The Mother of All Recaps [Part Four, or, Maybe People and Falafel are One and the Same]
Listlessness is a funny thing - it usually rears its ugly head when so many things need to be accomplished. I think I'm improving though. I've been getting out more often, albeit at gunpoint sometimes, and I even dragged the ol' moped out for some sidewalk maintenance, incurring the unwanted attention of the neighborhood drunks. Fortunately, some of these drunks really know their shit when it comes to mopeds, so huzzah for their state-dependent learning.
So being that I'm attempting to overcome Sloth, I'm accepting a gauntlet that was thrown down the other day. 1.5 months ex post facto, I'm finally going to finish recounting my trip [if only I can do it justice]. Names have been altered to protect continuity and promote cross-blog amity.
30 December, 2007, I wake up in a chilly attic again around 10am, cursing myself for staying up until past 3 the night before, watching History of the World, Part I. After showering, throwing a week's worth of dirty clothes together, and barelling down the stairs of my aunt and uncle's house, I found a note saying for me not to leave until they got back from church. Craphole. I made good use of my time though, and drove back across town to my grandparents' to install a lighting fixture* and say goodbye. I briefly touched base with aunt, uncle, and cousin, thanking them for sheltering and feeding my scrawny ass - they responded by giving me a crock pot** and a pork loin. Interesting.
I finally got underway in the early afternoon, careening along state routes through the backwoods of New Jersey, almost running out of gas and narrowly miss being plowed into by a soccer mom. Thanks, New Jersey. But no worries. I was off to bigger and better places, namely Philadelphia, where I planned on attacking the Sailor Jerry Store with gusto*** and eventually meeting up with The One and Only Caustic Cupcake [cue fanfare]. She's apparently somewhat familiar with the area, so I hired her and her Logic Professor to show me around town in exchange for homemade peppermint bark****.
I got into town early, and in traditional Robbie-fashion, it started drizzling. This did not stop for the entirety of the afternoon. Fortunately, parking was never bad, and it wasn't really that cold. I finished up my belated Christmas shopping for my girlfriend[?] at Sailor Jerry, and maneuvered my way over to the Designated Meeting Area, located in the hands-down coolest neighborhood I've seen on the East Coast. If you think of the word "eclectic," the kneejerk associated image definitely matches this part of town. So I found a spot on a side street, emerge in front of an oddly-placed major grocery store, and proceed to march down the street, waiting to hear from Cupcake. At that moment, I was concerned with A) Finding coffee, B) Exuding an aura of badassness sufficient enough to impress every Philadelphian I passed, C) Trying not to be completely petrified nervous about how uncool/weird the Cupcake is going to think I am, and D) Ignoring the ever-increasing amount of precipitation falling from the sky.
I had just succeeding in achieving Concern A, when I got the news that Cupcake and LoPro were also experiencing the same level of New Jersey awesomeness that I had en route to the city - apparently a water main had broken near her their Flat and traffic was unavoidably laywaid. Cupcake asked if I was getting by okay in the uncharted territory. I was unphased.
"I just got coffee, so I'm totally fine," I said. "And everyone I run into is so nice! It's great!"
"Are you sure you're in Phil4delphia?"
"I think so..."
Here's where I let the past weekend catch up to me and I collape in a corner - despite the awesome subject matter I'm composing, my hatred of the Marine Corps + my awkward social/significant other situation [or lack thereof] is leaving me kind of depressed. So yes, I'm postponing yet again, but man, these entries are pretty fun. Conclusion to follow.
*This is why boy-grandkids exist - to fix and install various things after age 16.
**I <3 this thing. Veggie chili is SO EASY with a crock pot.
***Well, as much gusto as a poor theatre tech can have on a limited budget in what normal people might call a "specialty boutique." But I swear if you tell me I shop at a boutique, I will make your ears bleed.
****It seemed like a fair trade at the time, but in retrospect, a) How weird is it for a veritable stranger to cook food for you, and b) If I had to quantify time in terms of homemade chocolate, they deserve at least two or three more bags, but man, I'd really have to perfect the recipe.
So being that I'm attempting to overcome Sloth, I'm accepting a gauntlet that was thrown down the other day. 1.5 months ex post facto, I'm finally going to finish recounting my trip [if only I can do it justice]. Names have been altered to protect continuity and promote cross-blog amity.
30 December, 2007, I wake up in a chilly attic again around 10am, cursing myself for staying up until past 3 the night before, watching History of the World, Part I. After showering, throwing a week's worth of dirty clothes together, and barelling down the stairs of my aunt and uncle's house, I found a note saying for me not to leave until they got back from church. Craphole. I made good use of my time though, and drove back across town to my grandparents' to install a lighting fixture* and say goodbye. I briefly touched base with aunt, uncle, and cousin, thanking them for sheltering and feeding my scrawny ass - they responded by giving me a crock pot** and a pork loin. Interesting.
I finally got underway in the early afternoon, careening along state routes through the backwoods of New Jersey, almost running out of gas and narrowly miss being plowed into by a soccer mom. Thanks, New Jersey. But no worries. I was off to bigger and better places, namely Philadelphia, where I planned on attacking the Sailor Jerry Store with gusto*** and eventually meeting up with The One and Only Caustic Cupcake [cue fanfare]. She's apparently somewhat familiar with the area, so I hired her and her Logic Professor to show me around town in exchange for homemade peppermint bark****.
I got into town early, and in traditional Robbie-fashion, it started drizzling. This did not stop for the entirety of the afternoon. Fortunately, parking was never bad, and it wasn't really that cold. I finished up my belated Christmas shopping for my girlfriend[?] at Sailor Jerry, and maneuvered my way over to the Designated Meeting Area, located in the hands-down coolest neighborhood I've seen on the East Coast. If you think of the word "eclectic," the kneejerk associated image definitely matches this part of town. So I found a spot on a side street, emerge in front of an oddly-placed major grocery store, and proceed to march down the street, waiting to hear from Cupcake. At that moment, I was concerned with A) Finding coffee, B) Exuding an aura of badassness sufficient enough to impress every Philadelphian I passed, C) Trying not to be completely petrified nervous about how uncool/weird the Cupcake is going to think I am, and D) Ignoring the ever-increasing amount of precipitation falling from the sky.
I had just succeeding in achieving Concern A, when I got the news that Cupcake and LoPro were also experiencing the same level of New Jersey awesomeness that I had en route to the city - apparently a water main had broken near her their Flat and traffic was unavoidably laywaid. Cupcake asked if I was getting by okay in the uncharted territory. I was unphased.
"I just got coffee, so I'm totally fine," I said. "And everyone I run into is so nice! It's great!"
"Are you sure you're in Phil4delphia?"
"I think so..."
Here's where I let the past weekend catch up to me and I collape in a corner - despite the awesome subject matter I'm composing, my hatred of the Marine Corps + my awkward social/significant other situation [or lack thereof] is leaving me kind of depressed. So yes, I'm postponing yet again, but man, these entries are pretty fun. Conclusion to follow.
*This is why boy-grandkids exist - to fix and install various things after age 16.
**I <3 this thing. Veggie chili is SO EASY with a crock pot.
***Well, as much gusto as a poor theatre tech can have on a limited budget in what normal people might call a "specialty boutique." But I swear if you tell me I shop at a boutique, I will make your ears bleed.
****It seemed like a fair trade at the time, but in retrospect, a) How weird is it for a veritable stranger to cook food for you, and b) If I had to quantify time in terms of homemade chocolate, they deserve at least two or three more bags, but man, I'd really have to perfect the recipe.