I'm totally picturing a pervy demon wackin' out pervy sulfuric spooge on your childhood photos.
It felt so nice to actually engage with reality after many weeks of...not. I mean, fantasizing about robots and dinosaurs is all fine and dandy, but it's just not reality, with all its really amazing...realness. And that's a damn tragedy.
SO. The Hip Hoo and I left UCLA right at 5 on Friday...and made it to the 405 about an hour later. Just to give you an idea, kids, UCLA IS LESS THAN A MILE AWAY FROM THE 405. We were struggling to reach Santa Cruz for the midnight showing of "Paranormal Activity," and given that the drive takes about 6 hours, we were a bit pressed for time. All this aside, it was a pleasant drive, full of pleasant company, pleasant conversation and pleasant music, including such soothing and sophisticated cd mixes as "Songs Not to Have Gay Sex To," (which started out exactly how it sounds, but then became a bunch of songs that were exactly the kind one would have gay sex to. Not that I would know), and a bunch of songs about eating chicken and birthday cake.
At one point we got lost and decided right then would be a good time to eat, as our stomachs were singing a "Feed me right fucking now or I'll totally fucking devour myself you, you...FUCK!"-duet. And thus we found the promised land: In-N-Out Burger. Oh I love me some In-N-Out Burger, and I proved myself a huge dork by actually whispering my clandestine selection from the "secret menu." Animal style Double-Double with a strawberry shake, wut, wut!
Hip Hoo could not measure up to my vastly steelier steel-lined "secret menu" cojones, and ordered a plain Double-Double. I felt sorry for her soul after watching the delight, envy and regret spread across her face after sampling my animalistic treasure. (<- I'm...kinda creeped out by this sentence.)
Later that night...
Hip Hoo and I had actually discussed the movie "Paranormal Activity" before we were invited to go see it with K. and A., and we had both decided that while it looked great, being able to sleep again at some point this lifetime was better than actively shitting our pants. But we couldn't turn down the invitation to watch it with good pals, we knew midnight screenings are always fun, and we did sorta want to see it. Which meant that as far as we were concerned it was a win-win situation: miss the movie and sleep peacefully, or see the movie and get freaked out when your twitchy friend spoons you and makes weird mouth noises in the middle of the night.
And the movie...Oh. God. It was terrifying. Hip Hoo said that she wasn't that scared, but then again her eyes were closed for most of it so...
We engaged in trusty "laugh away your fear" coping skills afterward, which involved brainstorming the demon's motivations for haunting the main character, Katie. Many options were bandied about, but the two we decided were most likely were as follows: either the demon was as entranced with her breasts as we were, or it simply wanted her to come downstairs and get the internet on the computer working.
The drive back to K's house in Santa Clara would have been fine, albeit a little bit creepy that late at night, if not for the 5-0 and my paranoia. Hip Hoo and I were discussing the movie, lazily drifting all over the road since we were tired, blurry-eyed, and had only vague sense of where we were going. All the sudden, bright flashing lights appeared behind us, and as 'Hoo made motions to pull over, I freaked out and screamed, "No! I don't like this, Hoo. How do we know that's a real cop?!" Hoo tried to pull over anyway, and the "cop" behind us told us not to over the speaker, to find somewhere else. I frantically called K. to tell her I had a bad feeling some rapist (or Decepticon) was trying to get us to pull over on a deserted highway at 2 a.m. She advised that we find a well-lit area to pull over, so I told 'Hoo to put the emergency lights on and we sloooowly pulled off on some random exit to find a gas station, all the while some psycho (yours truly) kept mumbling "idon'tlikethisidon'tlikethisidon'tlikethis..."
Well. Turns it out they WERE real cops (and not Decepticons) and they were very nice, although a bit confused by our behavior. ("We couldn't figure out if you were trying to get away...slowly.") I explained my reasoning to the one cop, and while I didn't straight out call him a greasy sex offender, I'm sure it was implied. Once they figured out we weren't drunk, but just tired, lost and freaked out, they told us to calm down and sent us on our way with nary a ticket.
Given how convinced I was that I'd never sleep again, when we got to K and A's apartment exhaustion won out and I passed out almost immediately. It also didn't hurt that K, A and I were piled on the bed (with A. on the "demon" side of the bed) and Hoo on the floor. Comforted by the thought that even if attacked 'Hoo and A would be eaten first, K and I slipped into slippery slumber.
