WEEKEND RECAP

FRIDAY

The evening kicked off for me when Meep and I hopped on bus downtown to meet B. for dinner. At a loss for where to go, and worried that we wouldn’t be able to get a table later, we opted for a dinner of nachos and veggie dog at Shorty’s. It was stiflingly hot inside but we were in it for the long haul and knew how sought-after our table would become, so we stayed put. For my first drink, I enjoyed the red boozie smoothie. Meep and I followed that with a round of Kamikazes for hearkening purposes. Throughout the night, I didn’t drink the same drink twice, yet somehow, I managed to avoid dire consequences the next day. Highlights of the evening include:

-B. kicking ass in a mini Medieval Madness tournament.
-Me playing some mediocre but fun Lord of the Rings with Elyse and Wade.
-A.B. demanding a piggy back ride from Sherwood
-Sherwood declining to accommodate A.B. for the ride, but accepting a ride from A.B.
-A.B. demonstrating his “fool proof moves” that he uses on the ladies

SATURDAY
After breakfast and TV, I met Meep for a trip to Value Village so that we could buy our costumes for Emolee’s Johnny Depp-themed birthday party that night. I had already bought a costume a few weeks prior, but when I tried it on that morning, I realized that I was going to die of heat stroke if I wore it, so I decided to get something with a slightly more breathable fabric. Meep was in search of a bathrobe so that she could accurately portray Mort Rainey. I needed a pink sweater and pencil skirt for Ed Wood (the only Johnny Depp costume that would allow me to still wear a skirt). Meep and I lunched at the Elysian and then returned to my house to watch Dave Chapelle’s Block Party.

At 8:15, B. picked us up, looking pretty awesome in his Officer Tom Hansen outfit and we were on our way. It can’t imagine what people must have thought of us as a guy in a denim vest, a girl in a bathrobe and another girl in a cheesy wig with a mustache drove to Kenmore in a red Mustang convertible.

We arrived at Emolee’s bar of choice, the Cozy Inn, a small roadside bar off Bothell Way. I haven’t the slightest idea how she even found the place, but walking in, past the crusty bar flies, we began to wonder if we’d been duped. Would anyone be dressed up? Were we about to get our asses kicked? Well, some other people WERE dressed up, but certainly not to the extent that we were. BenDur was in some pirate (but not Captain Jack) garb. Emolee was dressed as a whore from From Hell, hardly a Johnny Depp role. (Hey, I wanted to look pretty too, but I made it work within the theme!)

On my way to the bathroom, a particularly crusty man mumbled something at me that didn’t sound like a compliment. Was a gay bashing in my future? Luckily, I peed without incident and B. and I drank some no frills PBR.

Alas, we had another party to go to, so B. and I took our leave. Meep remained behind.

I had a change of clothes for the second party, but B. and I decided to leave our costumes on for a good story. At the party, it took people a little while to figure out who we were supposed to be (“Tango and Cash?” “Cash and Cash?” “Tootsie?”), but eventually, and with hints, people got it.

For some reason, “Snow Day” came up in conversation, and eventually, it was decided that we should all watch it. A screening was organized and the film was well-received (with the aide of illicit substances, I’m sure). After that, our host set up the DDR. I don’t know what it is about the X-Box DDR, but I always have a much harder time with it. Maybe it’s the system or perhaps it’s the pads, but I rarely score above a D and I certainly never get the As and AAs that I get on my PS2. I’m sure that the illicit substances don’t help either.

After the DDR, it was hot tub time. I began to feel a little weird and recounted everything I’d consumed that day: A reasonably healthy breakfast omelet, a few bites of a far-too-spicy veggie BBQ sandwich, a salad, chai, soda, some organic cheesy poofs, a glass of wine, two PBRs, a Miller Lite, some smoke, two bites of some KFC mac and cheese, and a lump of mashed potatoes. Compounded with the heat of the tub, it’s actually amazing that I was only feeling slightly woogy. That kind of blatant disregard for my stomach is a rare occurrence and I was remembering why. Frankly, I was lucky that I wasn’t recounting my day’s diet in reverse.

