Does anyone have any advice on how to remember to water your plants? It would be really helpful if someone created a plant that meowed at you to remind you to feed it. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason Tobe is fed on a regular basis. Plus, wouldn't a meowing plant be the coolest? Elyse, you should work on this.
kill yr idols
Last night Faye and I watched “Last Days”. I have been threatening to see this film since it premiered at SIFF, but, for various reasons, never got around to it. I didn't expect much from it, considering I have only ever enjoyed ONE Gus Van Sant film. The guy is just not a good filmmaker. Self-importance aside, his dirty-old-man vibe gives me the willies. There are many out-of-work actors who could play Mormon missionaries, but 'Ol Gus had to hire a set of young, supple, yet extremely green twins instead. And I'm sure he hired them with not a HINT of ulterior motive. Gus got lucky with Michael Pitt who is not only young and supple, but can also act.
But crappy filmmaking decisions aside, the thing that really bugged me about the film was brought to light by Faye. “This movie is making me hate Kurt Cobain” she said. And she was right. I don't know how Gus MEANT to portray Kurt, but if he intended to show that this man who was revered as a rock God was nothing more than a fucked up junkie who stumbled into fame, couldn't get clean, neglected his family and friends and then unintentionally blew his head off, then mission accomplished. Sure, Kurt wrote great songs and changed the face of rock and roll, but was it all accidental? It wasn't the fame that got to Kurt. It was his severe depression and his addictive nature. He probably would have ended up the same way without the record contract and he would have been dismissed as another junkie statistic, if his death even registered at all.
It wasn't just the movie that got me re-evaluating my feelings toward a guy I formerly revered. I also recently read “Life on Planet Rock” by Lonn Friend, the ex-RIP magazine editor. In his chapter about Nirvana, Kurt came off as a dick and a headcase. Just because someone can write a good song (or novel or poem) doesn't give them a license to act like selfish children. Kurt seemed to take one look at Lonn Friend, dismiss him as corporate crap, and that was that. Perhaps he was just having an off day. Perhaps he was strung out (because that's a good excuse..) but I've read an awful lot of interviews and books about him and they all suggest the same thing: The guy spent most of his life pushing away the people who wanted to help him and only letting equally fucked up people in. Tell me again why he's such a hero to so many people?
It's a similar revelation I had with “Catcher in the Rye”. In high school, I related to Holden Caulfield because I was a lonely, bitter teenage asshole. As an adult, I still think “Catcher” is a great piece of literature, but now I feel sorry for Holden because he is really the ONLY ONE standing in the way of his happiness. Sure, the world is full of phonies. But there are good people too. Lots of them. And if you just assume that each new person you meet will screw you over, you're going to lead a long (or short) lonely life.
Both Holden and Kurt ended their stories before anyone of influence could tell them to just grow up. Gus Van Sant may have made a long, pretentious, extremely flawed film, but the story he told still had an effect.
this ones gonna blow
Brugos' new Bettie Page mural on the side of his house has caused a stir on the Seattle LJ community! It's pretty neat to get to hang out in a house that will probably become a Seattle landmark.
Hawaiian Adventure Recap
Yes, that’s right. I went to Hawaii last Wednesday and stayed through the weekend. Vacation days are scarce for me, but how could I pass up a most-expense paid trip to Oahu with the Brugos family? The rhetorical answer is, of course, that I couldn’t. So what follows is my recounting of the Little Goth Girl’s Hawaiian vacation.
WEDNESDAY
Brugos and I got on an early flight which would get us to Hawaii at 11:30am. This was, lovely because it left us practically an entire day of adventure after 5 and-a-half hours on a plane. Sometimes differing time zones can really work in your favor. Our flight was baby heavy (with one in particular screaming in Brugos’ ear the entire time), but we got through it and met the elder Brugoses and his brother Todd and brother’s girlfriend, Jessie at the airport. (Note: It was slightly difficult for me to get used to the fact that EVERYBODY there was a Brugos and that I had to just call my Brugos, Chris. But in the interest of consistency on my blog, Brugos will continue to be Brugos.)
Mother B greeted me with a fresh lei, which answered my internal question about whether or not you REALLY get lei’d when you arrive at the airport. We rented two cars and the kids headed off to the hotel in Waikiki.
Our rooms weren’t to be ready till 3 so we changed into our suits and headed to the bar and grill by the pool for drinks and snacks.
I immediately felt a little silly in my granny swimsuit. This has never been an issue for me in Seattle, but in HI, everyone is in a two-piece and I was definitely feeling conspicuously goth in all my extra fabric, so I asked Brugos if we could do a quick run to a surf shop after lunch to, perhaps, buy me a more practical swimsuit. How naïve of me to think it would be that easy.
I had forgotten that to find my current swimsuit, I had to search long and hard. Not for the granny aspect of it, mind you. That’s easy enough to come by. The difficulty arose in fining something that could contain my girls. This was before my surgery, but they are still fairly large and, apparently, still unable to squeeze into any bikini one might find in a beach-side swim-shop. I tried on the largest suits on could find, but the cup size never seemed to get any bigger. Not being a fan of shopping anyway, I tired of the ordeal quickly. I decided to go to one last shop. The little lady running the place got involved and tried to help. She asked me my size. I told her usually I am an 8-10 dress size, but big up top so probably a large. She said she thought I was a medium, but gave me the large. I tried it on and couldn’t squeeze in. I came out of the dressing room, ready to leave but she wouldn’t hear of it. “You try this one,” she said, thrusting another suit into my hands. I went back into the dressing room and suffered the same results. Apparently, she didn’t believe me, so she sent Brugos in to check it out. He confirmed the spillage and I tried to leave the shop again. On our way to the door, she continued to thrust tops into my hands, but I was fairly certain they weren’t going to fit. She didn’t seem to understand. “You not so big,” she said. I protested that I was actually a D cup which isn’t small. “No. You only a C,” she said. “That’s not what my bra says,” I argued. And then I realized that I didn’t really need to be arguing my breast size with the swim-shop owner and left. I haven’t been so frustrated by shopping since before my reduction and I had forgotten how crappy it felt to have so much trouble finding something to fit me. But as I talked it over with Brugos, I realized that few girls I know have the off-the-rack body that seems so prevalent. Most of us need to go to department stores. By the time I got back to the hotel, I was feeling ok in my granny suit again. Damn you, warm weather, for making me succumb, however temporarily, to societal pressures.