And on Saturday...San Fran!
Oh, San Fran! I only went once before on a conference in 2004, but didn't see any of the city and was so sleep-deprived that most of my memories of that time are a blur.
We started out the day at the Fisherman's Wharf, wandering around while breathing in the sweet smells of sourdough bread, salt air, and rancid seal. Seriously. The seals at the pier were fucking rank. The posted signs said they were mostly male, while the females chilled elsewhere. Maybe they just up and decided one day that since there were no women around they'd let themselves go, getting stinkier and stinkier, piling up on the docks in odoriferous mounds, clambering all over each other in belching, slimy, rubbery hills of horrid stank.
Or maybe seals just smell bad naturally.
We stopped at A's work, Viz Media for a bit, goggling at the stacks and racks of manga, before heading over to Coit Tower and checking out the great views of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. (Though I did have to explain to my mom that I was only looking at Alcatraz and not actually in it.)
Later on we met up with the lovely, amazing helsha at Falletti Foods for a late lunch, and discussed such lively topics as surly bunnies and theater lighting. From there we trekked to the NEW PEOPLE building in Japantown. We spent a good amount of time in Baby the Stars Shine Bright and Alice and the Pirates, and I don't think there has been another hour in my life where I wanted a sewing machine more than I did then (plus the ability to actually use it). I wanted it ALL.
I wanted to tear the dresses off the hangars and roll around in cupcakes, lace and apathy for a good 20 minutes, my mouth stuffed full of bows and bobby socks. *sigh*
Getting out of the city was a bit of a chore, as there was this so-called "LovEvolution" Festival going on. (Link plays music.) Which basically meant spending an hour or so struggling to get out of the city while trying not to get distracted by the hordes of sweaty young bodies adorned with pink lycra, feathers, paint and not much else.
Eventually we made it back to K and A's apartment, but not before stopping at a Halloween store to ogle the sheer variety and styles of costumes for women to choose from: sexy nun, sexy cop, sexy beer maid, sexy banana...They even have mini versions of those same costumes for your slutty 3-year old. And if you were agonizing over what to get for the little tart in your life, fear not, for they have heard the sultry wails of toddling harlots the world over.
Back at the apartment K decided to play Pretty Polly Jacuzzi Dress-Up, before soaking in said jacuzzi, where Hoo and I outnumbered our smooth-shaven friend with our hairy limbs 2-1. Boo ya! Pretty Polly Dress-Up continued as we headed out for dinner and margaritas, and after dinner we nearly passed out on the couch while watching a film about communist canola or something.
Sunday...Dusty Sunday~!
Sunday was the dawning of the most magical Renaissance Faire EVER: Northern California Renaissance Faire. Seriously, though. It was probably the best one I've attended. It took place near the Casa de Fruta, a sprawling complex near a huge orchard, and it included the Casa de Sweets, Casa de Wine, Casa de Restaurant and the Casa de Choo Choo and Carousel in the middle of Casa de Fucking Nowhere. The whole place was surrounded by beautiful rolling hills, desert, farms and hand-painted signs advertising "Cherries and Garlic," "Nectarines and Pistachios" and "Lots of Other Random Shit." Oh! And hay! Tons of hay. I wanted to get some on the way home, but 'Hoo refused. I told her she'd regret it, because not only was it on sale, but the one time she needed hay (like if she felt the urge to re-enact the Nativity) it wouldn't be on hand. Oh, well. There's no reasoning with some people.
ANYWAY. Yeah, so, the Faire. It was great .K.'s coworker S. came along, and all of us traipsed around all day in our costumes. K was Ruby Red, the Cowardly Pirate, S was Maiden With A Super-Cute Straw Hat, 'Hoo was Horatio the Italian Prince, Who Carries No Weapons ("I don't need a sword, I fight with my mind!), and I was Bob, the Time-Traveling Vampire Photographer. There were all the usual Faire staples: jousting, overpriced leather goods, wings, exploding decolletage and creepy wand-salesmen. It reminded me how much I miss Ren Faires, and again, how much I wanted a sewing machine. At one point we passed this lady who had a huge fucking owl in her lap, and while K. was entranced, Hip Hoo and I hung back while frantically chanting, "It's not an owl!!!!"
The drive back to L.A. was uneventful, and we got there by 9 pm. It was still pretty early, so 'Hoo hung out with me a bit, eating noodles and hot dogs while watching Beast Wars Transformers, with me trying to convince her that it was the deepest, most important television program EVER SHOWN. I'm not sure that I was all that successful.
