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May. 26th, 2003 02:31 pmDespite being a happy-go-lucky white girl, I love blues. Sadly, this isn't what the annual Blues Fest is about. It's about the random people who we randomly connect with. It's about funnel cake, snow cones, roasted corn. It's about running around town in large groups getting sunburned.
Under those standards, this blues fest was (again) a crazy-mad-huge success. It began Saturday morning, as these days do, by waking up blearily on too little sleep* having watermelon for breakfast**, and watching Saturday morning cartoons.
We departed for the music downtown sporting random word tattoos, extolling us to remember that “big brother is thinking dirty thoughts,” “stuff happens randomly,” we must“love today, for tomorrow is lost” and that Kzin is ahead of his time with your girlfriend. Also, plaid pants of exceeding coolness were worn. (Look, if it's summer, we all ought to be wearing plaid pirate pants. You know it's true.)
Some moron with the foresight of a blind gopher scheduled graduation on Saturday, insuring that every person within town limits was going to be drinking.*** Because A_d_ and other random theater people were graduating, Kiddo wanted to play the cymbal part in the national anthem and we were bored, we had determined that we ought to at least make an appearance “uptown” at the cap and gown affair. Dari and Kiddo wished to change into suitable clothing, so the five of us trooped back to chez moi. Of course, once we arrived all hell broke loose.
( Thursday Parade**** )
Other highlights of the weekend:
The Eggbeater. A performance art piece, performed by us, in honor of everything right with the world.
The Sunglasses. The Myster and I both got a pair of yellowish/orange shades that every artist ought to own. Seriously trippy stuff.
The Not Being Sunburned. That was absolutely brilliant.
The Music. As always, really really good.
The Sketchbook. I filled a sketch book and gave it to one of the most amazing, beautiful people I know. He liked it. This may well make my week.
Today, I saw the April-person. She’s doing surprisingly well, which makes me happy. People should be doing well.
*The Myster and I had decided to begin watching Bandits at about one thirty, cutting normal sleeping hours short.
**I have since been informed that watermelon has no nutritional value. I scoff. Summer isn’t about nutritional value, it’s about flavor, and cool crispness exploding in your mouth.
***No one died. This was good. Nine cars were totaled. That's not so good.
****Thursday Parade is a long standing tradition of randomly celebrating Thursday; usually on a Monday, Wednesday or other day that is not Thursday.
Under those standards, this blues fest was (again) a crazy-mad-huge success. It began Saturday morning, as these days do, by waking up blearily on too little sleep* having watermelon for breakfast**, and watching Saturday morning cartoons.
We departed for the music downtown sporting random word tattoos, extolling us to remember that “big brother is thinking dirty thoughts,” “stuff happens randomly,” we must“love today, for tomorrow is lost” and that Kzin is ahead of his time with your girlfriend. Also, plaid pants of exceeding coolness were worn. (Look, if it's summer, we all ought to be wearing plaid pirate pants. You know it's true.)
Some moron with the foresight of a blind gopher scheduled graduation on Saturday, insuring that every person within town limits was going to be drinking.*** Because A_d_ and other random theater people were graduating, Kiddo wanted to play the cymbal part in the national anthem and we were bored, we had determined that we ought to at least make an appearance “uptown” at the cap and gown affair. Dari and Kiddo wished to change into suitable clothing, so the five of us trooped back to chez moi. Of course, once we arrived all hell broke loose.
( Thursday Parade**** )
Other highlights of the weekend:
The Eggbeater. A performance art piece, performed by us, in honor of everything right with the world.
The Sunglasses. The Myster and I both got a pair of yellowish/orange shades that every artist ought to own. Seriously trippy stuff.
The Not Being Sunburned. That was absolutely brilliant.
The Music. As always, really really good.
The Sketchbook. I filled a sketch book and gave it to one of the most amazing, beautiful people I know. He liked it. This may well make my week.
Today, I saw the April-person. She’s doing surprisingly well, which makes me happy. People should be doing well.
*The Myster and I had decided to begin watching Bandits at about one thirty, cutting normal sleeping hours short.
**I have since been informed that watermelon has no nutritional value. I scoff. Summer isn’t about nutritional value, it’s about flavor, and cool crispness exploding in your mouth.
***No one died. This was good. Nine cars were totaled. That's not so good.
****Thursday Parade is a long standing tradition of randomly celebrating Thursday; usually on a Monday, Wednesday or other day that is not Thursday.
