Martians! At Grovers Mill!!!!

"A humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's that? There's a jet of flame springing from the mirror, and it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes them head on! Good Lord, they're turning into flame!"

- Eyewitness at Grovers Mill, NJ, October 30, 1938

It turns out that lots of things went down in 1938; for instance, a martian landing in the very nice town of Princeton, New Jersey! We went to Princeton because it's in between JFK Airport (where Warren patiently waited curbside for well over an hour while I was stuck in traffic) and Philadelphia (where my sister lives), but more specifically because it contains a park that contains a monument of the 1938 Martian Landing Site. I mean, with a claim like that, who wouldn't want to see it with their own two eyes (strictly a rhetorical question)?

It was pouring. I mean, like, there was so much water that we waded knee-deep through this windy faux forest that led to a lake that was also flooding and a tiny covered pavilion where a kid's failed birthday party(complete with a disgruntled looking clown making balloon animals for forlorn kids)was underway and, and here is the good part, this:


It's a small monument, entirely shielded from human eyes on one side by a series of large bushes. But its glory couldn't be hidden from our eagle eyes. "This looks about right," Warren said as we waded deeper into the swamp (aka, former grassy knoll). And it was.

It was ("it" now being the martian landing) also one of the best hoaxes ever played by the mass media on its mass audience. Here's what Roadside America has to say about the whole hubbub: "In 1938, scorching annihilation from outer space was still a relatively new concept to the average Joe. Orson Welles and his Mercury Theater ensemble put on one of the world's great hoaxes when they broadcast a radio adaptation of H. G. Wells' War of the Worlds the night before Halloween, October 30th. Twelve million people heard the fake 'live news' broadcast, and many were convinced an attack from Mars was underway. The Martian landings were centered around the little-known but real town of Grovers Mill, near Princeton."

And that, my friends, is why I <3 america.="" br="">
This one goes out to you, the heroes, a song I could not stop humming the whole adventure:

"Nothing Ever Happens On Mars" from Waiting for Guffman

best cure for panic attacks = jousting

Seriously. This is what happened: Prince William turned 27, spring officially turned into summer, and I turned 25. I can say this with zen-like calm now, but Friday it was another story. Friday I was like, "25 is so OLD!" And, "But I...don't...wanna...be 25!!!" [said in the escalating, whiny manner of a two-year-old preparing for a tantrum. You are familiar, I am sure]. There was stomping and pouting and, yes, actual tears at one point. So I helped tear down and build a fence. Because that tends to help. But what really saved me was the next day, when Warren picked me up and took me to a magical place known only to a few lucky elite...

Yes, my friends, I am talking about Medieval Times--the "restaurant" staged around a great sand pit where wiry teens with poor facial hair don glittery leggings (aka, "chain mail") and shiny body armor and pretend to run lances/axes/swords/clubbed-balls-attached-to-chains into each other for the peace of their kingdom. A sand pit around which--according to the website--"privileged royal guests are transported to faraway lands including a romantic snowy rendezvous in the woods and an authentic medieval tournament -- with the help of Hollywood-caliber special effects, of course." Of course!

There is no better cure for a birthday-induced panic attack than watching this:

Whilst eating this:

And hoping against hope that this man:

will press one of his carnations to his lips and toss it in your general direction (this is not even remotely made up. After each game, the winning knights ride around the sand pit with a rose clamped between their teeth throwing flowers they've graced with a kiss to the screaming audience. If that's not drama, I don't know what is.)

Our knight, the yellow knight was "well-versed in the arts of chivalry, yet in attack, he was the lion uncaged!" We totally "Let the ring of steel herald his arrival and the smoke of battle linger in his wake" because "a legend of the Realm walked among us." This was actual dialogue, which is making you dizzy and a little bit swoony right now, I can tell.

It was, in the only word I know to properly express my feelings, awesome.

[Warren should get major points for not only taking me to a place where I could eat an entire roast chicken with my bare fingers (so romantic), but also for taking me to Dangerously Delicious Pies in Baltimore (so dangerous, so delicious)), chopping up strawberries and peaches at 3 in the morning to top the divine homemade blueberry pancakes he made me for breakfast in bed, pretending that my panic attack was endearing, taking me on a long calming walk that included an invigorating tree climb, washing all varieties of dishes, saying and doing every wonderful thing, and basically making me feel like the world's most loved person on my traumatic 25th. I know, you totally want to shake his hand now.]

Finally, if you were wondering whether or not Warren and I were the oldest people there, you would be right to. We were not. Birthday shout outs went to a few 41, 54, and 85-year olds. Miracles never cease.

My cousin, My hero

My cousin helped organize a grassroots protest against the ridiculous LAUSD school board who has pink slipped 70% of her school's teachers.

She says, "Teaching is a lifestyle, it's not a job. I'm here for the kids." You really don't need proof to believe that, but read this blog post and this one (about field trips), and if that's a teacher who should be pink slipped...we have serious, serious issues.

i love choreography

not gonna lie, definitely watched this one five times in a row. i'm particularly fond of the snap at 1:35. thank you luke for sharing this gem!