A truly awesome weekend, my loves.
SO. The Hip Hoo and I left UCLA right at 5 on Friday...and made it to the 405 about an hour later. Just to give you an idea, kids, UCLA IS LESS THAN A MILE AWAY FROM THE 405. We were struggling to reach Santa Cruz for the midnight showing of "Paranormal Activity," and given that the drive takes about 6 hours, we were a bit pressed for time. All this aside, it was a pleasant drive, full of pleasant company, pleasant conversation and pleasant music, including such soothing and sophisticated cd mixes as "Songs Not to Have Gay Sex To," (which started out exactly how it sounds, but then became a bunch of songs that were exactly the kind one would have gay sex to. Not that I would know), and a bunch of songs about eating chicken and birthday cake.
At one point we got lost and decided right then would be a good time to eat, as our stomachs were singing a "Feed me right fucking now or I'll totally fucking devour myself you, you...FUCK!"-duet. And thus we found the promised land: In-N-Out Burger. Oh I love me some In-N-Out Burger, and I proved myself a huge dork by actually whispering my clandestine selection from the "secret menu." Animal style Double-Double with a strawberry shake, wut, wut!
Hip Hoo could not measure up to my vastly steelier steel-lined "secret menu" cojones, and ordered a plain Double-Double. I felt sorry for her soul after watching the delight, envy and regret spread across her face after sampling my animalistic treasure. (<- I'm...kinda creeped out by this sentence.)
Later that night...
Hip Hoo and I had actually discussed the movie "Paranormal Activity" before we were invited to go see it with K. and A., and we had both decided that while it looked great, being able to sleep again at some point this lifetime was better than actively shitting our pants. But we couldn't turn down the invitation to watch it with good pals, we knew midnight screenings are always fun, and we did sorta want to see it. Which meant that as far as we were concerned it was a win-win situation: miss the movie and sleep peacefully, or see the movie and get freaked out when your twitchy friend spoons you and makes weird mouth noises in the middle of the night.
And the movie...Oh. God. It was terrifying. Hip Hoo said that she wasn't that scared, but then again her eyes were closed for most of it so...
We engaged in trusty "laugh away your fear" coping skills afterward, which involved brainstorming the demon's motivations for haunting the main character, Katie. Many options were bandied about, but the two we decided were most likely were as follows: either the demon was as entranced with her breasts as we were, or it simply wanted her to come downstairs and get the internet on the computer working.
The drive back to K's house in Santa Clara would have been fine, albeit a little bit creepy that late at night, if not for the 5-0 and my paranoia. Hip Hoo and I were discussing the movie, lazily drifting all over the road since we were tired, blurry-eyed, and had only vague sense of where we were going. All the sudden, bright flashing lights appeared behind us, and as 'Hoo made motions to pull over, I freaked out and screamed, "No! I don't like this, Hoo. How do we know that's a real cop?!" Hoo tried to pull over anyway, and the "cop" behind us told us not to over the speaker, to find somewhere else. I frantically called K. to tell her I had a bad feeling some rapist (or Decepticon) was trying to get us to pull over on a deserted highway at 2 a.m. She advised that we find a well-lit area to pull over, so I told 'Hoo to put the emergency lights on and we sloooowly pulled off on some random exit to find a gas station, all the while some psycho (yours truly) kept mumbling "idon'tlikethisidon'tlikethisidon'tlikethis..."
Well. Turns it out they WERE real cops (and not Decepticons) and they were very nice, although a bit confused by our behavior. ("We couldn't figure out if you were trying to get away...slowly.") I explained my reasoning to the one cop, and while I didn't straight out call him a greasy sex offender, I'm sure it was implied. Once they figured out we weren't drunk, but just tired, lost and freaked out, they told us to calm down and sent us on our way with nary a ticket.
Given how convinced I was that I'd never sleep again, when we got to K and A's apartment exhaustion won out and I passed out almost immediately. It also didn't hurt that K, A and I were piled on the bed (with A. on the "demon" side of the bed) and Hoo on the floor. Comforted by the thought that even if attacked 'Hoo and A would be eaten first, K and I slipped into slippery slumber.
And on Saturday...San Fran!
Oh, San Fran! I only went once before on a conference in 2004, but didn't see any of the city and was so sleep-deprived that most of my memories of that time are a blur.