Swimsuit debacle over, Brugos and I got some booze from the corner store (each corner had, like, TWO of them…all of which sell liquor!) and had a quick little happy hour in our room before hitting the beach. Our hotel was right on the beach, so we didn’t have far to go to get to the ocean. I was pretty excited to see ocean. It’s been a long time. Brugos blew up the $3 raft we bought and we hit the warm-bathwater ocean for a little floating time.
After the sun started to set, we headed back to the room to shower and get ready for dinner. We met the family in the lobby and strolled up the street to a place called Lou Lou’s. A quick glance of the menu relieved my worries that this would be a trip full of salads for me. The veggie selection wasn’t awesome, but I had more than one option. I can see how poor Miki had so much trouble finding Vegan food though.
The live music was a little too loud, but it was pretty amusing. Three guys played Hawaiianized rock music including “Creep” by Stone Temple Pilots, “Riders on the Storm” and a ton of Beatles. Every song sounded exactly the same and were impossible to recognize until the lyrics began. So this is Hawaiian music, eh?
After dinner, we wandered up the street in the other direction. We stopped at the oldest hotel on the island (the name of which escapes me) which was large and white and had a bit of a Plantation feel to it in architecture. We had a drink by the pool and listened to two fellows playing MORE Hawaiianized versions of songs. This guy was playing songs that I don’t even like the originals of (U2 and “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay” come to mind). It was hard not to make fun of it. I think that Todd and Jessie were digging it though, because they seemed a little annoyed by mine and Brugos’ jokes.
As we sipped our drinks, we all realized we were quite tired. It was after midnight in our bodies, so we headed back to the hotel and went to bed.
The bed with its down comforter and down mattress topper was so ridiculously comfortable, that I was asleep in record time. I NEED to get me one of those.
THURSDAY
We met the family for the hotel buffet. The eggs were light and fluffy and there were plenty of things I could eat. The waitress came by to check on us and, apparently, flirt with Brugos and Todd. She asked Mother B why their sons were so good looking. (Burn!). She told Brugos that he looked like an actor and that she should know because her daughter works in Hollywood. She kept coming back to he table to say how good looking the boys were. At one point, she gave Brugos a palm reading and declared that he would have financial success and wife with a mind of her own.
Over breakfast, Mother B told us about the terrorist attempt out of Britain and the new reactionary measures at the airport. Since we still had a few days left there, I hoped that things would calm down a little bit before I flew out.
After breakfast, we headed back up to the room to grab some stuff, and them met Todd and Jessie in the lobby. Brugos and I consulted the concierge on a few important things like directions to a hike that we wanted to take and to a restaurant that my buddy Frankie had suggested in his hometown of Kailua. The concierge was impressed that we knew about the restaurant. Thanks, Frankie, for making us look cool. We also asked about the all-important karaoke, assuming that it would be in long supply in Hawaii. He didn’t know about much, just a little room rental place up the road. But he did say that the sushi bar upstairs in our hotel had it at 10:00. That was good enough for us!
Todd had purchased some boogie boards at a reduced rate from a hotel guest who was leaving, and we had our cheap inflatable thingy, so we nicked some towels from the hotel pool and headed out to Waimanalo Beach for some water play.
The beach was somewhat removed from the touristyness of Waikiki. I tried my hand at boogie boarding but was unable to get past the crashing waves to the calmer part of the water. After a few ear-fulls of water, I decided to read on the beach. Brugos did pretty well and stayed out for a long time. We thought we were being pretty diligent about the sunscreen.
After a few hours of beach time, we headed to Keneke’s BBQ, another concierge recommendation, for a snack. While we waited for our food, we looked around and began to notice a disturbing theme in the décor. There was a giant mural with a cross and some bible quotes and the query “What single event in human history had the power to split time?” Now, I don’t know the exact answer to this riddle, but I’m assuming, based on the fire and brimstone that surrounded us, that it has something to do with Jesus. Yikes! I took pictures of a few of the scarier/weirder messages on the walls. When I got my smoothie, I noticed that cup was chock full of Christian scariness. Had I known what kind of place this was, I wouldn’t have so readily forked over $20 for the cause of the “Fear God Powerlifters”. What gives, anyway? I would have expected this kind of thing below the Mason/Dixon, but we were supposed to be on an island full of godless heathens. Luckily, we got out of there before anyone noticed us non-believers.
On the way back to the hotel, we got a little lost. This wouldn’t have been so much of a problem if we weren’t meeting the Elder Brugoses in the lobby at 4:30 to go to the Mai Tai Cruise. We were pretty beachy and in need of a shower. Unfortunately, we got back at 4:20 and Brugos still had to park the car. He kindly dropped the rest of us off to rush back to our rooms. I just splashed some water on my face and changed and rushed back downstairs again.
The Mai Tai Cruise was actually a large catamaran run by two guys (who looked related). The deal was you paid a flat fee and they took you out onto the water at sunset, and gave you all the Mai Tais you could drink in an hour and a half. Brugos and I vowed to get our moneys’ worth.
While we waited for the boat to leave the beach, we saw some sea turtles in the water! I was pretty excited about that. Apparently, they like to come out and play in high tide.
The boat left the beach and the drinks began flowing soon after. The music was decidedly better on the boat. The Stones were prevalent. Our first mate/bartender was on top of things, bringing us fresh drinks the moment we finished our rounds. Papa B had a theory that if we drank an even number of drinks, we wouldn’t be susceptible to a hangover. By then, Brugos and I were on our 5th drink, so of course, we had to have another.
There was some sea-spray and a little rocking, but overall, the ride was very pleasant. As the sun set, Mama B coerced the couples to pose for pictures at the bow of the boat. I got a nice picture of the sunset. Brugos noticed that the boat was docking and we had consumed 7 Mai Tais. If Papa B’s theory held water, we would need another drink. I couldn’t possibly down another Mai Tai, so Brugos got us some champagne. We were, for all intents and purposes, drunk…in record time! And so was the rest of the family.
The plan, after we docked, was to return to our rooms to freshen up and then meet for karaoke in the sushi bar.
The others weren’t interested in eating sushi, so Brugos and I went to dinner by ourselves. When we arrived at the bar, Brugos asked about where the karaoke would be. “Oh, karaoke is TOMORROW night,” said the hostess. The concierge had given us bad information! We were gutted. But we were still hungry, so we sat down for some sushi and contemplated wandering the streets looking for a karaoke alternative.
