As you might imagine, not every day was a pioneer-hike-survival-experience or a Pike's Place day. We were all pretty broke at this point and Adam's house was 40 min from downtown Seattle, so we chose not to go to the city every day.
So what did we do between adventures? I'll tell you.
Nothing.
Okay, not nothing.
But I will confess that the in-between days weren't as productive as they could've been.
A lot of sleeping during the day and staying up till 3 a.m. happened.
Typical.
A lot of Mario Cart/other Mario videogames happened. The dudes got pretty good at winning cars or whatever your goal is in that game. I didn't play. I'm pretty sure I've never played Mario Cart in my life. They half-heartedly invited me to play, but I am too competitive (and unskilled) and thus I chose to stay away. What this actually means is that I would've wound up throwing the controller.
This. Hours.
It's going to take courage for me to say this: South Park happened, too. After a decade of vehement protests against South Park and refusal to even consider viewing the show (which, I believe, stems from my disdain for the super immature boys in elementary school who quoted it with religious fervor), I have been converted to the irreverent humor and poop jokes. I laughed harder at the Creme Fraiche episode than either of the guys.
"Wow. Good job. You are amazing. You are very attractive and interesting."
Ahaha.
Sorry, mom. Sorry, self. Sorry, Lara Ingalls Wilder. Sorry, Babysitters Club books/only friends in third grade. I failed all of us.
I watched wholesome/quirky/cute Korean comedies to make up for the filth. That evens things, out right?
I would highly, highly recommend both I'm a Cyborg but That's OK and Castaway on the Moon. In fact, I'm probably rewatching I'm a Cyborg but That's OK tonight.
This film is so beautiful.
Please, Netflix it and rejuvenate your faith in mankind.
Some reading, some writing, and some editing happened. I had one extremely productive day in a cafe with a greek name/theme that I can't currently remember. Zola's? Anyway, I wrote, read, and edited. Man, I forgot how much I love killing my babies. I totally reworked a poem that really needed some tender loving care. I wished I had been working that hard on all of our down days. Productivity is so satisfying.
Some animal-lovin' happened.
Awww Bella.
Bella's bald head/fluffy neck combo reminds me of this scene
in that childhood classic, Jurassic Park.
She is not nearly as terrifying.
During this down-time, I tried to make friends with Adam's tantalizingly allusive cats.
Cat. You might think you're safe up there with your glowy eyes,
but I will find you and pet you.
I will always find you.
Usually I would not be terribly inclined to post pictures of me that are....shall we say not flattering...but
BLAMMO.
This picture is too hilarious not to share.
Look at those crazy eyes.
Look how mad that cat is.
Crazy eyes are not new to the Jeannette photo archive.
Catching a frog in the wild.
Which leads us to this:
Conclusion: I am Liz Lemon.
Oh yeah, and Thanksgiving happened. I didn't take any pictures. We spent time with Adam's family, ate delicious food, played Killer bunnies, and played with the nieces. Funzies.
This is the kinda scary doll in my room.
Eating Teriyaki...again.
No complaints.
T'was delicious.
I should mention that we went to a haiku slam and a regular slam somewhere in this life-stew. Both were very fun. The haiku slam was pretty much actually a dirty jokes slam. Awesome.
We enjoyed watching Brian S. Ellis perform that night. Delightful. Delightful. Totally worth the $5
cover.
I wasn't sold on him the first time I watched him on youtube a year or so ago, but I grooved to his words when I saw him live. He converted me. Although Garrett and I disagreed about how well his performance worked for him, I appreciated the power with which he spoke. I love it when a poet can make me quake in my boots a little; make me feel like we're making eye-contact although I know he can't see me with those stage lights all up in his eyeballs.
Please tune your soul to his words with me.
Be converted sooner than me.
Your life will be improved.
We also had the wonderful privilege of hearing the words of the tasty tasty Robyn Bateman. She was the feature poet Nov 29th. Here's someone else's video footage of her poem "Rose City Bowlers" from that fantastic evening.
She is fantastic.
Her writing is not tame enough for me to recommend my mother (uh, what modern poetry IS?), so beware of that if you look her up on youtube. But her poetry really rocked my socks, and if you want to take a wild ride, check out her work.
Here's a savory sampling from her poem "Ours Noir":
Let's pretend to be strangers!
I'll take that skanky red couch, wrap my heavy little legs around cushions.
You come in, smoke a cigarette.
Call me Cherry.
Call me Buttercup.
Let that smoke drip from your mouth like you're some kind'a Bogart.
I'll appreciate that.
gah. shexy shexy. Yet funny and relatable and real.
I can't find her blog or anything else to link for ya'll. If/when I do, you shall know about it.
In conclusion:
lazy days. poetry. love.
I have nothing more to say.
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