It’s been a busy week. I had something every single night this week…this morning when I came downstairs fully dressed and carrying a bag Treasa was all “You’re going out again?” I seem to be in the middle of a pretty social cycle: I went to bellydance class and to therapy and to a Big Pharma dinner for work and then to a bellydance gig and out to dinner with Mrs. Roboto and I was going to try to do another bellydance thing after that but by the time Mrs. Roboto dropped me off at home and I was within striking distance of my bed I knew that I was done for the week.
Yesterday and today were a lot of fun though. I started my weekend off by going to get a 9 am haircut from KC. That’s how much I love KC. He was a little groggy too (I think his band practice ran late) but he perked up when I mentioned that I’d written an entry about him and that people had asked about him. He wanted to do a Dr. Phil pose for his picture.
KC seems unsure whether to give me Dr. Phil-style advice concerning the troubling nose or the unsettling paleness of my face.
We talked about politics (he’s a lefty) and relationships (he told his girlfriend he wanted to date her when he was in the hospital on a morphine drip) and Seattle neighborhoods (he liked Ballard even though he doesn’t live there) and Thanksgiving (he and his girlfriend are working on the salon and having a potluck) and relationships (he agrees it’s better to stay single rather than get a boyfriend just to have a boyfriend) and I asked him to taper the back a little more and he invited me to his psychedelic funk band gig in a couple of weeks at Mars Bar, to which you best believe I am going, with bells on. Man, I love KC. I like my new hair too, which is very short and sort of makes me look like a boy, inasmuch it is possible for someone with my hips to look like a boy.
After mutual expressions of goodwill with KC it was time to pick up my friend Jen and pick up a sweater at Old Navy and have lunch at Le Pichet and oh, what the hell, go to the aquarium while we were down there. Jen knows a lot about sea creatures and said things like “Ooh, commensal anemones!” and “Radial symmetry is so cool.” She also indulged me by the octopus tank, where I talked for a while to a docent who clearly did not know with whom she was dealing, as she tried to impress us with octopus facts that we both already knew. “Be gentle with her,” Jen whispered, who has a good friend who’s an actual cephalopod expert (instead of just a fancier, like me) and who has been through this sort of thing before. “She doesn’t know who you are.”
Next year’s Halloween costume
The real deal, a big male named Achilles who is soon going to be released back into Puget Sound so he can get on with the hot arm-on-mantle sperm-packet-transfer action.
Chiara hearts octopus.
By the time Jen and I parted (also with mutual expressions of goodwill…it was just that kind of day, I guess) I was pretty tired and needed a nap before heading on to the next activity of the evening, which was to see Laura Viers at The Tractor. This makes, what, three times I’ve gone to gigs at The Tractor this year? Which would be about three times as many gigs I’ve ever been to, by anyone, anywhere, in a single year for the last thirty. I am pretty impressed with myself. I would be a lot more impressed if I hadn’t started yawning at about 9:30 but I sucked it up and liked the show very much…I think I like anyone who sings about mermaids, and I love hanging out with Amy and Erik, who not only introduced me to roller derby but also know all the words to all the songs in Labyrinth. They were all out of pie at Hattie’s Hat but otherwise a perfect night.
This morning I was really excited to sleep late and didn’t wake up until 8:00. I trickled downstairs eventually and walked down to Market Street and made it to the sadly constrained Sunday Market. I still had my camera on me and had been planning to take a picture of pluots for your stone fruit edification…I’m a giver, what can I say…but I was distracted by a distressing lack of Gala apples at the pluot place. They don’t just sell pluots, usually. “WHAT THE HELL?” I asked the pluot girl, with some consternation. I depend on my Gala apples to make up some of the fifteen servings of fruits and vegetables I have been getting lately. “They bought them all,” said the pluot girl, who had clearly been dealing with that question all day. Apparently they’re pressing cider at this fancy restaurant Earth And Ocean and the chef bought up the entire week’s stock of Gala apples, not to mention the Honeycrisps. It looks like a very nice restaurant though…if you go there for 25 For $25 make sure to order one of my apples, okay?
Fortunately for me they had plenty of cupcakes at Cupcake Royale.
I can’t figure out, ludicrously, how to turn the flash off on my new camera
I did figure out how to order a cupcake though so it’s not like the day was ruined.
I just roasted up a yam, some purple cauliflower, and some chickpeas for dinner and am feeling appropriately comfy and toasty. I have just one day of work before I go to Miami for Thanksgiving and to see the Key Girls…so it seems my social cycle will extend for at least another week. I like it like that.