The sushi we ordered was DELICIOUS. I had a pickled squash roll (which I’d never even heard of) and it was amazing. Brugos got what he described as the best tuna roll he’d ever eaten. We were definitely in love with our food.
While we enjoyed our spread, he got in touch with the family. They weren’t too upset about the karaoke. They were pretty tired anyway. We said we’d call them if we found anything worthwhile.
After dinner, we hit the streets. We walked quite a long way, but to no avail. I couldn’t believe the lack of karaoke in Waikiki. If only I’d decided not to be so mellow in this trip, I would have undoubtedly comprised an exhaustive list of karaoke establishments from google research beforehand. Why did I forsake the Baxter nature?
After walking about a mile to no avail, we began to lose steam and agreed to give up our quest for the night. Afterall, karaoke would be happening the following night in our very hotel. We could wait. We returned to our room and I once again fell asleep in record time.
FRIDAY
The rest of the family had golf reservations, so Brugos and I decided it would be a good idea to go on a hike. First, we would venture out to Kailua in search of Boots n’ Kimos, the breakfast establishment that Frankie recommended. We followed the very specific directions that our concierge had given us, but I think he gave us TOO much detail, because we had a little trouble finding it. When we finally found the place, we were slightly dismayed to see quite a large number of people standing outside, obviously waiting to be seated.
We went inside and put in our names. Inside, we noticed how small the place was. We were in for a long wait. And of course, I was starving. We got a menu so that we could be good and ready to order when we finally got seated.
Outside, we sat down, pulled out books, and waited patiently. After about 30 minutes of waiting, I noticed that this was a FRIDAY morning. It’s lucky that we came on a weekday. Imagine how impossible it would be to get seated on a Saturday or Sunday morning. I also noticed that quite a few people were getting food to go. After 45 minutes of waiting, I asked Brugos if he would be ok with getting OUR order to go. He said he was. I went in and put in our order. It was a good thing too, because we were still quite far down on the list.
When we finally got our food, I was ready to just eat in the car, but Brugos wanted to find a beach. Unfortunately, we didn’t know the area very well. We found water, but it was in a private neighborhood and there was nowhere to park. We drove around some more, and almost ended up driving onto the marine base, thinking it a park. Finally, we found a playground with a picnic table. That was good enough. Our food was, of course cold by then. The eggs and hash browns we got were only average. The “world famous” pancakes with Macadamia Nut sauce WERE delicious, but I bet they tasted even better hot.
After we ate, we briefly took advantage of the empty swing set, and then got back in the car to head to our hiking trail.
The Manoa Falls hike was another Frank suggestion. He said it wasn’t arduous, which was what I needed because I would be hiking in sandals. We pulled into the lot and were directed to a table full of bug spray to ward off mosquitoes. We walked past several chickens on our way to the trail head. Apparently, roaming chickens are fairly normal.
The trail wasn’t too bad. Hiking through the jungle was AWESOME. The trees in Hawaii are so cool. They are twisty and sinewy and look other-worldly. The falls itself was less than impressive. The concierge had hinted as such. The brochure he showed us was, he said, badly Photoshopped and that this time of year, we would probably only see a trickle of water. He was right. That was ok though. I really only wanted to see the jungle.
On our way back, we took a trail detour which was slightly harder, and muddy. It was a much cooler trail and we had no idea where it was leading. Had we more time, better shoes, and probably some mind-altering substances, we would have followed the trail to the end. As it was, we had none of these things, so we headed back.
On our way back to the hotel, we stopped for ice cream, and I got something I’d never had before: a Snow Cap. It’s shaved ice with condensed milk on top. It was amazing.
The jungle makes you sweaty, even if you aren’t working hard. Happy hour pool side was in order. Brugos touched base with the family, who agreed to give sushi and try, in the interest of karaoke that night. We went back up stairs to shower (so many showers in Hawaii) and then decided to check out Kelly O'Neils, an Irish bar that we’d seen the night before on our stroll. For some reason, I have to go to at least one Irish bar in every city I visit. I especially enjoy them in places that you wouldn’t expect to have an Irish bar.
We sat at the bar and ordered our drinks. A musician was playing tunes by that classic Irish bard, Jimmy Buffet. We noticed that a trivia game was going on, so we decided to join in. All you needed was a console. We did pretty well, especially considering we joined the first game late. For the second game, we came in second, losing by only 300 points (each question being worth up to 1000).
Then it was time for us to meet at the sushi bar. We got to our table, selected our sake, and Brugos asked our hip, young waiter about the karaoke. “Karaoke’s been cancelled tonight,” he responded. “The DJ had a family emergency.” Denied again! We asked him if he knew of anywhere else we could go. For some reason, he must have misjudged us, because he began spouting clubs with numbers for names. “Club 42, Bar 5”. We were so confused. “We just want to know about karaoke,” we said. For some reason he didn’t recognize us as dorks right away. He couldn’t help us with the karaoke.
After another delicious dinner, Brugos and I decided to try hitting the streets again. Karaoke not being a priority for anyone else, we were on our own. We went down a different street this time. It was even less promising than the first. We did get to see some Hawaiian whores, though. They looked so cute in their pink terrycloth dresses.
SATURDAY
Brugos and I met Jessie and Todd to try brunch at a different hotel. According to their guidebook, it was one of the best brunches on Waikiki. I disagree with the book. The wait was longer and there was less for me to eat.
After breakfast, we got our beach stuff together and headed out. Jessie and Todd wanted to go boogie boarding again. Brugos and I decided to go snorkeling. I’d never been before so I was a little nervous.
We arrived at Hanauma Bay and went through the 9-minute orientation (sung to the tune of “Under da Sea”. Then we got our gear and Brugos set about teaching me how to use it. I was pretty crap at first. I had trouble regulating my breathing and was a little freaked out. Brugos suggested that he go ahead and find a nice, calm area for us to head to. While he was gone, I practiced breathing slowing and calmly through my mouth. By the time he got back, I was ready to give it another go.
I got the hang of it pretty quickly after that. I was still slightly more preoccupied with breathing correctly than looking at fishies, but I’m sure that the next time I go, I will be completely fine. I really like swimming with flippers on. I can zoom through the water really fast. The fish were everywhere and I was amazed at how nonplussed they were about the presence of people. Often, I felt like I needed to get out of THEIR way. Pigeons aren’t even that mellow. Brugos directed my attention to a sea turtle. Unfortunately, everyone else in the area overheard him call to me, so 10 people rushed at the poor turtle at once. Of course, he bolted back to sea, but not before I got a good look at him.