Once I got home and had some water, I began to feel better. I’ve been very fortunate with the drinking this summer, experiencing almost no hangovers. I’m not sure what I’m doing differently (if anything), but I am very grateful to my body. I really should be nicer to her.

SUNDAY
In an attempt to reverse some of the debaucherous effects, B. and I began our day with yoga. I know I’ve been lazy about THAT this summer. I’d like to think that I’m more active in other ways in the warm weather, but there’s nothing like the full-body treatment of a good yoga class.

After lunch, B. took off to tend to his car, and I played some awesome new recahd-making DDR by myself. I contemplated doing some housework, but opted against it in favor of time-wasting and laziness.

Then it was time to collect Meep and celebrate her birthday with Mexican food. Those who were in on her big birthday surprise (minus one, Mark T. K. who couldn’t be there for obvious reasons) met at Torreros. We managed to keep her in the dark about the surprise until the last minute. After the grumpy waitress and her staff gave Meep a complimentary birthday shot called “Dog Shit” and we sang happy birthday to her whilst she donned a sombrero, it was present time! The pictures of Meep’s face when she realized that we pitched in to buy her dream camera are priceless. I shall post them this week (along with picture from the Johnny Depp party, et al). Happy Birthday, Meep!

Sadly, I had to take my leave early so that I could say goodbye to a friend who is moving to Alaska. I met him at an art gallery to watch a noise rock band. Their set was mercifully short, for which I was eternally grateful on account of the stifling heat and the fact that I am SO not into noise rock.

After the gig, we had a little PBR picnic on the sidewalk and talked, as we always do, of movies and the means for making them. And then I walked home, passed my elderly and/or vagrant neighbors and was asleep in no time.

July 10, 2006
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: weekend recap . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

WEEKEND RECAP

FRIDAY

After work, I met Meep at the grocery store to purchase provisions and catch the buses to Fremont for Elyse’s birthday party. I made a little bus cocktail for us.

On the bus to downtown, we overheard two crusty, possibly homeless, possibly just hippy types exchanging recipes across the aisle. Apparently, they were all about the “fresh grated parmesan. Not that other shit.” We also saw a teenager holding a bouquet of flowers and inexplicably taking swigs from a bottle of Tabasco sauce. We could not figure out her motivation for doing so. She was alone so it didn’t appear to be peer pressure.

While waiting for the Fremont bus downtown, Meep and I consumed our bus cocktails. The bus to Fremont was less eventful than the bus downtown. We got to Fremont 30 minutes early, so we decided to have a drink at the much lauded Buckaroo Tavern. It was, indeed, a very pleasant experience, full of gentlemanly bikers and big comfortable booths.

We arrived at Elyse’s just in time to test out her karaoke machine, which is one of those self-contained mic units that gives you a grade when you’re done with your song. Early on, Meep set the precedent with a score of 92 that was, to my knowledge, not beaten. Her song was “Alone”, by Heart. Naturally, she did a great job with it. More people showed up and someone had the idea to play suicide karaoke, wherein you let someone else choose your song. I played one round and got a song I had NEVER HEARD in my LIFE. I powered through and made up a melody, but the machine knew, and gave me a mere 27 points for my efforts.

A special mention must be made for the hors de’ oeuvres. Apparently, they were all from Trader Joes. Nonetheless, Elyse did a fabulous job heating up those mini quiches and onion tarts, the memory of which still haunts my taste buds with deliciousness.

Considering that Meep and I were already two drinks in by the time we arrived, and wasted no time opening our bottles of libation, the evening flashed by. Before I knew it, everyone was extremely drunk and it was time to go to Laser Floyd already. Unfortunately, Elyse had to wait for an out of town friend without a cell phone, so she was unable to come with us to the laser show; the activity that SHE had chosen for her birthday. Part of me wondered if this was some sort of prank that Elyse had come up with to entertain herself on her birthday; getting all her friends to go agree to a laser show and then making up a story about an out-of-town friend so that she could stay behind and we could spend our Friday night with high school kids. But since the show actually was pretty neat, I’m sure Elyse would have come if she could.

