Boxing.
Christmas just doesn't feel to me like it ever ended this year. I'm still
listening to Christmas music today.
So apparently there was a great big huge windstorm today. I love windstorms. I'm a little sorry I slept through it.
Up late last night. Had a good time. retcon and treebyleaf and I realized that we were unsatisfied with the Christmas dinners we'd had -- mine was a turkey dinner with the family, despite the continued efforts my father and I have made to try to convince my mother that we actually don't like turkey, and theirs was a last-minute slap-dash assortment of foods they assembled on realizing that they hadn't made any plans for Christmas dinner, so it seemed important to us to have a nice dinner on Boxing Day.
We ended up going to the new Olive Garden at Northgate North with our friend lokheed (who, I must mention had some lovely things to say about us in his journal on Christmas). Took a while for us to get a waiter to come over, but after we pointed this out to them, we got great service for the rest of the meal, a personal apology from the manager, and free desserts. I almost felt a little bad we'd said anything in the first place, but it was really nice of them.
From one horrifying architectural monstrosity to the next, I headed out after dinner to the Experience Music Project to see a free concert -- local goth bands Abney Park, Doll Factory, and The Sins. Couldn't talk Riff or treebyleaf into coming along, as they both had to work in the morning and were both exhausted already anyway.
Concert was a lot of fun. Saw several seagoths, although not as many as I'd expected. I thought The Sins were, err, pretty awful, actually. They have an amazing electric violin player, but he wasn't enough to make up for the shouty screechy lead singer. (Any Sins fans out there: I'm sorry. No, I don't mean I'm sorry for offending you -- I mean, I'm actually sorry you're fans.) Doll Factory and Abney Park were both excellent, though. I'd heard some of their music before, but it was much better to hear it live -- so much energy.
So, okay. There was this girl.
I'd been sitting there feeling kind of -- well, melancholy, really. Don't get me wrong. I love treebyleaf dearly. But every now and then, when I'm out Having Fun, I become painfully aware that I'm not dating someone who enjoys Having Fun; that there isn't anyone in my life who I could take with me to something like this who would enjoy it.
So I'm watching this girl dance. Now, this is Seattle. People don't dance at concerts. They just don't. But she clearly didn't care. (And she'd clearly had a few drinks, which probably helped with the "not caring" part.) Her most endearing gesture, to my mind, was the hand that kept sliding up into her hair and holding it back out of her eyes in a ponytail. Pretty cute. Do you know the type of girl I'm talking about here? A party girl.
And at one point, as she slipped past me in the crowd, I was thinking to myself, That's as close as I'm ever likely to get to a girl like this.
I was pretty surprised, then, when she came over later, pointed to the seat next to mine, and asked if it was taken. Even more surprised when she actually started up a conversation with me. I was generally pretty amused and charmed by her and flattered by her attention.
Eventually, she looked around and realized that her friends were gone -- she'd been ditched there without any way of getting home. Great friends, huh?
Before I could change my mind, I said, "Don't worry. I'll take you home."
Now see, in my little word, this is Not Done. You don't allow strangers into your home or vehicle. But, hell, it was Christmas, still. And this was well within the spirit of standing on top of ladders. And I didn't figure it was too likely that she was a serial killer or con artist.
Of course, she had no real way of knowing that I wasn't a serial killer or con artist, so I was a little surprised at how readily she accepted, and grateful to whatever god or saint watches over fools, drunkards and children that she had ended up in my charge rather than fall into the hands of someone who would rob, murder, and sodomize her; probably in that order.
She bought herself another drink she clearly didn't need at last call, and was determined to sit and finish it even when the security guard was trying to throw us out as the bar was closing down around us. After I reassured the guard that we'd be gone in a minute, she turned to me and said something very interesting:
"You're used to doing what other people tell you to do, aren't you?"
I was a little stunned by this. I told her that no, it was just that I was used to being on the security guard's side of this interaction -- but it was still an interesting question, and one that's stuck with me that I'll have to think about.
So here's a little suggestion I have for you, if you're ever in a hurry: Don't give a ride home to someone who's been drinking, has recently moved, isn't real familiar with the area, and frankly, isn't really quite sure that she knows how to direct you to her place. It took us probably over two hours of driving around for me to piece together her rambling (does she live in Bellevue? Redmond? Somewhere between the two?) and actually find her place. I'm convinced we finally managed it more by accident than by anything else.
The weather was terrible, a precursor of this morning's storm. Heavy rain and slick roads. Things got a little skiddy a couple of times, but there was practically no one else on the road to worry about, so I wasn't bothered, and I don't think she even noticed.
I realized at the time that most other people would probably find the whole situation aggravating and intolerable, but it was just all so absurd I had to laugh at it. So was she. Giggly, talkative, and screwing up all the preset stations on my radio, she made fine company for getting completely lost. I didn't need to be up at any particular hour in the morning -- or at all, really -- and she'd apparently written off any hope of getting more than a couple of hours' sleep before she had to be at work in the morning, so we were in a perfectly cheerful Zen this is now state. The Beatles said it best, of course: "Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go ... "
We finally did find her place, and she invited me up so I could hear a song I mentioned I'd been wanting to hear -- the Tri-State Killing Spree cover of Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time. Very pretty. Most of the members of The Sins used to be in 3SKS -- amazing what a difference a lead singer makes.