We swam across the entire bay. Around that time, my mask started filling up with water. I’d already swallowed water once and had needed to take a breather, so I felt like I was done with this round. We headed in and turned in our gear.
We picked up Todd and Jessie and drove back to the hotel. That night, the parents were going to catch a show. Papa B described it as “Pilipino Music”. This did not appeal to me and Brugos. They were also going to have dinner at a steak house. This, of course, did not appeal to me. We decided to go it alone and have some more sushi at a different place.
I tried more new things. Some of them worked out (the corn roll), some of them didn’t (the fermented soybean roll). It’s not often that I find something SO unappetizing that I have trouble even swallowing one bite. Fermented soybeans, however, are in this exclusive category. They were pungent and slimy with a sticky film. Oh well. Live and learn.
After dinner, we went for a stroll through a quiet part of Waikiki and then returned to the hotel to wait to hear from the family. As we sank into the soft bed, we became less and less hopeful for evening plans. Around 10:00, they called and suggested a quick nightcap by the pool. We could handle that. We also agreed to meet for once last brunch together in our hotel the next morning.
SUNDAY
We brunched in our hotel. The flirty waitress was nowhere to be found. We were scared into thinking we needed to arrive at the airport 3 hours ahead of time, so we took off soon after breakfast. Jessie and Todd were staying on another day, and the Brugos ‘rents were catching a different flight to Maui for the continued vacation. Brugos drove with me to the airport. He was also going to Maui. We agreed to try and meet up for a drink, time permitting.
Security wasn’t that bad, so there was time for a drink. I was apparently not allowed to go to the inter-island terminal, but he could come to mine, so he generously agreed to go through security and meet me at what I thought was half way. (It wasn’t…whoops! Sorry!)
We had some nice, expensive airport cocktails and then returned to our respective terminals. I got on the plane easily enough (liquid-free) but was incredibly dismayed to find myself SURROUNDED BY FUCKING BABIES. Seriously. The flight was like a goddamned daycare. Toddlers roamed the isles, played with their loud toys, and watched DVDs on lap tops with the volume up (if adults can’t do this, why should children be allowed to?). Kids kicked the back of my chair. Babies cried. Parents bickered. It was horrible. Why do families like this GO on long vacations? It seems to me like they would want to wait until the kids were old enough to leave at home. They weren’t having any fun. The kids could care less where they were. Just wait a couple of years. It’s better for everyone. Either that, or families with kids under 5 should have their OWN flights. Please, someone look into this.
I was all set to while away the time watching “Mission Impossible 3”, but the sound in our row was defective. As a consolation, I got a free drink ticket which I redeemed immediately.
We landed in Seattle safe and sound, and I headed to baggage claim one step closer to considering sterilization.
enormous beaux
WEEKEND RECAP
FRIDAY
After packing and a few pre-funk drinks, Brugos and I met Alex at the Capital Hill Block Party to see some bands I’d never heard of. Even though most of the bands that WERE playing were kind of crappy, I’m glad we stuck around for a band that Alex came to see called The Cops. They played last and they were REALLY good. Alex compared them to The Clash, which I didn’t quite see, but they definitely had that classic punk vibe to them and a young John Fogarty on guitar.
SATURDAY
Brugos and I had to get up fairly early to hit the road. We were on our way to Larrabee State Park (just south of Bellingham) for Roxy’s birthday camping. We got a slightly later start than we’d intended on account of me forgetting things, but we still got to the campsite in time for lunch. I’ve never been camping in designated campsite area before. It felt kind of weird driving in, like we were entering a commune or something. We found the Brunswick’s lot and unloaded our gear, and then drove off to find a parking spot. As we drove through what appeared to be a family reunion, a small, dead-eyed blonde child stepped in front of B.’s car. B., naturally, stopped the car and waited for the child to move. The child did not move. He stared at us with an empty face. What was this child’s deal? Was he retarded? Extremely inbred? World-weary? Who knows. B. didn’t honk because he thought that would be rude, but he gestured for the child to get out of the way. The child did not budge. Finally, his older brother ran into the road and carried the child out of the way, and we were able to drive forward. But…if these are our neighbors, I thought, it’s going to be a weird day.
We drove to what we thought was the parking lot, but a sign clearly warned us that all cars parked there after dark would be impounded. We drove back to our lot to ask the Brunswicks where they thought we should park. There were only two parking spaces per lot and they were already occupied. Luckily, the cars were small, and someone was kind enough to move their car over and let us squeeze in.
Our lot was conveniently situated spitting distance from an active train track, and the trains were on a regular schedule. Sleeping would be fun. Our neighbors, apparently, had a predilection for dance music.
We set up the tent and then it was clearly hot dog and Franzia time. After lunch, I finally caught up with the rest of America and learned how to play Texas Hold ‘Em. It was fun and I didn’t entirely suck, but I still have no interest in playing for money.
The sun came out and it seemed like the perfect time for a hike. The hike that Larrabee boasted was a two mile hike to Fragrance Lake. Provided this wasn’t an ironic name, this sounded like an extremely pleasant hike. What the signs neglected to tell us was that this was some miracle lake that resided on the TOP of a MOUNTAIN, after hiking straight up. And sure, perhaps the distance from ground to lake is two miles, but from all the meandering we were doing, we surely went farther than two miles. I’m guessing 4, actually. Now, no one present was particularly sporty and we had all been drinking, so the complaining began early on. For whatever reason, however, we carried on. It became evident to me that the hills were going to be murder on my knees coming back down, but something kept me going as well. Perhaps it was my frustration over being so out of shape (the knees weren’t a problem going up…the lungs were). Perhaps it was that no one else, despite complaints, seemed to want to give up. Perhaps none of us gave up because we kept coming across OLD PEOPLE AND CHILDREN happily passing us on their way down the mountain. Did these people actually complete the hike?
Seemingly an eternity later, we came across a sign that said “Fragrance Lake 1.1 miles”. It was then that we determined we were actually in some kind of REI Hell dimension and we had no choice but to see what this “Fragrance Lake” looked like.
We finally made it to the lake, and it was indeed pretty. We sat down for a bit and watched dogs come and go. Rocko skipped some rocks and eventually went in for a dip. After a rest, we turned back.
