I can't even get mundanity right.
*grin*
On the way to dinner, I figured I'd stop by my comic book store since they been callin' me all week to let me know that my account's a little low.
I was going to head in tommorrow before work, but since I parked right across from it...
...I figured I'd clamber over my gearshift and out my passenger side door and head straight across a busy downtown street.
Well, there may have been a bit more to my climbing out the other side of my car.
It may have had something to do with the UNBELIEVABLY freezing weather gluing my driver's side door shut.
I couldn't close it on my way INTO the car, y'see, so I figured I'd be clever and lock it as I tried to shut it.
Well, once there it wouldn't unlock despite the supertool I keep in glove compartment.
I didn't want to be late, and didn't really feel like panicking before I had some food in me.
So I marched into the store and just as Betty was about to read me the riot act for being so late, she looked up.
Now this is Betty from Astro Comics that we're talking about here.
We're not talking about any regular ol' Betty.
We're talking about the single most terrifying woman in existence, doubly so when you owe her money.
And that's quite a lot coming from the fearless monstre who's current job title (how I sign my name on conference attendance lists) is "fearless geek".
So just as she's about to read me the riot act, she looks up.
And smiles. A big ol', creasing-her-face-in-places-it's-not-supposed-to-be-creased grin.
And says "wow, Gila, I love your hair, how did you get so many shades of purple in it?"
At which point, all the patrons of the store, and the other two people manning the counter remove their trembling hands from their ears and un-duck from the cover they'd taken, and all turn in unison to stare at my head.
I think Paul tried to reach out and touch me to see if I was real or some anime character that my sister is currently convinced I look like.
In any case, there's a new Warren Ellis book out, and it's FREAKY with a capital EVERYTHING.
I got to read a bit over coffee after dinner.
Oh, right, dinner at this new noodle place.
Well, we didn't have any noodles and I had no trouble finding the place since it had apparently replaced the lebanese spot I used to stp at when I picked up my comics.
For a place trussed up like a cheesy quebec diner with a name like "U&Me" in glaring red neon, it had some FUCKING phenomenal thai shrimp completely smothered in coconut flakes.
Is fine shrimp supposed to melt in your mouth like really good steak, or am I losing it?
In any case, it did, all of it. Swiftly.
So swiftly that we grabbed coffee at the cafe next door (on the way to my car which was a block down but did I mention that's FUCKING cold out???) and I got to read a bit.
I also ran into a handful of old pals from The Cirque (the best place in the entire world before it closed, part cafe, part place where they let me study for my exams behind the counter, the place where Clayton and I perfected our own Bridge convention: Imprecision.) and learned that Jaydgren isn't dead, just more pierced.
Then we picked up the boys and found out that part one of the recipe to ruin my suspension is to cram three two-hundred-pound-men in a ten-year-old-car (with a shiny new muffler).
Halfway to the theatre, we sparked up a joint and the remainder of the ride just got weirder.
The normally empty really-huge-over-american-wannabe-theatre parking lot was SO packed that people were getting out and playing fisticuffs over parking spots.
We parked in back, where it was empty.
I was glad I was wearing my running shoes for the run to the door.
Did I mention that it's cold AND FUCKING windy out?
We saw Snatch.
Ze Germans arre not heeer yet.
We drove home.
Somewhere in there we laughed like stoned maniacs.
I dropped off 600 pounds worth of geeks and turned the corner to go home, nearly running over a small balding man hunched over in a very thin black trenchcoat.
"Who the fuck is stupid enough...???"
"I KNOW! MONKEYBOY!!!"
I holler out the window as I throw my suddenly light car into reverse.
Monkeyboy, and his four other gamer friends piled themselves into my car and around my hockey stick.
These guys are younger and skinnier, but there's more of them.
I drive them home, much to their undying, yet very geeky, gratitude.
Then I drive home, not sure whether I should be bemoaning my suspension, beamoaning the fact that since I decided to drop gaming on Thursday I've spent more time with gamers than I have with machines (which would be frightening if it were anyone) or whether I should whoup and cheer that I'd made it through two smoky restaurants in the non-smoking section and seen a kick ass flick and laughed until my belly hurt all the way home.
And got the biggest hug in the world from Marc who said "Hey mama" the way he always does, and grinned shyly at me the way I never noticed he did.
The most impressive man in the world was too tired to go out, and when I dropped him off he kissed me wetly on the cheek and announced that he was glad that he'd come just for me.
*blush*
It was good to see the kids, all eight of them, the first three being my favourite people in the whole world, and the latter five being ones who's lives I'd wondered about.
THe invited me to play a LARP.
Nothing's changed.
Except that the slight discomfort at having lost my only day this weekend to utter slothfullness has utterly dissipated.
And my suspension is happily shot to bits.
:)