Still, it was kind of weird to be waiting in line with a group of teenagers right behind us. We began to joke about what laser shows were comprised of in “our day”. The best one was Borgia’s “Hand Puppets and Glen Miller”.

Despite the show being pretty neat, I was still laying on the floor after consuming mass amounts of alcohol, so sleep was inevitable. I think I was only out for a minute or two.

After, we discovered that Meep had left her bag at Elyse’s so we went back for it, finding the birthday girl already snug in her jammies. And for the rest of us, it was most definitely time for bed.

SATURDAY

The morning and afternoon were spent doing very little and enjoying every minute of it. Brugos and I got breakfast at the Wayward café, which is all vegan and very delicious. I must attempt to make those chocolate coconut pancakes on my own.

We talked about walking over to the Fremont Solstice parade but TV and laziness won out.

At 5, I met Sherwood and Dom at Araya (second vegan restaurant of the day! Mark would be so proud.) and we stuffed our faces with scrumptiousness. Then we got in line for the Seattle premier of the Strangers With Candy movie. Meep was supposed to meet us too, but the poor girl was still hurting from the night before. I had no trouble selling her ticket, however, as the movie was apparently the hottest show in town. This would be the only SIFF movie I would see this year. Every year, SIFF gets more and more mainstream. I used to think it was neat that such a big-deal film festival was in my town. But now, why would I pay $3 above regular movie price to wait in long lines for a movie that’s just going to be out in theatres in a few months anyway? I wouldn’t. But I made an exception for Strangers With Candy because 1) it’s a movie I’ve been excited to see for a while and 2) I assumed one or more of the filmmakers would be in attendance.

Turns out it was just ONE filmmaker, Paul Dinello. Still, it was pretty cool to see him introduce the movie. The movie itself was funny. I definitely think that Strangers With Candy works better in a shorter format. As it was, it just felt like one long episode. I didn’t much see the point. But it was in the spirit of the show and still funnier than, say, Nacho Libre probably is.

Afterward there was a Q and A. It started off kind of annoying. It was the usual extreme fan boy questions (“My question is about this thing that you casually mentioned on the season two, disc 1 commentary…”) but eventually someone asked a question that “Amy would know the answer to”, so Paul decided to give Amy a call. She was in New York, working on a book which is why she wasn’t at the screening. It being close to midnight in New York, she was also asleep, but she very graciously answered the question on speaker phone, and also said hello to 700 very excited fans. It was neat.

After Amy hung up, someone in the audience shouted “Call Colbert”. Paul said that he was probably asleep as well, being that he was in North Carolina with his family, but that he would try his cell and we could all leave a voicemail. He put the ringing phone up to the mic and the voicemail kicked in “Hello. This is Steven. I’m not here right now…evidently. So please leave a message.” After the usual 5 minutes of operator instructions, Paul left a quick introduction to why 700 people would about to be cheering into Steven Colbert’s voicemail, and then we all cheered. It was neat.

Next, we parted ways with Dom and then Sherwood and I caught a bus back to the Hill. Sherwood went home and I met Brugos at Neumo’s for the Twilight Singers show.

The first opener was a guy called Jeff Klein, who was in love with his large guitar pedal collection and wouldn’t let us forget it. He also clearly had a tendency to do his hair in the dark. We couldn’t wait for him to get off stage.

The second act wasn’t too bad. They were called After Hours and their sound was all over the map. One minute they sounded like old Afghan Whigs and the next minute they sounded like ELO. It was enjoyable, though.

More enjoyable still was the flabby, middle-aged woman in a tight black outfit who danced like a maniac throughout the Twilight Singers set. The show wasn’t as good at Neumos as it had been in Austin. But it’s hard to top seeing any band you really like in a small, intimate bar, over seeing them in a large, packed club. Plus, I was kind of tired from having done nothing all day. We left during the second encore to beat the crowd and it was off to bed.

SUNDAY

Brugos accompanied me to yoga, which I hadn’t been to in over a month. As a result, I knew it was going to hurt. I was right. I really needed it though. My back, which had been bothering me lately, felt better immediately. It still does. I really mustn’t slack on my yoga.