The way down was indeed painful for me, but B. was kind enough to escort grandma down the mountain at her own pace. I wonder if doing this kind of thing more often would be better or worse for my knees. All I know is that there were a LOT of old people hiking that thing.
When we returned to camp, we broke out the Apples to Apples and were serenaded by some wood nymphs playing what I swear was “Age of Aquarius” on the pan flute. This was indeed a strange camp site. The others had arrived on Friday and told us that they’d taken an evening stroll to the beach and happened upon a Western Washington University performance of Godspell, which they hilariously crashed during the crucifixion scene. We were hoping that they did a different musical every night.
As we played, a small child lapped the roundabout on his scooter. He did this for an impressive amount of time without getting bored. It became rather maddening for some of us.
Dinner time came and, sadly, two of the party had to return to Seattle. After dinner, we broke out the Totally 80’s Trivial Pursuit and asked each other questions. They questions were disappointingly lacking in kitsch value. This was mostly disappointing, I imagine, because most of us didn’t know the answers.
While we stared at the fire, we were approached by a couple in matching beige outfits. “We noticed that you have an extra car. We are going to need to charge you for that,” they said. B. forked over the $10. “Also, we wanted to point out that it’s quiet hours now. Your neighbors are trying to sleep. We had some reports that you were noisy last night. We don’t know if it was you or that other group, but we would appreciate it if you would watch your noise level tonight.” We, of course, agreed and our camp R.A.s left.
The Brunswicks decided to walk down to the beach again and, perhaps, enjoy some more musical theatre. The rest of us stayed behind and stared at the fire. The Brunswicks returned with no tales to tell, and we all turned in.
Almost immediately after having settled into our tent, it began to rain. The rain didn’t let up the entire night. The trains, thankfully, stopped running after 3am.
SUNDAY
When we woke in the morning, it was still raining. It sounded like it was coming down pretty hard. This is why I put off going to pee. Of course, the rain only made it more difficult to put this off, so eventually B. and I conceded. When we got outside, we found that the tent made it sound worse than it was. Still, it seemed prudent to pack up everything and go into town for breakfast, rather than try and wait out the rain.
B. managed to get a fire going to make some tea, so that we could have the extra energy needed to pack up. Before long, we were on the road to Bellingham for some delicious, dry breakfast.
We went to the Ranch Room in downtown B-Ham. I’d been to this place with the GadZookies during the Projections Film Festival and really enjoyed it. This morning, the service was rather neglectful, and the B-Ham townies were certainly eccentric, but the food was delicious.
Our bellies full, we hit the road back home.
I think this is the last time I want to camp in a heavily populated and designated camping area. Sure, it’s nice to have a toilet and running water nearby, (thought that becomes less convenient after dark, because I would really rather just pee in the woods next to my tent than find my way to the bathroom) but having to deal with weird children, loud trains, dance music, squares and watching your noise level seems counter to the whole spirit of camping to me. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time. But there’s something very freeing about being the only people in at least a mile radius.
After unpacking and getting cleaned up, B. and I finished off Deadwood Season 1 with the Boobergs, followed by 2 games of Settlers of Catan at Brugos’. I played poorly. I’m still getting my bearings in this game and while I certainly find it fun, I haven’t yet mastered all of the rules, making strategy impossible. My theory is that one day it will hit me all at once, and I will henceforth become an unstoppable force.
Here are some pictures from camping!
COMIC-CON 2006 RECAP: PART III
SATURDAY
I didn’t wake up hung over, exactly, but I still felt weird on account of having had nightmares the night before. Faye noticed this, as I was apparently twitching in my sleep. I don’t remember details of the nightmares but they were disturbing enough to keep me in a strange mood for several hours after waking. The world felt a bit surreal for a while. Continue reading
Meme Break
Another wonderful meme from MarkTapioKines!
1. What movie most represents everything you dislike about Hollywood?
Forest Gump. I only recently came to understand that it’s a re-imagining of Being There, as done by people who didn’t get that movie at all. But before I realized that, I despised this movie. I hated its insulting tone that both simplifies and romanticizes the life of a mentally challenged person. I hated the hype surrounding the special effects technology of splicing newsreel footage with new footage to make the film erroneously more important. I hate that actors ALWAYS win awards for playing retarded characters. The characters who aren’t Tom Hanks aren’t likeable people. I hate the clichéd “humor”. I hate that the dialogue was written by Hallmark and basically the whole damned thing was constructed to pander to the fucking Academy. And I hate that it worked.
2. What's the last city you visited for the very first time?
Sequim, WA.
3. Name a trait, physical or non-physical, that you inherited from your mother:
Physical: Skin as white as the snows of Hoth, chub.
Non-Physical: Packratedness. I’d like to think I have a better handle on it than she does though.
4. Name a trait, physical or non-physical, that you inherited from your father:
Physical: Fine, light hair, babyface.
Non-Physical: Sense of humor, OCD.
5. Name something that you love doing, even though you're not good at it:
Singing.
6. Name something that you hate doing, even though you're good at it:
My current day job.
7. What's the lower form of life: a journalist or a standup comic?
I really like stand-up comedy. There is, obviously, a lot of bad comics out there, but I can’t possibly say that Patton Oswalt is, in any way, a low form of life so I will go with journalist.
8. How do you feel about Stanley Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut?
Ridiculous and tedious.
9. Name an item that you keep a large – maybe even unusually large – supply of in your house:
Proactive Solution. I’m in The Club and they keep sending me more bottles before I’ve finished the ones I have. Every once in a while, I tell them to stop altogether and then deplete my supply. And then it starts all over again.
10. How frequently do you have to fill up your car?
N/A.
11. What's your favorite Spielberg movie?
Raiders.
12. What's your favorite Hitchcock movie?
I don’t feel qualified to answer this because I have seen precious few Hitchcock films. (Pathetic, I know). However, I have Strangers on a Train from the library and I will watch it in the next couple of days.
13. What's your favorite REM single?
I’m not a fan of REM at all. That said, I don’t particularly mind “Fall On Me”…And I'm actually not even sure if that's what the song is called!
14. Did you go to a public high school?
No.
15. Have you ever successfully played matchmaker for anybody? (Success need not be measured in the long term.)
I don’t think I can count Faye and Borgia since they purposefully didn’t get together when Elyse and I were trying to get them together. They waited until we had all given up hope. So I suppose not.
