fun fun fun
03.22.04 @ 11:37 p.m.
I really do love my friends. Today in Cannon Beach we stood at this rack of postcards and read our astrological/birth signs from half a dozen different cultures at a shop called The Rage. The Chinese one (I'm year of the Dog) talked about loyalty to friends and home. I find it very interesting that almost all of the ones for me said similar sorts of things, which almost makes me want to put some stock in horoscopes and numerology and all that semi-mystical stuff.
But not that much.
The story goes a little something like this: Martha and Amy came to pick me up, stopping to hang out in my kitchen for a short while to talk about various things with my mom and I, including a Family Circus strip about child molesters. I had no idea. This is what happens when I stop getting the newspaper. And I still don't see it because they don't have any online archives that include Sunday strips. It feels very strange to be looking up a comic as hatefully syrupy as the Family Circus. It's like looking up Jack Chick tracts, except those are so ridiculous that they're funny. Kind of. Funnier when they're made fun of, but eh.
Amy sat in the front seat of Martha's car because, she later admitted, she knew she'd have no chance of conversation if she were stuck in the back as Martha and I can very easily get on a roll, conversationally. Which really sucked, because both to and from Cannon Beach, I was stuck barely comprehending the conversation because the music in the car is fucking loud in back so you're part deafened by it and sound just doesn't carry well from the front to the back, and you're basically screwed if you want to converse with others in the car. On the way there it didn't bug me so much, but on the way back I was annoyed.
Once in Cannon Beach, we were essentially aimless. We shopped around a lot because while those who stayed on the Portland side of the coast range enjoyed a bright, bright sunshiny day, the beach was blessed with temperatures in the 50s, overcast skies and a fine mist. Real sun-and-fun weather. Seriously, we didn't even look at the ocean until right before we were about to leave, and only because I remembered we didn't while we were drying our hands at the single air dryer in the public restroom after our pre-moderate-drive-bathroom-break. So we walked up to where the sidewalk meets the beach, had a look at the ocean to make sure it was still there, and went to the car.
But I'm getting horribly out of order. Shopping - check. After that was the traditional trip to Ecola Seafood (Ecola being the name of the region) where I (very traditionally) only ordered fries because I fucking hate seafood. In all seriousness, it is my love for my friends that makes me walk through that door, because I hate the smell of it, too. Well, Ecola Seafood isn't that bad, but it's the only seafood restaurant I can think of that I would willingly enter. After coloring in the coloring books for a little while (huge, phonebook sized Spiderman and Raggedy Ann(e?) coloring books), we ate and then I busted out our copy of the story again. In it, we went to Cannon Beach (naturally) and met a man named Lucas. Three things about Lucas: 1. He is so named because Days of Our Lives was on the restaurant's TV and Martha said "Oh, Lucas," about a character she apparently recognized. 2. He is physically based on a guy in the seafood restaurant who was abandoned by his friend in favor of a cigarette break. 3. His hair was artfully messy in such a way that he was declared "The lost member of Jet" and labelled as such in the story. Story Lucas ran a leather store so I could mock the way Martha had gone into the actual leather store not long before and stuck her face in the rack of coats to smell them, which was incredibly funny. Story Lucas became a nice, shy, aw-shucks kind of guy easily manipulated by three girls who quickly seem to be becoming Fallon-esque sexy superspies. I illustrated our copy of the book with a Chinese dragon lightswitch plate that we saw at the Rage and decided was perfect for Ena and Oliver's Opium Den and an outrageous heavy metal zippo lighter we'd seen at Saturday Market, which will eventually be used by me in some important scene. After lingering in the restaurant, we noticed it was getting crowded and decided to move on to the coffee shop.
Amy wrote for a while and Martha and I played possibly the fastest game of chess I've ever played. (I won.) We sat around writing for quite some time while flipping through a People Magazine book about the Seventies that was falling apart. Once we left the coffee shop, pretty much everything in town was closed, so we decided to leave.
It kind of sucks that my parents had a delicious dinner without me and had only just put the leftovers away moments before I got home. They were still kind of warm when I pulled them out of the fridge. I ate insane amounts of turkey.
I look forward to doing absolutely fuck-all tomorrow. That is what vacation is all about.
[Title: Beach Boys.]
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