I briefly considered staying in and trying to finish up organizing my apartment, but decided against it when the opportunity to go to the House of Fun and play Karaoke Revolution presented itself.

Karaoke Revolution is really fun. And it turns out that my fears of it making me feel incredibly untalented were unfounded. I still know I don’t have a pretty voice, but I’m apparently not bad at the game. It helped, I think, that you’re able to create characters that look kind of like you. Like a hyper-sexy version of you. Or, in Brugos’ case, like a version of him in a hilarious tiger suit.

After a while, we worked up an appetite and then got some yummy Indian food, the leftovers of which I plan to consume shortly.

After a feast of Indian food, there’s really nothing for it but more lounging in front of the television. I love a productive weekend!

NEXT WEEKEND: My hovelwarming! Be there, bitches!

June 19, 2006
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: weekend recap . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

WEEKEND RECAP

FRIDAY

I began Friday in typical Amazon-groupie fashion, by meeting Brugos and Andrew at Temple Billiards for a co-worker’s birthday. We had a few drinks, one of which was bought for us by Eugene Mirman’s shorter, less pasty doppelganger. That doesn’t sound like a compliment, but it is.

Three drinks in, we realized we needed to eat something. For some reason, Andrew was in the mood for a cheesy, yuppie family-style atmosphere, so he suggested the Cheesecake Factory. I conceded to this idea, despite my better judgment, because Brugos had a gift card.

Luckily, it being Friday at dinnertime, there were NO seats in the place, including the bar area. A much more desirable plan B was quickly formulated in which we would go to the Honey Hole.

As we walked up the hill to our delicious sandwich destinies, Andrew and Brugos, in typical fashion, pointed out the Hey-O’s. As you can probably deduce, a Hey-O is their word for a hottie. Having hung out with mostly males my whole life, this type of thing doesn’t bother me (even when it appears that there is little criteria involved in designating a Hey-O other than a strong suspicion that they possess a vagina). What DID make me feel a little left out what the fact that I wasn’t seeing ANYONE of the male persuasion to Hey-O for myself. This lead into a discussion about the differences between men and women. It’s true, even in the most lusty of situations, I am somewhat incapable of separating a guy’s looks from what his appearance suggests for his personality. For instance, I will refuse to designate a perfectly handsome individual as a Hey-O if they look like they spend more time in front of the mirror that I do. Or if they look like they would bore me to tears with a dissertation on Godard. Or if they look like they probably have centerfolds from Maxim taped to their bedroom walls. I can’t help it. I can’t JUST think about having sex with them. I have to also think about what it would be like to spend even 5 minutes outside of the carnal act with them. And if I deem that time unpleasant, I am not attracted to them at all. Therefore, for every 50 Hey-O’s that Andrew and Brugos see, I MIGHT find one. And if I took any time to analyze them, they would probably be disqualified.

Case in point, at the Honey Hole, I found a total of two Hey-Os. The first was an indie-shirted fellow in dark glasses drinking alone in the corner of the bar. He had a very sensuous nose. He was eliminated by virtue that he looked kind of sad and therefore probably had a lot of baggage. Andrew disagreed, surmising that he was probably in a band and therefore his attitude was justified and also sexy.

The other Hey-O was a typical Buddy Holly, striped shirt type. His girlfriend looked like a controlling bitch. This didn’t make me feel sorry for him. It made him less hot.

Oh well. At least my vegetarian BLT was delicious.

By this point, we were well on our way to Drunky Town. As we sipped our awful $5 Long Island Iced Tea’s, Andrew began doing lewd things with a napkin and a salt shaker. This was, of course, hilarious. Thank god I had a digital camera on me that took video. In no time, we had crafted the greatest condiment porn ever improvised. I plan to edit it to music and enter it into HUMP. According to their rules and regulations, they HAVE to show every entry. I guess that means I’ll be going to HUMP.