16. The average American eats 200 pounds of meat per year. How many pounds of meat – including fish – do you reckon you eat per year?
Less than 1. I can’t say 0 for certain because I reckon that some meat sneaks in there occasionally.
17. If you brought home 50 million after-tax dollars from a lottery win, name three somewhat frivolous things you would spend some of that money on (i.e. not paying off debts or giving money to your friends, family or charities).
-A pinball machine.
-A juke box that plays 45’s (and some 45’s).
-A mini-golf course in my backyard (of the house that I suppose I would first need to buy).
18. If you could remake one movie, which one would you choose?
Since I’m against re-makes on the whole, this is difficult, but going along with Mark’s answer of re-doing a film that shouldn’t have been so disappointing, I’m going to go with The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
19. If you had to live either without a television (meaning you also couldn't watch DVDs – no, not even on your computer) or without the Internet, which would you go without?
I suppose television, since if I chose the internet, I would immediately be cut off from so many people and so much information. I would miss my Whedonverse horribly, however.
20. Finally, what's the nicest thing you've ever done for a friend?
I’m not really sure. I guess you’d have to ask them. I try to do nice things for friends whenever possible and help anyone who is in need, but I always assumed that was really what true friendship was all about.
COMIC-CON 2006 RECAP: PART II
FRIDAY
On our way to the convention center, Dom, Faye and I encountered one of San Diego’s eccentric derelicts. As we waited at a cross walk for the signal to change, an older, unwashed gentleman walked into the middle of the street. There weren’t any cars coming so he wasn’t in any immediate danger, but he noticed us standing on the corner and walked over to us. “So we’re waiting for the light to change, is that the way it works now?” he asked. We said that yes, that was what we were supposed to do. “Back in the Texas days, we could just get on our horse and ride across,” he mused. So apparently this guy is not just a tramp, but some immortal from a parallel Old Western universe wherein San Diego used to be Texas. Fascinating. He then, of course, asked us for money.
Back at the convention center, Faye and I continued our previous game of “Punch Trench Coat.” It never ceases to amaze me how many kids (and adults who should know better) insist on wearing an ill-fitting black trench coat in NINETY DEGREE WEATHER. Of course, “Punch Sensible Outfit” wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun to play.
Faye also came up with a hand gesture to illustrate a phenomenon we had been noticing amongst the geek population. The geek fart all-too-frequently puffed into the atmosphere not unlike that of a time-released air freshener. Unfortunately, the gesture merely serves as an observation, rather than a warning.
The ONE panel we were determined to attend that day was the Battlestar Galactica panel. We knew that this year’s con was much better attended and therefore surmised that such a panel would be quite popular. Therefore, we elected to stay in the room where BSG would be several panels ahead of time and simply move forward toward the stage as people left. It was by enacting this plan that we sat through the Hood of Horror panel and the Superman Through the Ages panel.
Hood of Horror is a new Tales From the Crypt type film staring Snoop Dogg as the Hound of Hell (i.e. the Crypt Keeper), Diamond Dallas Page, Ernie Hudson and a cute guy named Pooch who, for some reason, used expressions from the 40’s. Danny Trejo was supposed to be there too but he wasn’t. Snoop Dogg was apparently stuck in traffic so he answered questions via cell phone. It looks like a renter.
Superman Through the Ages was basically just a celebration of the release of the new Richard Donner director’s cut of Superman II (in my opinion, despite it’s problems for Donner, the best Superman movie). They showed the original opening of the film as well as an alternate scene of Lois figuring out that Clark was Superman and then testing him to save her life. This version was a lot less silly than the theatrical scene wherein she throws herself in the river and screams for 5 minutes. Donner himself was there (to a standing ovation) as well as the original Lois Lane from the TV show, Jimmy Olsen from Supes Returns, and Jimmy Olsen and the brut from Superman II. I’m still not a big fan of the Superman mythos, but I have always enjoyed the Donner movies so I must say the whole thing was pretty exciting. If Terrence Stamp had been there, I might have misplaced my proverbial shit.
Next up was the much anticipated BSG panel. Everyone in the audience was very excited as the introduced Ron Moore, the producer dude and the actors: D'Anna! Gaius! The Old Man! And…well, we were told it was Apollo. But it WASN’T! Imagine my sheer joy when none other than THE CHIEF walked on stage, replacing Jamie Bamber for whatever reason. I HEART the Chief! He was adorable and obviously, unlike his character, the biggest goofball of the group. It was a really entertaining panel. They all seem to have a very good time and, despite Eddie’s persistent comments about how this is the darkest show he has ever been apart of, and his digression about the Bird Flu, it was all very lighthearted. The audience questions weren’t even ALL THAT annoying. Unfortunately, my pictures didn’t come out too well, but you can still make out who’s who. CHIEF!!!
After BSG, we hit the floor to find Ben and Jump Street and happened upon the table wherein Brian Poshen and fellow creators of “The Last Christmas” were signing. I finally was able to buy my copy of the first issue (sold out of every comic book store in Seattle) AND have everyone sign it. They were very friendly and cute and make small talk with us. They also, apparently, sign messages for the ladies but not so for the gents. I love being a girl at Comic Con.
After that we were definitely ready for some food. We went to a pretty tasty Thai restaurant and then back to the con for Pitchin’ Impossible, a supposedly “useful” panel about pitching a cartoon. We had thought that perhaps its usefulness could be translated to pitching feature films. There were two main issues with this panel. One: They specifically stated that it COULDN’T really be translated to pitching a film. Two: Regardless of what medium we wanted to pitch, it still wasn’t all that useful. There was no mention on how to get a pitch meeting. No notion of how to get your foot in the door if you aren’t already in the business. THAT’S what we need to know, people. If they don’t even take our damned phone calls, your advice won’t help us.
The con was done for the day and so we hooked back up with Ben and Jump Street. Earlier in the day, they had received free passes to a sneak preview of Accepted, a new comedy starring the kid from the Mac commercials and the actor who is stealing Ben’s career. Their pass also invited them to a kegger on the lawn in front of the Hilton. We thought that perhaps we could tag team with the passes so that everybody could take advantage of the free beer. Well, my friends, the scam was even EASIER to pull than that. As you went in with your laminate pass, and they checked your I.D., you were given a wrist band to indicate your 21+ status. They did NOT take away the laminate and they only checked the wrist band for re-entry. So Ben and Jump Street came back out and gave us their passes. Then I went in and got a wrist band and Jump Street came back out one more time with the passes to get Faye and Dom in. Soon, we were all enjoying free “beer” (Miller Light) and ice cream bars on the lawn. Since it is now apparent to me that Comic Con won’t help my career, THIS is why I come to these festivals: for the scamming of the free booze.
