Electrolicious

T.C and M were definitely not sleeping last night.

After a delightful anniversary painting pottery on Saturday, and then a rollickingly fun night at the OK Hotel’s “Dialect” club night, and a Sunday spent preparing, our 2001: A Forest Odessey party pretty much rocked the house last night. The alter-egos were ridiculous (Owen as a security guard, TW as a Mary Kay lady, Andreas as a wigger–that one was frightening!–and Megasoul as a chola), the cider was strong and deeeelish (although somehow we only got NINE DOLLARS in donations), and folks were still up at 7:00 when I passed out cold.

Some of the evenings high points included TW with a box of Certs breath mints squeezed between her breasts as she growled “I’m CERTain you will be having a very NICE night,” Andreas pulling out the stops on the disco moves ganked from “Saturday Night Fever,” Megasoul and I howling and vogueing our ways through “Stay Free” (a disco song who’s vocals of “INDEPENDANT!” make the whole song sound like an ad for Stay-Free Maxi-Pads. Ridiculous. It was especially good to see Owen!

Interesting how, when you party on New Years Eve, your first day of the new year (or new millenium) is spent glowering over your hangover, or tip-toeing around your own cracked out body.

And now, a story. The first time I’d ever heard the term “cracked out” was the night I met some friends in San Francisco in August of ‘96. In the haze of 4:30 am and waning a waning collective MDMA glow, a new raver friend looked at me and queried “You’ll be hanging out cracked out with us tomorrow, right?”

“Wait a minute,” I thought to myself, “Do these ravers use CRACK?” The really disturbing thing is that this unanswered question didn’t deter me from hanging out with them the next day, when I discovered that being “cracked out” simply means that you’re burnt out from the last night; hungover from the chemicals imbibed. The day after, I found that kicking it cracked out involved an exceptionally late brunch meal, glazed eyed joint smoking, empty headed badinage (look it up), and (in the case of that particular morning) half-assed making out with dry mouth.

Today, it included the late brunch (4pm at The Urban Onion, which was the only place open), sleeping while Dre and Megasoul and Tim watched movie after movie, and drinking Martinelli’s cider from the bottle. I took too long of a nap, now I’m wide awake while everyone else is sleeping (well, PERHAPS Tim and Megasoul are sleeping… )

Yesterday TW and Dre and I headed up to Seattle–she to visit with friends, he to go record shopping, and me to sit at Teahouse Kuan Yin and catch up on my journal writing. A clarification for those who care: this blog is NOT my journal. Unfortunately, the truly good stuff will never see the light of day online. However, I do print out entries from the blog, tape them into my journal, and then go into further detail where the prying eyes of the web community cannot see. That was what I was doing yesterday at Kuan Yin: taping and writing in my journal. Needed to catch up.

Today Dre and I are celebrating our anniversary.

Do you ever put something somewhere that’s REALLY CLEVER and then realize that it’s so clever that you forgot where it was?

Well, isn’t this little miz thang up early? I like being up at this time…I just have to remember to go to bed a little earlier. >groggy< But I swear, I AM going to go work out this morning. I've got my stretching clothes ON, and just have to tear myself away from the comp to go make it happen.

Today Dre and TW and I are heading up to Seattle to do some final preps for the party Sunday. Gotta get the cider ingrediants, some fabric, and maybe take care of this leg hair problem I've got. Eesh. I'm telling you, if I get this job: Laser Hair Removal! What a weird hippy I am. TW was giving me shit just yesterday for my herbal “Computer De-stress” tea. I don’t understand myself either.

We’re gearing up for our New Years Party, “2001: A Forest Odessey.” Dre and I went over to TW’s last night, and over shots of rum and hand rolled smokes, we all slaved on paper lanterns made my gluing tissue paper to balloons, then popping the balloons after the glue has dried. The plan is the mount the lanterns over a string of large old-fashioned christmas tree lights (60% off at Le Marche De Target!) and then hang the string between the columns of our house which will be covered with cedar boughs making an indoor forest. Hmm…can you picture it?

Dre and I are also musing over our 3 year anniversary plans. We’re spending Saturday at the pottery painting place in downtown Oly, painting flatware for eachother. We can either show it nostalgically to the grandkids on our 50th anniversary, or else throw it dramatically against a wall if we break up. We like having Plan Bs.

THREE YEARS? Can you imagine that? When we met, I was in college, had a dykey hair I’d cut myself, and was working at Entros. He was a drop-out, living in a crackhouse in Ballard, working two jobs and slinging on the side. Crazy shit. Now he’s an health-conscious returning college student, my dreads are down past my shoulders, and college seems like a lifetime (or at least a career!) ago. Mad shit. True love grows with you, I suppose. And this one definitely has.

From The New York Times:
This Dec. 31, Less Is Still Too Much
By SUSAN SAULNY
“Uh, whatever” seems to be the collective response to this year’s passing into the next.

Currently listening to: Bahamadia.

Salon never ceases to amaze me. Here’s an article comparing the depth of CS Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia to the vapidity of L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of Oz. How come British children get all the good shit (Alice in Wonderland, Harry Potter), and us yanks get Barnie, Aunt Em, and Mister Rogers. Well, we did get The Muppets, but then Jim Hensen went and died on my birthday a few years ago (same with Doctor Seuss! Both died on May 16th).

Can I voice again that my dream jobs are to work for either Salon, or the Utne Reader? Maybe some day.

The strangest thing happened last night…I went to bed relatively early (10:30), utterly spent by my slightly bizarre Christmas celebrating (when was the last time YOU ran around high on Christmas night?), and then woke up for no explainable reason at 1:45am, wide awake. I finally decided it was pointless to lay in bed, so I got up and wrote for a couple hours and returned to bed at 4:30. Very strange. Now I’m tired and groggy. Good thing I’m NOT WORKING this week. Grumble.

In other news, read about “Neuticles,” the fake animal testicles, and the man who wants to one for himself. Thanks to Danelope for the story.

For those of you who watch this page carefuly, you may notice that I’ve switched webcounters. I was up to 420 hits (since Nov. 4, 2000) according to Webtracker, but Webtracker sucked–very limited information. I like this new counter much better. Just click on the little zigzaggy icon at the bottom of the left column.