Afterward, she sent me on my way with a hug and many thanks. I drove home smiling.
So apparently there was a great big huge windstorm today. I love windstorms. I'm a little sorry I slept through it.
Up late last night. Had a good time. retcon and treebyleaf and I realized that we were unsatisfied with the Christmas dinners we'd had -- mine was a turkey dinner with the family, despite the continued efforts my father and I have made to try to convince my mother that we actually don't like turkey, and theirs was a last-minute slap-dash assortment of foods they assembled on realizing that they hadn't made any plans for Christmas dinner, so it seemed important to us to have a nice dinner on Boxing Day.
We ended up going to the new Olive Garden at Northgate North with our friend lokheed (who, I must mention had some lovely things to say about us in his journal on Christmas). Took a while for us to get a waiter to come over, but after we pointed this out to them, we got great service for the rest of the meal, a personal apology from the manager, and free desserts. I almost felt a little bad we'd said anything in the first place, but it was really nice of them.
From one horrifying architectural monstrosity to the next, I headed out after dinner to the Experience Music Project to see a free concert -- local goth bands Abney Park, Doll Factory, and The Sins. Couldn't talk Riff or treebyleaf into coming along, as they both had to work in the morning and were both exhausted already anyway.
Concert was a lot of fun. Saw several seagoths, although not as many as I'd expected. I thought The Sins were, err, pretty awful, actually. They have an amazing electric violin player, but he wasn't enough to make up for the shouty screechy lead singer. (Any Sins fans out there: I'm sorry. No, I don't mean I'm sorry for offending you -- I mean, I'm actually sorry you're fans.) Doll Factory and Abney Park were both excellent, though. I'd heard some of their music before, but it was much better to hear it live -- so much energy.
So, okay. There was this girl.
I'd been sitting there feeling kind of -- well, melancholy, really. Don't get me wrong. I love treebyleaf dearly. But every now and then, when I'm out Having Fun, I become painfully aware that I'm not dating someone who enjoys Having Fun; that there isn't anyone in my life who I could take with me to something like this who would enjoy it.
So I'm watching this girl dance. Now, this is Seattle. People don't dance at concerts. They just don't. But she clearly didn't care. (And she'd clearly had a few drinks, which probably helped with the "not caring" part.) Her most endearing gesture, to my mind, was the hand that kept sliding up into her hair and holding it back out of her eyes in a ponytail. Pretty cute. Do you know the type of girl I'm talking about here? A party girl.
And at one point, as she slipped past me in the crowd, I was thinking to myself, That's as close as I'm ever likely to get to a girl like this.
I was pretty surprised, then, when she came over later, pointed to the seat next to mine, and asked if it was taken. Even more surprised when she actually started up a conversation with me. I was generally pretty amused and charmed by her and flattered by her attention.
Eventually, she looked around and realized that her friends were gone -- she'd been ditched there without any way of getting home. Great friends, huh?
Before I could change my mind, I said, "Don't worry. I'll take you home."
Now see, in my little word, this is Not Done. You don't allow strangers into your home or vehicle. But, hell, it was Christmas, still. And this was well within the spirit of standing on top of ladders. And I didn't figure it was too likely that she was a serial killer or con artist.
Of course, she had no real way of knowing that I wasn't a serial killer or con artist, so I was a little surprised at how readily she accepted, and grateful to whatever god or saint watches over fools, drunkards and children that she had ended up in my charge rather than fall into the hands of someone who would rob, murder, and sodomize her; probably in that order.
She bought herself another drink she clearly didn't need at last call, and was determined to sit and finish it even when the security guard was trying to throw us out as the bar was closing down around us. After I reassured the guard that we'd be gone in a minute, she turned to me and said something very interesting:
"You're used to doing what other people tell you to do, aren't you?"
I was a little stunned by this. I told her that no, it was just that I was used to being on the security guard's side of this interaction -- but it was still an interesting question, and one that's stuck with me that I'll have to think about.
So here's a little suggestion I have for you, if you're ever in a hurry: Don't give a ride home to someone who's been drinking, has recently moved, isn't real familiar with the area, and frankly, isn't really quite sure that she knows how to direct you to her place. It took us probably over two hours of driving around for me to piece together her rambling (does she live in Bellevue? Redmond? Somewhere between the two?) and actually find her place. I'm convinced we finally managed it more by accident than by anything else.
The weather was terrible, a precursor of this morning's storm. Heavy rain and slick roads. Things got a little skiddy a couple of times, but there was practically no one else on the road to worry about, so I wasn't bothered, and I don't think she even noticed.
I realized at the time that most other people would probably find the whole situation aggravating and intolerable, but it was just all so absurd I had to laugh at it. So was she. Giggly, talkative, and screwing up all the preset stations on my radio, she made fine company for getting completely lost. I didn't need to be up at any particular hour in the morning -- or at all, really -- and she'd apparently written off any hope of getting more than a couple of hours' sleep before she had to be at work in the morning, so we were in a perfectly cheerful Zen this is now state. The Beatles said it best, of course: "Oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go ... "
We finally did find her place, and she invited me up so I could hear a song I mentioned I'd been wanting to hear -- the Tri-State Killing Spree cover of Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time. Very pretty. Most of the members of The Sins used to be in 3SKS -- amazing what a difference a lead singer makes.
Afterward, she sent me on my way with a hug and many thanks. I drove home smiling.