In Which Our Heroine Goes To Fest

12 September 2004

I had not been to a Ren Fest in years, and it had been even longer than that since I went in modern clothes. Last time I went to the Ren Fest, the Minnesota one, was my senior year of college, and I went with a group including some active SCA people. Six college kids in garb. I wanted Jess and Sarah to dress like that all the time, it suited them so well. We had fun. Of the five people I went with, I only keep in touch with one of them now, but I hear tidbits about the others from time to time.

Mostly I associate Fest with the road trip we took up from Omaha, me and Scott and Mike and Kev. It was the summer after Scott's and my freshman year of college. We stayed in St. Pete, because that's where I had the phone book to find places to stay. And because I knew where things were in St. Pete. (Leaving Fest yesterday, I had a stronger urge to head for St. Pete than I have in five years. It's the direction to go from Fest. I do hope to head down there one of these days. Haven't seen my advisor and my old department in too long.) We found Scott a hat on that trip. Lydy and I tried on hats yesterday. Some of the worst ones looked the best on us. It confirmed my suspicion that Lydy is a person to take clothes shopping.

I don't think I have a coherent narrative thread here. You know when you realize that? When you realize that "I like cheese" might as well be your next sentence for all that it follows what you were saying before? I do like cheese. In case you were wondering.

Let me back up and have another go at this: drove down to Fest. Met up with David and Lydy. Did Fest stuff. Met Liz and Sonia and Marc and Spud who is actually not called Spud because they have better sense than to name the baby Spud permanently. Wandered around some more. Went to Nina's (that Russian steakhouse place) for dinner. Listened to funny Russian lounge singer man. Came home and crashed.

This is the difference between a series of events and a plot, I think.

The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric and Discredited Diseases is entertaining me moderately, but I can't help but wonder whether I'd have found it more entertaining if it had actually been a pocket guide -- that is, if there had been less of it. There are few specific entries I can point to as not worthy of inclusion, but the whole thing gets to be a bit much of a muchness. Perhaps it would be better to read an entry or two at a time over the next several months, but that's not really how I read.

Today is a day off from writing for me, so I'm going to do laundry (and do laundry and do laundry...uff da) and some stuff around the house and generally try to make the place a little easier to live in. Sometimes I put things on my desk to force myself to deal with them sooner rather than later (because they will drive me nuts cluttering up my desk like that). Letting them drive me nuts is not the way this is supposed to work.

(Em and Aaron's M&M bag should not count in this category, though. That's just...M&Ms. I'm only in the mood for M&Ms once in a blue moon, but apparently this was that blue moon. So yay for that.)

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