Sep 012006

I always seem to play catch-up on my LJ about a week after the fact, just because I get lazy about writing. Good thing I don’t have deadlines.

Last Saturday morning, after hemming and hawing about it while playing a little CoH, I finally decided I had to get out of the now-empty house. I threw on my new black kilt, a black sleeveless, and boots, and headed up to Holly for the Renaissance Festival’s Highland Fling weekend. I got there late enough that there was no line out the gate, but also had to park out in the hinterlands and walk a good quarter to half mile to the gate. I scouted the three main pubs looking for the Bay City crew and finally found Cyndi, Meredith, and Melissa at the Horse Pub. Cyndi was already two sheets to the wind and preparing to hoist the third. After my second Stout Pecker (Guinness Stout floated on Woodpecker Cider) we had a heart-to-heart about various things, including her recent epiphany about the utter and complete self-absorption of her cousin, and my ex, Jay. We all know he’s like that, and it’s been a joke among us for a long time, but it really hit home for her after she’d called him recently because she was having some serious problems she needed to talk about to someone (they talk a lot). He basically blew her off and launched into a rant about HIS latest drama, which was trivial by comparison (and almost always is). This hurt her pretty bad and really opened her eyes to just how shallow and selfish he really is. I mean, she always knew it, but now she SEES it.

She also read my palms. She’s been studying it for quite awhile now and just passed her police check and got her license, so she can get paid to do it. She recently made $200 doing readings at a small party for some women. She admitted it’s difficult to read for someone you already know because that tends to color your observations, but she read some very interesting things:

— I like to think of myself as very independent, but I’m really not. (True)
— I’m a lot smarter than I allow myself to be. For whatever reason, I hold some of it back. (Also true, and I can clearly remember the exact moment in 5th grade when I started doing that, and why. Damn you Tom Roberts! But that’s another entry.)
— I have a single, solid marriage line. No other relationships for the foreseeable future. However, she was confused by the appearance of a child line, since neither Aaron nor I have or want kids. (I nearly snarfed Stout Pecker through my nose when she said that, but kept my mouth shut. Some of you know why, and I’ll leave it at that.)
— My life line could have been drawn with a Sharpie: very long life, no major illnesses at all. (I said that was good, it meant I’d last long enough to be uploaded to my custom virtual reality. :oP)
— I have a huge amount of creativity, but no writer’s line, so the creativity is in some other form. (I’m sure I could figure out what form that is if I tried. For example, I really enjoyed producing the CD for the music sharing project last year.)

Afterward I rapidly caught up to everyone else’s level of blood alcohol content and spent the afternoon happily drunk, shamelessly scoping the hot guys, and enjoying the attention I seemed to be getting; although some of that was probably just booze and wishful thinking. About 6pm I decided I’d better sober up, so I bought a large diet Coke from the stunningly cute boy at the drink vendor across from the main pub. A bit later I went back (he was gone by then) and told his female coworker (a future fag hag if I’ve ever seen one) to tell him he was about the hottest thing I’d seen all day. She thought that was great and got all giggly. To my surprise she showed up at the pub about a half hour later, wrapped her arm around me, and told me that she couldn’t find him anywhere but he’d be back tomorrow. Would I? I regretfully told her I wouldn’t, but would probably be back before the end of the season.

Ah, the joys of alcohol…

After some serious sobering up, and jumpstarting Cyndi & Kurt’s car, I dragged myself home and put in some serious housecleaning time the next day before Aaron came home from England, speaking British. The rest of the week has been mostly work, gym, gaming, and eating.

And eating.

And eating.



It’s working, cuz my gut is slowly disappearing as the muscles get bigger, but I never thought I’d get so tired of shoving food in my face. As soon as I finish this entry it’s time to eat again, actually. I am SO lucky Aaron loves to cook, and is great at it, and is patient enough to put up with this. The benefits he enjoys from it must be worth it. :oP

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