boots- thanks padres. And I went for my first real hike out here, and it was a game changer.

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AND THEN. I got home and a man came to my door asking where Phoebe was. And I was so utterly confused, because I wasn’t aware that I had friends in Seattle yet, let alone ones that knew of Phoebe. But turns out he was a pizza man, bringing me a special pizza from Frankie and Jess!

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And I should also shout out to my roommates and their friends who threw me a mojito party. And to Linda, who gave me a giant chocolate cake, which I made my 3 square meals for the next week. #fitness

4. Cribbage with Jeremy

One of the first people I met when I moved to Seattle is Jeremy, who is a barista at Victrola coffee on my street

Victrola

Victrola

And Jeremy is one of the most interesting people to talk to. He is super smart, and knows a shit ton about symbols and philosophy, and he is also a very talented musician. So one day, shortly after I moved here, he invited me to play cribbage at Volunteer Park, which is just down the road. And I was totally stoked because 1.) I made a friend, and 2.) I hadn’t played croquet since I was a kid and I was pumped. –Did you catch that I said croquet just there? Yeah, totally different than cribbage. Which is a math based card game. So you can imagine my shock when I arrived at Volunteer Park ready to mallot away, only to learn that cribbage was in fact a card game. But eventually I got the hang of it, and it is so fun.

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5.  The day I went to the beach with Dallas

Madison Park Beach is the greatest people watching beach spot ever. It is full of children, families, and plenty of things children should never see. One day while at Madison Park Beach with friends, someone who will always hold a significant part in my first summer in Seattle, stumbled upon the blanket where we were sitting. And that person is Dallas. That night we ended up staying at Madison Park Beach until sunset, and everyone else played guitars and sang. And I sat and occasionally hummed, because that’s about all I can bring to the musical table these days. I should also note that Dallas is also an incredibly gifted musician, and has a way of bringing people together with his gift. Don’t believe me? Check it out here.  Anyway, about a month after that first meeting at Madison Park Beach, we went back with a couple of friends, and it was just one of those perfect summer days with nothing to do and nowhere to be, except exactly where we already were.

Photo credit goes to Dylan- I stole it from his insta

Photo credit goes to Dylan- I stole it from his insta

6. The day I met the owners at Flowers on 15th

Flowers on 15th is this adorable flower shop on my street that I had meant to pop inside from the day I set foot in Seattle, but I didn’t get around to actually going in until last month. And I’m SO glad I did.  Carolyn and Alex, who run the place, could not have been more genuine and kind people. I don’t even think I had realized how much I was starting to get a little homesick when I walked into the store, and they immediately made it feel like a home on my street.  Alex even gave me a pretty little plant that is still sitting in my windowsill. And as it turns out, Alex is from Grand Rapids, MI too, and we ended up having a wonderful chat. And I left all blubbery and happy that good people like them exist. Small world. Great people. Gorgeous flowers.

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7. The day my best friend ever came to visit: “YES, SHE DID”

I can’t even express how excited I was when my favorite little goober came to visit Seattle.  Where to begin with Maeve. Well, for starters, I usually call her Mushu, because she wouldn’t stop watching Mulan cerca 2000. And we also have a tendency to create some really funny to us, obnoxious to the general public, one-liner inside jokes that we are not afraid to use over and over and over. I guess this trip, the phrase that was running like a broken record was, “Yes, she does,” (said in our best Bob Dylan singing voice). And that started, because upon picking Maeve up from the airport, “Just Like a Woman,” by Bob came on- listen to the song if you aren’t following here- and I proceeded to ask Maeve if she was hungry and wanted to get food, to which she responded in a long Dylan drawl, “Yes I dooooo.”

So our conversations for the next three days went something like this:

“Mushu, do you want to wake up early tomorrow and go to the Market?”

“Yes she doeeessss”

or,

“Did you guys want to place that pizza order for delivery?”

“Yes we doooo”

You get the idea.

IMG_7900 IMG_4835             And while she was here we had a photoshoot

Phoebe photography

Phoebe photography

Phoebe photography

Phoebe photography

And she’s so pretty and just the best.

8. The first time I tried an Avocado Margarita. You heard right. 

So by this point in time, if you have even made it here, you are probably concerned about what a rainy day sap ball I’m being. Which is why I am going to clinch this memorabilia in true-to-Phoebe-form. And that is by concluding with the day I found Nacho Borracho. And you are probably also thinking, ‘wow Phoebe, that’s a rather fat ass way to end.’ And I completely agree, and would like to draw your attention to two very important things about Nacho Borracho. 1.) Avocado Margaritas 2.) Totachos. (That’s TATOR TOT NACHOS people. I repeat. TATOR TOT NACHOS)

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ON THE RIGHT

ON THE RIGHT

You are welcome for that. Visit me in Seattle and totachos on me.

Peace, Love, and Pizza/Totachos,

Phoebe