beyond the sea
12.29.03 @ 8:31 p.m.
It's been a Martha intensive pair of days, AND I'm going sledding with her and a whole passle of other people tomorrow. (Passle is a word people don't get to use enough outside of westerns.)
I got up early this morning anticipating a call from Andrew, who is the planner of our group, but when I picked up the phone at 10:30, it was my brother, who made much small talk about Star Wars collectibles, mostly bemoaning the loss of all his. Somehow he thought I had some vintage stuff, which I don't. Just new things, a shoebox full of action figures. A scale rancor beast (my dad bought it on clearance one Christmas). Things like that.
It ended up being Martha who called and Martha who came to pick me up. We went to see Big Fish downtown, because it's only playing in about three theaters in all of Portland. We missed the first show, where we were supposed to meet Andrew, because the MAX takes for ever when you come all the way from a Hillsboro stop. A creepy stranger listened to our conversation on the train and laughed, showing that he was mising a tooth. Another man nicely held the door to Pioneer Place Mall open and made small talk about the weather (good god, it's COLD.) We never met up with Andrew, especially considering we went to a movie 45 minutes later than the one we were aiming for.
It was a good movie, very sad at the end. It took most of my will power not to cry at the end, because I didn't want to be crying if Martha wasn't going to, but she talked about how sad it was when it ended. She remarked on the way sniffles filled the theater in quiet moments at the end. I'm not totally fond of of Ewan McGregor's attempts at a southern accent. It's like he just learned how to do it and doesn't want to do anything else. (See also: Down With Love) It's maybe not as good a movie as I hoped, but it was enjoyable.
Last night a large group assembled at the Beaverton 24 Hour Starbucks. Nordic Ski Lodge Guy was there (sitting right behind us, in fact), to our delight, as well as Devon (who is creepy and patted my head within minutes of our first meeting, engendering my intense dislike) and the transvestite we always see. We stayed for not quite four hours, talking (well, more like shouting as the music was loud and we all talk over one another) and playing various games. None of our usual games were brought along, though. There was a MadLibs game that seemed based on Boggle, a matching game being played down at the other end of the tables we staked out, and Allayne read questions out of a book I got as a Christmas/birthday gift from Moni. It's called The Little Book of Stupid Questions and is full of things like "Would you rather bathe every day for a week and not change your clothes, or wear clean clothes every day without bathing?" and the like. "If you could have a one night stand with one of five celebrities, what five would you choose?" Martha and I designed the covers of the three Unusual Fornication albums. Martha's title for our third album is "Triple Penis Trail" and I think it's the result of a Scrabble game with her aunt. There were probably fantastic things said but I didn't quote anyone.
Oh my. I'm watching PBS and there was just an ad (of sorts) for PBS programming ("Be more passionate") that had a cello player TOWNSHENDING his instrument.
Oh, and in checking my email tonight, I found an odd one in my junk mail folder. It was an invitation, "One of your friends has set you up on a BLIND DATE!" it enthusiastically proclaimed. "Click here to accept!" Um, no. I don't know who it was from but I am slightly alarmed by it. I looked at the site it was from which claims not to spam people, which alarms me more. Of course, it's from Christmas Eve, so it might not work anymore, but I still don't really want to find out what's going on there. Perhaps I'm over cautious, but what the hell. Anonymous blind date offers are just calculated to inflame my overactive paranoia.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
