so this weekend is the folsom street fair here in lovely san francisco (google image search at your own perile - or pleasure - i suppose). they shut down 6 or so blocks of folsom street for a humongous bondage festival. originally, i had wanted to go down and walk around for a little bit just to see whats shaking (wow, poor choice of words there), but lindsay had to go into the studio today and i had to apply for a few jobs, so it didnt work out. we did drive adjacent to it earlier today and while in the car i had 2 distinct thoughts:
normally when im forced to swerve in my car, its to avoid a pothole or cat. not a furry on a leash.
i found that almost every person i passed on the street could be one, if not all, of four things: folsom street fest attendee, bona fide crazy person, renaissance fair employee, inquisition victim
so i just got back from a spell in texas. my dad went fishing on lake erie with his brother and cousin, so it was up to me to man the fort. the week+ passed pretty uneventfully. i hung out with my mom alot, cooked some, and saw a few movies (inglorious basterds was nuts. i know im late on this, but i just got back into the country, give me a break). so as my time in texas came to an end, it was once again time to pack up the focus for another cross country drive-stravaganza. i grabbed all the essentials - clothes, cello, 50 year old lamp that looks exactly like that dagger from the shadow, a calder mobile, an gold-rimmed ice bucket, and a few other choice items - and hit the long road to san francisco.
the first day was pretty easy. the 10 hours to albuquerque passed without incident or much change in the scenery. for this trip, i decided to go with something a little less intense for my book on tape selection. john adams by david mcculough was one i meant to read forever ago and never got around to it, so this was a pretty good opportunity to do so. as a result for the next 1 - 6 weeks no matter what situation i am in, i will relate a startlingly pertinent fact about john adams/the american revolution/powdered wigs to everyones assured joy (did you know both john adams AND thomas jefferson died on the same day - july 4th,1826?! me neither!) . i actually really wanted to get infinite jest, but barnes and noble had other plans. i really hope at least half of the 378 dean koontz audiobooks (most of which were narrated by him) they had there were just recording of heavy sighs and slurred profanity. that would at least slightly justify their ubiquity to me.
day 2 saw me from new mexico to las vegas, where i was to meet up with a few buddies from gdb, i band my band had toured with one summer. the drive was fine, if a little hypnotically stark in the desert. after making sure my smoked salmon and manchego were properly chilled with a few buckets of hotel ice, i set out. lunch found me at a favorite little cafe in flagstaff, a town that i always agree with. i got into vegas about 7, where friends were met, burritos were had, combination beer drinks (i.e. black and tan, but tortuously fictional) were made up at the expense of the poor bartender, and beatles rock band was played. while we were at the bar, bryan kept glancing over at a girl who he swore he knew from somewhere. right as we were about to leave, like a lightning bolt, he remembered. she had apparently slept with the majority of his noncompetitive local bowling league (himself excluded). for the rest of the evening i struggled to think of anything dripping with more class than that. i was unsuccessful.
the last day was long and hot and by the end i wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of the car. i finished up john adams mid-day, so i moved onto my second audiobook, lolita as read by jeremy irons. it might have topped the benjamin linus reading of all the kings men for best narration casting, and also was the most cultured pedophilia has ever sounded. so now that im back in san francisco, its back to the job hunt/grad school research/making this apartment feel like i live here. wish me luck all around