Next, we met up with Derek and a lady friend of Andrew’s at the Satellite. When we showed our condiment porn to them, we were relieved to discover that it actually WAS funny, and not just some juvenile, drunken, in-the-moment thing. Validation!

We saw the angry indie-rock star again, drinking at the bar and then going outside for smokes. Maybe it was the fact that I was drunk, or maybe he really did appear to be in a better mood…but he really was getting hotter. Interesting…

Andrew, Derek and friend then headed to Neumos (perhaps to see our mysterious indie friend perform?) and parted ways with me and Brugos.

SATURDAY

After a nice leisurely morning, Brugos and I headed to Cal Anderson Park (formerly Hobo Park) to join the event known as Urban Golf. Costumes were encouraged, so I wore my most hot-topic golf outfit, which was a yellow plaid dress adorned with chains and black lace. I looked pretty straight compared to everyone else. People went all out. It looked like a rave in the middle of the day. One team had a Borg theme and decked out a golf cart to look like the Borg ship. It was pretty bad-ass.

The organizers had designated 9 “holes” throughout Capital Hill, with a bar at the end of each hole at which to take a break and have a drink. They determined where a hole began and where it ended, and it was up to you to get your foam ball there by any means necessary. People were pretty creative. A lot of people weren’t even using real golf clubs. I saw a lot of hockey sticks (plastic or otherwise), tennis rackets, and even a cricket bat. To make it easy on everyone, the first hole was a straight line down the fairway of the park. The first bar we stopped at was the new bar, Purr where one single overworked bartender had to serve an endless line of freaks. She didn’t look too happy about it either.

The second hole began at the bottom of the Value Village parking lot, and ended on the sidewalk above the wall. Urban golf is all about ingenuity. People were using whatever they could find as tees to launch the stubborn little foam ball into the air. In the end, I just decided to lob the thing over. I got a 3 on that hole and I didn’t even have to destroy an innocent piece of garbage.

Then it was on to the Wild Rose. By this time, people already quite drunk. I was certainly feeling a buzz myself. The Borg team arrived and began “assimilating” people by marking them with…markers.

The rest of the holes would take us through alleys, parking garages and parking lots.
We stopped at the Frittes place, the Comet, Bill’s, and the Kinkora. If nothing else, this event was REALLY good for Capital Hill bars. Every bar we went into was packed. I had to leave right after the Kinkora to catch a ride to Queen Anne for Dom’s party so I didn’t get to finish the game. Before I left, I posed in a bulldozer in front of the fancy-pants condominiums that used to be mine and Dom’s low-rent apartment building. I love a new MySpace Photo.

I don’t know if I would have won the game, but I was doing pretty well when I left so I’d like to think so. I really hope they do this again. I will definitely be in. Maybe with a better costume next time.

I met Faye and Borg and we drove to Dom’s new apartment for the Dompire Housewarming. It was REALLY nice to see “The Empire Strikes Back” uncut and in widescreen. I haven’t seen that version since, well, since it came out in the theatre. Quite a treat. Thank you, Dom! Dom’s place is really nice. I hope we can have many more movie nights there.

After, the movie, things started winding down. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but fall asleep on the couch. Sorry, guys! The old lady needs her rest.

SUNDAY

I began my morning with a little DDR-size. Then I went to Faye’s for brunch and a movie. We watched “Me, You and Everyone We Know” which I’d seen a week before and loved.

The day was too beautiful to waste so we went to Volunteer Park, stopping on the way to get waters, magazines and a $5 child’s badminton set.

We played a mean, only slightly awkward round of netless badminton. I’d like to think we would have both been much better if we hadn’t been playing with mini-rackets and foam shuttlecocks. Amazingly, my arm is still sore today, as if I’d actually been doing something athletic yesterday.

We took a break to drink water and read crappy magazines in the sun. It was also a good day for people watching. Our friends “lurking smoking man” and “shirtless cell phone guy” were in attendance.

