June 30th, 2002

pencil

trousers, coffee spoons, beach. Sign me up.

I'm not allowed to take ibuprofen this week (Friday's surgery) so I'm even more creaky than usual this morning. Tis a pity I squandered my youth on - well, can you "squander" something, technically, if you don't actually do anything with it? Hmm.

I lied, and my braving the Mercury earlier on reconnaissance was all in vain - we went to the Vogue. Sarah is a most loyal patron. We thought about and walked by the Mercury on our way home, but I was social-ed out. Perhaps another time - if she ever comes down on a Friday, say. Club-hopping - ah, I only aspire to such gregariousness. I always feel a bit triumphant merely from managing to pry myself out of the house at all.

I had a decent time, when I wasn't being elbowed in the kidneys by No Sense of Personal Space Woman. Perhaps it was an obscure form of come-on, since no matter where on the dance floor we moved to, she seemed to be there again within half a song. Or maybe there was actually a squad of bob-haired, be-trousered women deployed to surruptitiously whack me periodically in an effort to help me develop some skin. In truth, I suspect it was an outgrowth of the same phenomenon that finds me worked to the back of the room at shows, no matter how close to the front I start out: I have an outsized sense of personal space. At concerts and such, what happens is: I feel crowded and move away from the people next to me, which creates enough space around me for someone with a 'normal' sense of personal space to be comfortable in, so someone worms their way in next to me, at which point I feel crowded and back up, and the cycle repeats. It took *years* of somehow ending up back at the border between 'the crowd' and the rest of the room (where of course I couldn't see a damn thing) even after showing up early enough to start out in the front row, for me to figure this out. Actually, the revelation was sparked by the line about Adam's aura in Good Omens.
pencil

there and back again

That was a fairly entertaining way to spend the morning. I donned my lovely pink triangle shirt that faintheart made for me a while back - thought about wearing it as a dress (it's a little voluminous these days) but decided to go with jeans and boots - then wandered on out to the hill. Stopped by Aurafice for coffee, then wandered up to Broadway and started down toward Volunteer Park, paralleling the parade. I eat my words - they must have started fairly close to on time, though I caught up to the beginning of the parade just about by the time I got to the park. Wandered around the booths for a while - look ma! it's the queer county fair! - narrowly avoiding being briefed, harangued, enrolled, registered and handbilled; got a vegetarian tamale that was lackluster enough to make me think I could construct something just as good myself that I wouldn't have to pick raw deadly nightshade relatives out of. Then I wandered back down the other side of the street, passed the end of the parade at SCCC, hit Aurafice for an Italian soda, and home. A nice walk - the jury's still out on whether I managed to pick up a sunburn. If I did it's minor; I kept to the shade and did the sunscreen thing, but I've got that pale Celtic skin that burns easily. "Look, a stray photon! *sizzle*"

Saw a fair number of people I knew, though not all of them saw me - Ninja Joy! Well, more likely the parade had a number of entries that were pretty distracting. I'm sure there were folks there I didn't see - never did run across rwx and his crew, for example. Some of that was the sheer number of people, some of it was for a fair bit of my stroll I was threading my way through clumps of people and my concentration was elsewhere. I think I like being tiny - all I had to do was keep moving forward, and for the most part I was able to keep moving. The one time I got stuck at all I half-shouted "More through and less fare!" and people actually got moving again. It was cool to be able to slip around people adroitly - I'm not used to that at all. I'm more used to gathering myself in as much as possible and still bumping into folks. It was a nice change, and made the whole horde of people much easier to bear.

Lots of gorgeous people, lots of gorgeous tattoos, lots of leather (of course). Saw someone who looked like C-ko marching in the parade that I'm pretty sure was her; saw someone who looked like Amber Benson marching in the parade that I'm pretty sure wasn't. There were pipers! *swoon* It rained a bit at the end, sporadically. Ran across a booth for the Church of Joy, but they didn't seem interested in turning over the reins. Avoided collecting any trinkets - although I might should have grabbed a pen, since mine went walkabout somewhere along the line.

Now I'm about ready for a nap.
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pencil

random minutia

Learned a cool new word today - glissade. That's the technical term for sliding down a mountain on your ass.

My cat in addition to being able to shed three times her weight in fur daily, has unusual tastes. She likes oatmeal, but only Maple and Brown Sugar flavor from Quaker. She likes fat-free vegetarian bean dip. But her absolute favorite, as far as I can tell, is the Petromalt hairball remedy. Considering #1 above, this is a good thing... except that she would eat the entire tube, if I let her. After I've given her the requisite dose, she spends the next 45 minutes coming back and pestering me for more. And should I be so foolish as to leave the tube where she can get it, she will attempt to chew her way into it. Fortunately this makes a fairly distinctive noise, allowing me to detect and thwart.

I am thoroughly thankful that June is over. In some ways I'd prefer to go on about my business as though it never happened. Start again in neutral, so to speak.

I am now devoid of any non-pigmented ornamentation, preparatory to Friday. It's a little strange - I used to wear a number of rings in and on various places, but as the weight has gone, so have they... Small sacrifice for a Kevlar tummy, though. Heh.
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