As the party wound down, we snuck into the Hilton to use their bathroom. It was there that Ben MET Jonah Hill, a nice enough kid with an entourage of cute girls, and took a picture with him.
We weren’t ready to stop drinking, so we walked up the street and went into the first bar we saw that had seats for us. It was a sports bar and despite the host saying that they were expecting a huge crowd, the place was rather empty. We were seated and waited on by a very cute, Tina Majorino-esque waitress who brought us way too many drinks (apart from Dom, of course, who instead enjoyed a cone of chicken).
The place remained pretty empty so our service was top notch. A random guy sat at our table and talked to us for a while. Most of us got drunk. Ben was absolutely hammered. Eventually, we closed our tab and returned to the hotel. I made a phone call and Ben walked around our room in his underwear before we all passed out.
Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!
COMIC-CON 2006 RECAP. PART I
So very tired. Many pictures. A few entertaining stories. As per usual, I will recap in installments. Hopefully I will have the pics uploaded tomorrow.
WEDNESDAY
Everyone took the day off of work but me. I only took a half day in an attempt to preserve my precious few remaining vacation days. The gang (consisting of Faye, Dom and Ben) met me downtown for lunch at Fado before we were to hop on the bus to the airport. Spirits were high. This was particularly exhibited in Ben, who entertained our waiter with his fervor. I had my first drink of the vacation: an Irish Coffee.
The trip to the airport was speedy and uneventful. We got to the gate in record time which was inconsequential because our flight was delayed. Apparently, there was something wrong with the seal on the doors, so they had to RE-seal the entire door and then test the pressure in the cabin to make sure we could all still breathe. While I am grateful that they were so cautious, it’s never pleasant to have a flight delayed two hours. Particularly considering the fact that airport bars aren’t cheap. Regardless, Faye and I each drank two pretty, overpriced fancy drinks and we waited to board.
On the plane, we decided to upkeep our buzz and expected to pay for the drinks (as they’d announced the prices at the beginning of the flight). However, apparently they were giving away free cocktails to make up for the delay. They were keeping this on the D.L., however, so that only we lushes who had planned to order drinks anyway, would discover the freebie.
We landed without incident and, since we planned ahead this year, our hotel was easy for our cab driver to find. We arrived too late to pick up our Comic-Con passes, however (the sole reason for us to arrive on Wednesday, rather than Thursday). It was also too late to get dinner, as everything near us was closed apart from a 7-11. We decided to sup on snacks and cold beverages and return to the hotel to watch a movie on Pay-Per-View. Even though the selection was sparse and poor, we IN NO WAY settled on and completed a viewing of She’s The Man. No sir. Ben, having NOT seen She’s The Man in the theatre, retired to his room to sleep and wait for his roommate, Jump Street (so nicknamed, by me and Faye, because he is training to be a cop), to arrive.
After NOT watching She’s The Man, we fell comfortably asleep in our air-conditioned bliss.
THURSDAY
Ben and Jump Street apparently woke up earlier than us and were ready to head down to the con to catch Ben’s first panel so we agreed to meet them later. Dom, Faye and I had a little more time because the first thing we wanted to see didn’t start until noon. We caffeinated on the way, and then got in line to pick up our passes. The previous year, we were able to wait in the much shorter “professional” line, on account of our film being in the festival. This year, we had to wait in the long line with the people. It was, however, a very efficient system, and we had our passes relatively quickly. We still had some time before our panels, so we wandered the floor for a bit. I read the signing schedule and discovered that Bill Willingham would be signing later in the day. I texted Ben to this effect as, he was currently reading Fables. Ben was apparently nonplussed about it, since he didn’t know who Bill Willingham was. Anywho, Faye and Dom parted ways with me and went off to learn about Writing for the Computer Gaming Industry. I went on my own to the CFQ Movie Preview panel to see some trailers.
The highlight of this for me was a trailer for the new Uwe Boll movie, Dungeon Seige. Of course, the panelists and much of the audience scoffed at the prospect. It baffles me that so many people can appreciate the accidental humor of Showgirls but fail to see the humor in the glorious ineptitude of a Uwe Boll film. The man is, if nothing else, consistent in making a lame, or otherwise uninteresting concept (a boring, obscure video game, for instance) into an incoherent, silly, and occasionally surreal spectacle. How can you not be entertained by that?! In the world of Uwe, Tara Reid is an Anthropologist who can’t even pronounce her own profession! Christian Slater is greasy and uncoordinated, but also an action hero! It’s BRILLIANT! The tradition is most assuredly carried on in Dungeon Siege (the full title of which is actually In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale). It’s difficult to make out any sort of plot from the trailer (if we’re to even assume that there IS a plot), but who need a plot when you have Jason Statham, fresh from some British gangster film, having not changed his look or demeanor one iota, fighting with swords in a far away and long ago land! Are there demons? Just regular corrupt royal types? Who can tell! But I do know that he fights SOMEONE and that Ray Liotta is involved. And also that Burt Reynolds, with his botched Botox face shows up in some sort of kingly garb. Who else is there? Why, Leelee Sobieski. (Remember when people thought she was going to be the next Jodi Foster? Well, now she’s in Uwe Boll movies!), Matthew Lillard (one can only hope he attempts an accent), Claire Forlani, and two actors who are INCAPABLE of saying no to ANY SCRIPT they are given: John Rhys-Davies and Ron Perlman. This is a winning formula if ever there was one. Unfortunately, since the rest of the world doesn’t seem to appreciate Uwe in the way that some of us more enlightened parties do, we may have to wait for video on this one. I was just as excited for BloodRayne, but could not get anyone to drive to Auburn to see it during the 3 days that it was released theatrically. But don’t cry for Uwe. No matter how critically panned he is, or how much money his films lose, he still gets funding to make new movies! This fact makes a believer out of me. Here’s hoping that one day he decides to collaborate with Joe Eszterhas. That pairing would either create the greatest bad film of all time, or else it would either usher in the end of days.