After the sun grew cold, we wandered back to 15th. A fortuitous spur-of-the-moment decision led us into the new bar, The Liberty. We selected several vegetarian sushi dishes and ordered a round of fru-fru drinks. (A Lemon Drop for Faye and an Apple Card for myself). It was then that Faye and I noticed the most remarklable thing about The Liberty. It wasn’t their creative drinks or ingenious sushi combinations. It was the staff. For some reason, the nearly empty bar was staffed by no less than 4 people…and they were all HOT. Not magazine hot. Just regular, Saturday night on Capital Hill hot. This came after Faye and I had been lamenting a lack of Hoerauf/Baxter style men to ogle. Apparently, they’ve all just been busy working at The Liberty. “What’s Andrew’s word? Hoo-Ya?” “Hey-O”, I responded. “But Hoo-Ya can be our female equivalent”. Apparently, “Hoo-Ya” is pre-existing Hoerauf family word anyway. I’m glad to be a party of a long-family tradition. There was the beautiful bastard spawn of Scott Grimes and Jason Dohring, the thin bespectacled, sexy geek, the tattooed, understated hottie, and, for the fellas, the fresh-faced natural beauty who wiped down tables. To be fair, these gentlemen were more Faye’s type than mine, but I have always been able to appreciate a Faye Hoo-Ya. There was also a fella working double duty as a Faye and J Hoo-Ya: A boyish face combined with a bit of the tattood scruff. We’re not sure if he worked there; he just sat at the end of the bar reading and talking to the bartenders. But he did seem like he planned on spending a lot of time there. Ladies if you like your men to look like well-combined c-list celebrities or just fun-loving, attractive indie-geeks, get your asses over to the liberty. Also, their sushi was DELICIOUS.

I had planned on actually getting some organizing in my apartment done. Two Apple Carts in changed the plan from “working around the house” to “buying mixers and watching Mr. and Mrs. Smith with Faye”. The movie was, of course, terrible. But it was a great way to wind down an extremely pleasant day.

June 12, 2006
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: weekend recap . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Good afternoon, Mr. President. Sorry I've been away so long. I won't let you down again.

WEEKEND RECAP

FRIDAY

After work, I met Andrew and Brugos at Gameworks, as their company was having a little gathering. I didn’t realize how awesome the Happy Hour there is. ALL drinks and appetizers half price? I found it difficult to argue with a $4 Long Island. So I didn’t. Must remember Gameworks when looking for Happy Hours.

Even though I now live on a bottom floor and can DDR when ‘ere I please, I couldn’t resist playing the arcade version. But not before I watched some CRAZY kid blow everyone away with his skillz. This skinny teenager had his level set to “Methamphetamines”, and his feet were moving so fast that he actually had to hold on to the railing behind him for what I can only imagine was to prevent himself from propelling forward. Not only were his feet moving at an alarming rate, but he was hitting EVERY ARROW in the process. This kid made Green Dress Girl look like a bloody amateur. Incredible. One can’t help but fear for the kid’s love life, however.

Andrew kindly shared with me the spoils of his slot playing, by purchasing me a little plastic army man for the princely sum of 5 tickets. Thanks, Andrew! My army man (Floyd) now resides on my key ring with my bottle opener and my Noel Gallagher key chain.

After lingering too long at Gameworks, Brugos and I were to meet a co-worker of his to hitch a ride to Wenatchee, where we would be white water rafting the next morning. On account of too much Gameworks fun, compounded with Slurpee cocktails, we didn’t get on the road till after 8. The drive up was really cool. It was fairly foggy and the mountains loomed over us with blue majesty as we drove East. We had entertained the notion of camping, but it was dark and raining a bit so we decided that a cheap motel would be the way to go. We naively thought there would be something affordable in Leavenworth. After making one stop, the desk clerk at the Luftwaffle Inn (or whatever), suggested that we would have more luck in Wenatchee proper. So onward we drove, inquiring at a few major motel chains, before settling on the amazing deals at Lyle’s Motel. Our room was sparse, but the price was right, and all we need to do in it was sleep. Brugos and his co-worker went to get a quick beer and I stayed behind to watch Dr. 90210. Apparently, I didn’t miss much. Must not be a big bar culture in Wenatchee, even on a Friday. Or perhaps we weren’t clued in to the hot spots. Meep?