We started out the day at the Fisherman's Wharf, wandering around while breathing in the sweet smells of sourdough bread, salt air, and rancid seal. Seriously. The seals at the pier were fucking rank. The posted signs said they were mostly male, while the females chilled elsewhere. Maybe they just up and decided one day that since there were no women around they'd let themselves go, getting stinkier and stinkier, piling up on the docks in odoriferous mounds, clambering all over each other in belching, slimy, rubbery hills of horrid stank.
Or maybe seals just smell bad naturally.
We stopped at A's work, Viz Media for a bit, goggling at the stacks and racks of manga, before heading over to Coit Tower and checking out the great views of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. (Though I did have to explain to my mom that I was only looking at Alcatraz and not actually in it.)
Later on we met up with the lovely, amazing helsha at Falletti Foods for a late lunch, and discussed such lively topics as surly bunnies and theater lighting. From there we trekked to the NEW PEOPLE building in Japantown. We spent a good amount of time in Baby the Stars Shine Bright and Alice and the Pirates, and I don't think there has been another hour in my life where I wanted a sewing machine more than I did then (plus the ability to actually use it). I wanted it ALL.
I wanted to tear the dresses off the hangars and roll around in cupcakes, lace and apathy for a good 20 minutes, my mouth stuffed full of bows and bobby socks. *sigh*
Getting out of the city was a bit of a chore, as there was this so-called "LovEvolution" Festival going on. (Link plays music.) Which basically meant spending an hour or so struggling to get out of the city while trying not to get distracted by the hordes of sweaty young bodies adorned with pink lycra, feathers, paint and not much else.
Eventually we made it back to K and A's apartment, but not before stopping at a Halloween store to ogle the sheer variety and styles of costumes for women to choose from: sexy nun, sexy cop, sexy beer maid, sexy banana...They even have mini versions of those same costumes for your slutty 3-year old. And if you were agonizing over what to get for the little tart in your life, fear not, for they have heard the sultry wails of toddling harlots the world over.
Back at the apartment K decided to play Pretty Polly Jacuzzi Dress-Up, before soaking in said jacuzzi, where Hoo and I outnumbered our smooth-shaven friend with our hairy limbs 2-1. Boo ya! Pretty Polly Dress-Up continued as we headed out for dinner and margaritas, and after dinner we nearly passed out on the couch while watching a film about communist canola or something.
Sunday...Dusty Sunday~!
Sunday was the dawning of the most magical Renaissance Faire EVER: Northern California Renaissance Faire. Seriously, though. It was probably the best one I've attended. It took place near the Casa de Fruta, a sprawling complex near a huge orchard, and it included the Casa de Sweets, Casa de Wine, Casa de Restaurant and the Casa de Choo Choo and Carousel in the middle of Casa de Fucking Nowhere. The whole place was surrounded by beautiful rolling hills, desert, farms and hand-painted signs advertising "Cherries and Garlic," "Nectarines and Pistachios" and "Lots of Other Random Shit." Oh! And hay! Tons of hay. I wanted to get some on the way home, but 'Hoo refused. I told her she'd regret it, because not only was it on sale, but the one time she needed hay (like if she felt the urge to re-enact the Nativity) it wouldn't be on hand. Oh, well. There's no reasoning with some people.
ANYWAY. Yeah, so, the Faire. It was great .K.'s coworker S. came along, and all of us traipsed around all day in our costumes. K was Ruby Red, the Cowardly Pirate, S was Maiden With A Super-Cute Straw Hat, 'Hoo was Horatio the Italian Prince, Who Carries No Weapons ("I don't need a sword, I fight with my mind!), and I was Bob, the Time-Traveling Vampire Photographer. There were all the usual Faire staples: jousting, overpriced leather goods, wings, exploding decolletage and creepy wand-salesmen. It reminded me how much I miss Ren Faires, and again, how much I wanted a sewing machine. At one point we passed this lady who had a huge fucking owl in her lap, and while K. was entranced, Hip Hoo and I hung back while frantically chanting, "It's not an owl!!!!"
The drive back to L.A. was uneventful, and we got there by 9 pm. It was still pretty early, so 'Hoo hung out with me a bit, eating noodles and hot dogs while watching Beast Wars Transformers, with me trying to convince her that it was the deepest, most important television program EVER SHOWN. I'm not sure that I was all that successful.
A truly awesome weekend, my loves.