New Orleans is hot, y’all. I thought Iowa was sticky in the summer – I had no idea how much like swimming it would feel with a humidity of 94%.
We drove all night to get here yesterday. I’ve never done that, and it was kind of Hunter S. Thompson-esqe (without the hallucinogenics). I swear Viva Las Vegas was playing the entire time I was dancing with the semis at 2 a.m.
I guess when you go on vacation with your webserver administrator, and shit breaks, you’re kind of stuck until he has time to fix it.
Yo! We’re in Philadelphia! Thus far, we’ve had no major or minor mishaps. We safely navigated our way from NYC to Philly. We’ve not gotten major-lost (only one wrong turn) and now we’re ready to rocket off to DC.
In New York, we stayed with the lovely Chris K, who lives not two blocks from Allison Darling Lyman. So I got to see her. In fact, I got to accompany her to a job interview, which she totally got.
At a bar, I played Sopranos pinball, and it was excellent. Win has shaved off the crazy date-rape ‘stash he had been sporting for the Grinnell reunion. I was relieved.
So, now we’ve seen Philly, thanks to Meg and Hannah. We got too drunk, we slept on various states of floor, we walked around, we ate gelato, we sat in the park, we went to Whole Foods and then made the most delicious sit-around-an-outside-table ever.
No word from Angela, so I will just assume that my cat is both alive and well.
Today, we’re off to D.C. My plan is to track down my cousin Kathleen and her amazing, fun family. I’m not going to lie. I cannot wait to see the unsinkable Molly Vu. I miss having cool kids around.
I have to go pack up the car now. Bye.
I blew a tire on Friday.
That was the only negative thing to happen between then and now. I’m tanned (except my poor blonde scalp, which is burnt) and relaxed and happy. Three days of chilling on the beach with friends is enough to recharge anybody, but I’m off for another week and a half of vacation.
I haven’t heard from Angela about the cat, but I’ve promised her dinner at PF Changs AND ice cream if the cat kicks it.
I woke up this morning with a very distinct feeling.
I’m sure you remember the one. It’s the very specific feeling of waking up on Christmas day, Easter day, or the last day of school, The night before, you are practically vibrating with excitement, because you know when you wake up, the awesome day will be there. When you wake up, you jump out of bed, usually insanely early, to begin the exciting day.
That’s how I woke up this morning. I’m going on vacation, and I’m so excited about it I felt like it was Christmas.
Antoine de Saint Exupéry wrote, in the intro to The Little Prince “All grown-ups were once children–although few of them remember it.”
So, yeah. I’m excited, and I can’t wait for the day to be over.
Oh, and if I don’t post for a while, it’s because I’m travelling around the country, eating beef jerky and zen GORP, and having my picture taken standing next to things.
Well, there it is. The open letter didn’t work. The previous owner of my cat, the one who said that if I ever didn’t want it I should call her and she’d take the cat back, has told me that her husband won’t let her take the cat back.
So, anyone want a cat?
Upsides:
She’s declawed
She’s cuddly
She’s not a kitten
She’s aesthetically pleasing
Downsides:
She’s not a kitten
She’s overly furry
She meows at night unless you have a rolled up sock available for her to carry around like it’s a kitten.
Help!
My hair feels longer today. Like I have long hair.
Last night, Kat came over and we tried round two of homemade silkscreened shirts. After a little hemming and hawing about what to make, I suggested using a picture of a friend jumping up in the air. I Photoshopped the image into a shadow (by increasing contrast) and we were off!
I am working on a design for a friend, but I decided to try the stencil out on a hoodie meant for me, to make sure it worked well. (You can read that as “It looked so cool, I wanted it for myself.”)
After meticulous outlining with Modge Podge, there was a brief lull while the goo dried.
If you don’t know what the significance of the particular domino I chose is, you’re simply not cool.
We decided to mix the acrylic paint with more water this time, thinking that a thinner paint would spread easier, and not get caught in the screen as much.
Tada! I got some paint on my hand, and my hand brushed the hoodie, so that’s why there’s a dark splotch in the upper left corner of the pocket.
Aaaaaand we’re done.
Last night I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. I think it was because I finished Social Blunders, and then had a really good phone conversation directly before going to sleep.
There is so much information packed into the dream, I hardly remember it. I laid in bed this morning trying to remember as much as I could, because once you move, you lose 55%. It’s a fact.
In the big ending scene, my fourth sibling has died. Everyone, a personal cast of hundreds, show up for the funeral/party, held in a city park. Alena and I decided the way our brother would want to be buried was wrapped entirely in a giant flour tortilla. There was a picnic table with him resting on it, and a tray of garnishes and food balanced on his torso. The tortilla was wrapped tight enough that you could make out his head from the rest of his mummified self.
Next in the dream was a parade of friends. A lot of people came dressed festively, as Lena and I had put “party” as the main purpose of the funeral. Both she and I felt halfhearted about this, as we had a recently deceased loved one. More and more friends were drifting into the park, and the general crowd noise level increased.
Jen and Dan came directly from their wedding. She was weepy happy, he was grinning with his whole face (like Dan does), and they were wearing their wedding clothes. They waved, and I realized that they had done this to poignantly state that good things happen in life too.
Anton came, with a full beard, and locked eyes with me as he took one of four unwrapped slices of American cheese off the tray on our fourth sib. He very deliberately folded the cheese and chewed it like it was a communion wafer. I thought this was odd, but didn’t say anything, because Anton is known for his silent, purposeful actions that you either get, figure out later, or never get (and it bugs you because it must have been significant and you feel really obtuse).
I greet more guests, and make my way over to the table with the body. Lena is there, and we look at the tortilla covering the face of our other brother. The tortilla is opaque enough that we can’t see his face, but it’s softening in the sun, and we can make out a nose, where eyes would be, and a slightly opened mouth. I can tell we’re both having the same impulsive thought: maybe I should rip the tortilla open so he can breathe.
We both look up, and realize simultaneously that it would undoubtedly be unpleasant to do that. Alena’s eyes search for something else to look at, and she darts her hand out for a piece of American cheese. The cheese has warmed in the sun, and is floppy. She starts tearing strips and eating them. I start to feel like something significant was about to happen, but I didn’t quite have the foresight to realize what it was. I decided I wanted a piece of cheese too. I took it off the tray, and Lena and I both realized that there was once piece left.
“We have to feed it to him!” said Alena.
I thought she was going to rip the tortilla and stuff cheese down our poor dead brother’s gullet. I started to stop her, but what she did was rip up the cheese into several pieces, and layer them over where the mouth should be. Suddenly I felt the wave of rightness, that somehow the four pieces of American cheese, which the four of us ate, identified us as siblings, something you could never change or take back. Even though he was dead, he was still our brother.
And then, I woke up. I was happy.
(To those of you who don’t know me well, or maybe just don’t know my family, I have two other siblings. I have no idea who the dead guy is supposed to be.)
Good god fo’ sheezy. I jizzust spent tha last hour find’n Las Vegas-themed songs fo` a bridal showa we’re chillin’ at work. Let me T-to-tha-izzell you, Tom Jones’ version of Blizzay B-E-Double-Tizzy is awful. He enunciates too mizzay.
Izzle
[This is what happens if you use Gizoogle.]
Good god. I just spent the last hour finding Las Vegas-themed songs for a bridal shower we’re having at work. Let me tell you, Tom Jones’ version of Black Betty is awful. He enunciates too much.