SATURDAY

Woke in time to grab a quick breakfast with the Sweat Pants Mafia (at least I’m assuming that was the reason for so many teenagers about in sweatpants) at Denny’s. Then we headed to the rafting rendezvous point, only slightly late on account of someone’s appointment with the Porcelain President.

We quickly squeezed into our company issued wetsuits and booties (trying hard not to think about how often they wash them in between tours) and hopped on a bus that would take us to the launching site. (Dubious hygiene aside, the wet suits were fun to wear. I felt like I had finally been asked to ride in the Blackbird.)

I was a little nervous at first, whatwith the “we are not responsible if you die” waver I had to sign and the cautious talk from our guide. Soon, however, I realized that this was quite the touristy event and only a moron who doesn’t follow instructions (of whom, I’m sure, there are enough to warrant these types of disclaimers) would fall to peril. It was actually pretty easy to stay in the boat. (I have this on good authority. Because if it were easy to fall out, believe you me, I would have done it). It may be that the rapids themselves were rather mellow during our time out, but I have a feeling that they wouldn’t allow a bunch of first-timers to go out in dangerous conditions, even with the “it’s not our fault” waivers.

Anywho, the trip was awesome, despite me having to pee pretty much the WHOLE time and despite getting totally biffed in the face with a big wave. It was like the end of the log ride stretched over several hours. And I was in the front of the boat, so, like with the log ride, I got drenched. The sun was shining, however, so I stayed warm enough.

After the trip, we were treated to a BBQ lunch (included in the price), shown pictures of our trip (including several of me inhaling water!) and sent on our merry way.

Since the weather in Eastern, Washington was certainly beautiful, and the weather back West was uncertain, we decided to linger in Leavenworth and play a round of mini-golf at the Family Fun Center. Whether it was due to brownies consumed with lunch of a little bit of sunstroke (from a wicked burn on my poor, pasty arms), my game was suffering. Still, I did not come in last place. So even with a handicap or two, mini-golf is still my best sport. (Shut up).

We stopped at a neat little roadside bar called the Booby Trap for a beer, before heading into Seattle around dinner time. Dinner was eaten and then I promptly fell asleep, not waking up again until after 9. Considering Saturday night a loss, I went to bed. Apparently, rafting really takes is out of you. Or maybe it was the mini golf…

SUNDAY

I spent the day organizing my media. It looks much less cluttered in my apartment, but I am still not happy with the overall appearance. Hopefully, I will have something satisfactory by my hovelwarming. However, since it is a Caucasian Squalor party, perhaps having everything neat and organized would be counterintuitive.

Then Brugos and I went to the Central Cinema to catch the last program for the Seattle True Independence Film Festival. I probably wouldn’t have seen anything in the festival were it not for the fact that my friend Danny’s short was playing. Unlike most film festival programs, the shorts were all pretty decent. Danny’s was especially enjoyable. Unbeknownst to me, however, the program contained a feature. LIKE many features in independent film festivals, it should have been a short. A SHORT short. Instead, it was one hour and 16 minutes of silly Jew jokes, pelvic thrusts and references to gay sex (the latter of which seemed to really upset the girl sitting behind us…as every time the notion of a man sucking another man’s penis was presented, she exclaimed “EW!”).

After the movie, Danny and I lamented the fact that such a torturous script could be made with what was CLEARLY a very good budget. (They got the rights to a Hall and Oates song, for god’s sake! That shit ain’t cheap). We lamented loudly, assuming (or at least I was), that since the film was very clearly shot in New York, that the filmmakers would not attend a small Seattle film festival for its screening. Brugos pointed out our mistake in the form of two dudes lurking right behind us. Doh! Oh well. They had to know the truth. And the truth is that Danny and I are resentful assholes who are apparently fellating the wrong penises. (EW!)

Danny was heading to the Rendezvous with his cohorts, but, having only slept 14 hours the previous night; I decided I had better hit the sack.

NEXT WEEKEND: The Dompire Strikes Back!

June 6, 2006
Categories: Dear Diary . Tags: weekend recap . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment