This is the way the world ends…
… not with a bang, but a whimper.
Much fun was had this weekend. Much much fun. And some depressing things, but mostly fun.
1. Flight on Thursday. Delayed. By an hour. ARGH. And I’d come straight from choir, so I got funny looks from my seatmates for acting funny. Not humming or singing, just getting this random odd look on my face at times, whenever I got a whiff of bass rumbly wonderfulness wafting through my head. My fault for singing alto, I guess… next to the *drool* bass section. So I have a thing for deep voices. . At least I wasn’t the one listening to rap at sub-audible levels so that my whole group of fellow planemates are ready to kill me for blasting their eardrums WITH HEADPHONES! Sorry, mild plane rage there. Fwah.
2. Roadtrip home. Food somewhere near Magic Mountain, with brushfire smoke seasoning our every bite. Yum. Mild drizzling. Sleep at my dad’s. Yay sleep!
3. Halloween. Spent the majority of the sunlight/visible rain hours constructing The Wizard’s Cloak from denim. The brown monk’s robe bleached day-glo yellow, and then disintegrated under more powerful substances. So we replaced it with denim. Not too bad, for a half-planned bit of shoddy work. From there we traipsed merrily to the Gov’t Center, whereupon we discovered that exactly two people were still living and breathing in the depths of my dad’s workplace. And the other warm bodies were rapidly backing away at the thought of him armed with a wizard’s staff and a trusty elfess (me). Pictures will be made available as soon as they are sent to (hint hint). Followed by sushi at Ozeki’s, mochas at Bernadette’s, and candy at Bunce’s. Where the feline population has endured another increase… Miles, Madison, Phoebe, Marilyn/Renee, The Troll, and Silver now welcome… Elton, the artist formerly known as Baby. He is a dead ringer for the Fancy Feast cat. Caught up on VPS news, apparently it’s showing further signs of eternal damnation. Woohoo! I breathlessly anticipate the day when I can light a match on The Evil One’s pyre. All in all, a fun and soaked night. Sleep at home. Also known as Mom’s house.
4. Saturday Afternoon. Working in the yard at home. It’s still Home to me. I’ve never slept as soundly as I do there. The three black and white bucks (stories unto themselves) now have a fully functional play yard. Or will as soon as Chiaro fills out a bit. Skinny little supermodel Himalayan cuddle-bunny. Scuro the broken Mini Lop has scars, lovely lumpy but well-healed ones on his ears. But allows us to pet him without too much of a fuss. I’ll trim his nails over Turkey Day, we’ll see how much he likes me then. *grin* And Bucky… is, well, Bucky. The Brick. Buckminsterfullerene, potential football player. Heavyset little Dutch. Funny, Mom now has three black-and-white male rabbits, each a different breed and a different pattern. Classic. Wiggy got a bath, hopefully his skin will settle down now that it’s winter. Anya. Well, always a flirt.
5. Dinner at Grammy’s. Incredibly depressing, but good to see family. I wonder how things will go over the next few months… everything seems to be changing. Endless family crises, most of which I won’t relate here. If you’re reeeally that interested, go to the source. As in, not me. Being interested, you’re probably already family. Go ask ’em. But yes, suffice it to say that family gatherings will certainly have a changed demeanor with everyone shuffling around and shuffling off and shuffling cards for Trivial Pursuit (a game that I fully intend to revive… it’s tradition after all, and I’m finally old enough to know some of the answers).
6. Further family gatherings, this time of the 4-H Extended Family. I swear, no reunion is complete without seeing at least a few 4-H buddies. VMA’s – Valuable Member Awards – *cough* of no relation to the MTV variety. Requiring, however, the donning of a slinky black and silver dress in order to blend in with the other starlets. And the pulling of an impromptu speech regarding youth leadership out of thin air. Argh. But good to see people. 🙂
7. Emily!!! Oh my. We had fun. Lots and lots of crazy skittish high-blown fun. Eeeeeee! Got there about 11ish on Saturday evening and… well… dressed up in our Halloween costumes and wandered through the whole little neighborhood, scaring the guys and getting our palms read by questionable psychics who tried to sell us aura cleansings. After telling us that we were penniless and stubborn and had dark-haired jealous women lighting black candles against us. Silly psychics, tricks are for the fakes. Um, tried to watch Amelie but her sound system was hiccuping, and I fell asleep after the first 30 minutes. Apparently I look really cute when I sleep. *narrowing eyes at Emily* No hot lesbian orgies, sorry, guys. No toenail painting, no dancing around in our sexiest lingerie. I’m still waiting for that special someone… as far as I know, it’s a some-him. Sorry, girls. *grin* But Emily and I together seem to attract guys in droves. Strange guys. Guys in self-help programs and support groups, homeless guys, drunk guys. I guess they just can’t resist our Goddess-ness. 😀 We went to Santa Monica on Sunday (yesterday, already) Frederick and his buddy who wanted to hang out with us that evening, and gave us their phone numbers. I guess they’re in some sort of program. *shrug* They were nice, but no thanks. The homeless man who wanted us to relay his feelings to the store on the corner (“suck my *parental-protection edit*”) leaving us to giggle as we ran frightenedly away. The Bubble Man on the Santa Monica Pier! Much fun chasing bubbles while Emily snapped pictures. Pictures of the wrought-iron Pushme-Pullyou llama and the chain tree, and me rolling down hills. 🙂 As we wandered from the Pier toward Finn McCool’s (Fionn MacComhaill’s for you valleygirls) we had lots of fun. Emily now owns a drop-dead-gorgeous red velvet skirt and matching necklace. It might be a teensy bit tight but at least she can wear it. I live vicariously through her, at least as far as fashion. From there, we met JR and Elena, got coffees, and watched motorized children romping on our hilltop seat, next to a comatose fellow who didn’t move the entire time. Juxtaposition and chiaroscuro. The world astounds me sometimes.
8. Fionn MacComhaill’s. Too many people, but good music. Much fun with friends, and my dad was amazingly restrained. Only a little mischief. I genuinely like hanging out with JR, Emily, Elena… I don’t know why but somehow I can’t relax around most of my friends. I can only let my guard down around a few. I’m glad when the circle of good friends grows, especially when new friends can likewise relax. I know I’m an introvert. But at least I’m functional around people. *shrug* I’m drawn to people with whom I can speak easily, switching from puns on wry humor, to politics, to deep philosophy, to fears to dreams to craziness… and I can count those friends on less than a hand’s worth of fingers. I don’t let my guard down very easily, unless it’s either impersonal (i.e. this typed medium) or intensely private (long conversations with a friend). I prefer deep connections to distant friends over shallow local passing fun. I don’t function well in groups, I guess.
Um… yes. Much fun. And as soon as Emily’s camera is restored to her, she WILL send me pictures. All pictures. After all, it’s more fun when someone else knows you did it. And isn’t afraid to tease you about it months later. Parties are more fun with cameras.
And the latest addition to the wish list… a replacement copy of the Norton Anthology of English Literature. Lost partway through my senior year, never replaced, but I do miss it. Hell, any collection of poetry or prose. I need to
get back into touch with my inner writer. An email included a quote today from the ephemeral Edna St. Vincent Millay. I miss the feeling of breathless creativity, that feeling of “do this, make this, create this, or perish” …
My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends –
It gives a lovely light!
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