Sorry about that little digression. Uwe has that effect on me. Anyway, after that, it was time to meet everyone for lunch. Ben and Jump Street were finishing up somewhere, so Dom, Faye and I scouted ahead for a destination. As we headed into the Gas Lamp district, we were handed coupons for free appetizers at Rock Bottom Brewery. We looked briefly looked around for alternatives, but ended up at Rock Bottom anyway.
Back at the convention center, Ben, Dom and Jump Street went to the Pinky and the Brain panel, and Faye agreed to wait with me for Bill Willingham. As we entered the DC area, we looked at the name plates on the table and saw that Brian K. Vaughn, the one writer that Faye WANTED to meet, was signing. None of these people were mentioned on the website. Over the course of the next few days, we would learn that pretty much EVERYONE we would want to meet, were, in fact, there. Why they weren’t listed on the website, I have no idea. Perhaps they don’t know they are coming until the last minute? Are we then meant to carry around the books of everyone we would HOPE to run into, in the off chance that they will be there? Luckily, you can buy comics at the Comic-Con )go figure). This helped me because there are still some Fables that I don’t have. Faye, however, already owns the Brian K. Vaughn collection, so she just had him sign a poster for his new, not-yet-released book. We then went to find somewhere that I could buy Fables. On the way back, we passed the SLG (i.e. Goth Comics) booth and saw that Roman Dirge would also be signing later that day. Faye and I quickly bought a Dirge book we didn’t have and then got in line for Willingham. In the meantime, Ben, Dom and Jump Street had given up on Pinky and the Brain (apparently the line was too long), and were wandering the floor. I spotted David Arquette, my one non-panel or signing celeb spotting of the weekend. The previous year, the con had been littered with famous types running hither and thither. Perhaps they were more difficult to spot this year on account of there being TWICE as many con goers. Yipes.
Anyway, Faye and I waited for Willingham. And waited. And waited. An hour later, the line hadn’t moved at all. I peeked around the corner to find out what was causing the hold-up, but my lack of observation skills prevented me from learning anything. Faye went a little later and read the sign that explained everything. Apparently, the artist was drawing sketches for charity. He could pump out one sketch about every twenty minutes. Meanwhile, Willingham’s job of simply signing his name was being impeded by his meticulous artist. With only half an hour left in his signing time, his assistant brought everyone who only wanted a signature to the front of the line. I got my book signed and personalized and was on my way.
Faye had already gotten in line for Dirge. His line was efficient and we were up there in no time. Dirge, being a much simpler fellow, was able to draw Lenore IN my Lenore book and still have us out of there within 10 minutes of lining up. Gotta love those competent Goths.
Faye and I briefly stopped at the Film Threat booth to bother our friend Mark Bell, and then found our fellas. We dropped our heavy new acquisitions off at the hotel, and then wandered out into the world to find some dinner. Of course, by this time, everyone else at the con was also looking for dinner, and places were filling up fast. We became less and less choosy about where we ended up. We finally settled on a Mexican place on a side street. Several expensive, yet delicious drinks later (the mojitos were particularly delicious), our bellies were full, and we rolled ourselves back to the hotel. Ben, Dom and Faye were ready to retire, but Jump Street and I decided to hit the town for a drink or two. We found a nice, quiet sports bar (which was probably only quiet on account of it being Thursday), and had a few drinks whilst discussing comic book movies. The first round was free, since our bartender told us the total and then never came back.
Stay tuned for part II!
everything kool
I’m feeling lazy. My WEEKEND RECAP reflects this.
FRIDAY
Why do I keep going back to Kozak’s when it’s exponentially worse every time? It’s like they’re DARING me to keep coming back. Now the menu is different and a lot less vegetarian friendly. Just TRY to get a waitress to come back to your table more than once.
SATURAY
The Lavender Festival is really just an excuse to get people to drive to Sequim and buy your crappy arts and crafts projects. Regardless, parents love festivals loosely based on seasonal flowers. Brugos’ parents were no exception.
Funniest thing I saw this weekend: The kid who gave in to a sudden impulse to make arm pit farts in the middle of a crowd.
Second funniest thing I saw this weekend: The woman who undoubtedly owns hundreds of cats who made her living selling hilarious and borderline disturbing watercolors of cats and other animals. One painting depicted a fluffy cat with ass facing forward and the caption “See anything you like, or should I walk by again?” Another painting was just of a cat head surrounded by flower pedals. How do you choose between the painting of the hippo with the bedroom eyes or the baby beluga whale whose lips are pursed and ready to give you the blow job of your life?
It takes a long time to get to Sequim and back.
SUNDAY
DDR is my bitch.
The only thing sexier than Rufus Sewell (the English James Spader in terms of hot creepiness), is Rufus Sewell with an Irish accent. This is the only reason I watched most of She Creature.
Pirates would have been fun if it hadn’t sunk under the weight of its own grandiosity. This also would have made it at least an hour shorter and my ass and back would have been the better for it. Kiera Knightly confuses comedic acting with childish flailing. I would like to punch her in her pouty little mouth. That said, the Kraken was pretty cool.
Also cool (much to my surprise) was the Transformers teaser trailer featuring the silhouette of who could only be a live-action Megatron. I am now (perhaps misguidedly) excited for this movie. Only a year away!
EDIT I just looked at the IMDB page for this movie. Dane Cook is in a lead role. I retract my former statement about being excited.
What isn’t cool is getting stranded in Columbia City. EVERYONE left me to go back to the Hill because I was going to the U-District and a bus would be along ANY MINUTE. 30 minutes later, there was still no bus. Several people had come and gone and quite a few ambulances and fire trucks had driven past. It was then that a kindly man with only one or two teeth informed me that the buses weren’t coming because the ones that weren’t involved in the 3-bus accident were stuck behind it. Had I been anywhere close to home or even in a neighborhood I was familiar with, I could have walked to a different bus stop or just walked to my destination. This was not, however, the case. Instead I sucked it up and called a cab. The dispatcher informed me that it would be a 20-minute wait. I stood on the street corner cursing my ill luck as trucks full of scary looking men drove by and honked at me. I was grateful that it was summer and therefore wouldn’t be dark any time soon. Eventually, the cab arrived and whisked me to my destination. Had I not been by myself, it would have been an interesting little adventure.
BBQ and lawn sports quickly helped me put the debacle behind me.
Last night I dreamt of rotten meat and insects.
NEXT WEEKEND: SAN DIEGO COMIC CON!!!! BSG PANEL!!! VERONICA MARS PANEL!!! I’M A HUGE NERD!!!
Effed by the Wind 
