Yes, hello.
This weekend was a mite bit crazy. I’m trying to remember it all. Usually I remember events by putting them on my Yahoo calendar, but when I’m too hurried to put them on there in the first place, it’s a problem. So in general, I’ve been getting up too early. True, I get a hell of a lot more done. Sometimes it’s almost too much, though, because I tend to stay up late as well. Anyway, I got up early Saturday and was at Lake Calhoun by 7am. I wanted to walk 6 miles, but I was tired and decaffeinated, so I did three and called Bertine to go to brunch. Which isn’t really brunch at all when it’s at 8:30, but you know. Technicalities. We ate oatmeal and went over to the Pride festivities in Loring Park. It was too early for anyone to be festive yet, so we decided to hang out at the farmer’s market for a while first. I love the farmer’s market, as little as it has to do with farmers anymore. I mosty love the Indian jewelry and Asian clothes and little tiny Buddhist statues that you want to walk around clutching in the palm of your hand. Also, the fact that it’s a sunny morning and you’re pushing your way through a crowd of mostly-friendly people. It’s good fun. After that, we made it to Pride, which was much better than previous years. We shopped and talked and signed about a hundred petitions. A girl told us we were the friendliest people she’d met that day. We emerged covered in stickers, mardi gras beads, and temporary tattoos, sporting bags full of swag and more free condoms and lube than two people could use in an entire lifetime. For the rest of the day, people were wishing me happy pride all over the place. It was one of those times I’m really glad to live in a place like this, and not, say, Mississippi or Afghanistan. I went to check out the overhyped 3day expo, had one conversation about walking socks, and left. I went home and felt like crap, due to getting too much sun too quickly after having that horrible reaction to the sunburn a couple weeks ago. I passed out and drooled on my pillow for an hour, then got up. I went with Heather to walk around Lake Harriet with the dog. G was being a complete asshole the whole way, intent on clipping my heels in such a way that I would fall down. Back home, our internet connection had gone missing. I called tech support and got talked down to just long enough for me to tell the fucker off and get transferred to level 2 tech support, who was much, much friendlier and actually helpful. Unfortunately, internet tech support does not function in internet time. Roadrunner dude will be at our house on Wednesday afternoon; at that time, I will be at martial arts class punching a bag instead of him. Lucky. We tried to go see Fahrenheit 9/11 at the Lagoon; we got there at 5 and the shows were sold out until 10pm. They were running every half-hour. I guess it’s awesome it’s getting such a turnout. So I did nothing Saturday night except have dinner, knit, and pass out on the couch, feeling sick. At 11:30, I dragged my ass to my room and continued more of the same. Sunday morning, I got up too damn early again and had to occupy myself until it was an acceptable time to make phone calls. I picked up the Sexiest Man Alive, and we went to brunch at Triple Rock, home of the breakfast item known as the Mother Trucker, servers with face-tattoos, and the early-80s-heavy-metal jukebox. I had a tofu scrambler and braved the women’s room twice (‘live fast, die punk’). Then we headed to Galyan’s, which is quietly nestled between the towering ugly monstrosity of the Best Buy headquarters, and those shitty apartments we lived in for a year until one of the maintenance men broke in and stole all our stuff. Anyway! We were gun-shopping. OK, air rifle shopping, but gun shopping sounds better. We looked at the guns a little bit, but were driven away in disgust by the guy in the canoe-print polo shirt and slicked-back hair (and somewhat by his coworker, ‘guy who cannot make eye contact with women’). We headed over to Hiawatha Avenue and parked because there was something critically important to be done: we had to ride the train. See, they just got the light rail transit up and running here in Minneapolis. Most of us think it’s dumb, because this isn’t a commuter city, especially since most people here are somewhat afraid of being in close quarters with other humans, lest they have to interact. But still, it was new and we’d been laughing at their website for a good year now, so we had to do it. And it was free for the grand opening. The train headed downtown was packed. We rode to the end of the line in the Warehouse District, conveniently located a block away from Luce. On the way, we rode right through the middle of the Pride parade, so we stood at the doors and did our parade wave at all the funny people. They didn’t seem to care much. We hopped out and back on and rode back to our stop. It took about an hour altogether, and was enough to last a lifetime. But here’s a picture to commemorate the event. Also, dare I mention that the Sexiest Man Alive has a website now? Go ahead, download some of them there mp3s. But not too many, or I’ll bill you for my overages. That’s right. We were also going to get about some artist-designed minigolf at the Walker, but it was raining. So I went home, worked on his website for a bit, then went to the gym because I figured walking was out. When I left the Y, though, it was perfect outside, so I went and walked anyway. And the folks, they were happy to be at the lake. So was I. I rushed home, finished the site, fended off my mom and her ‘why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?’ assault, and then joined las chicas (bertine serinia becki antoinette) (yes, I did just do that for the linking amusement) up at Elsie’s for some of the cosmic bowling. Did you ever wish more activities were cosmic? I sure do. Cosmically yours,Jenni