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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


Frick and frack

This past weekend was exhausting and whirlwindy but in a good way.

Too much food, too much wine, too much running around. The only low point was visiting TA’s father, but that’s always the low-point, right? Anytime you visit a homeless-looking unwashed drunk, it’s bound to be a bummer. Seeing TA’s 94 year-old grandmother in a “home” filled with drooly invalids was better—BETTER!—just to give you an idea…

I repeat: drooly invalids + decrepit old ladies muttering to themselves = better than visiting your boyfriend’s not yet 70 year old father.

Ok, moving on: on Friday, we hung out with friends at Frjtz while another friend Dj’d. Closed the place down then headed over to Absinthe for nightcaps. Man, that place is such a first date kind of place! I don’t know how else to describe it. Lots of tentative-looking couples drinking carefully and trying to stay on the good side of the candlelight. When the lights came on at 2 am, I was so surprised! It’s nice when that happens, especially if you’re with really great friends, yammering about complete nonsense and laughing your ass off. Example: one of my friends entertained us with his tale of meeting the Fab Five in Vegas and of scoring major points with all of them until—UNTIL!—he drank so much he was attacked by a posse of Hoochiemamas on the dancefloor and collapsed under a disco ball at Studio 54.

On Saturday we sold the rest of our cds at Amoeba and racked up almost $600’s worth of credit thus ensuring that every single relative and friend will be receiving cds from me as gifts for as long as I live. The grand total, in case you are about to run and grab your calculator, is $1019.15. As stated previously, full retail would have been much more, but isn’t it better to have those 6 cubic feet of free space back?

Yes, I say.

Sat afternoon we hung out with OlderSister and some other friends and had a wonderful picnic at the Ferry Building. Ate some Recchiuti chocolate and was only truly impressed by one. We did eat some Cowgirl cheese that rocked, and of course a pain epi from Acme that was the perfect accompaniment. That evening, a friend of my parents took us to dinner and I ate 4 oysters (the best of which was a Coromandel from New Zealand—it tasted like a bracing dip in the ocean,) a salad and an entire Dungeness crab swimming in a pool of butter+thyme+pepper.

Talk about feeling fat!

By the time Sunday rolled around and we were packed into the car for our drive to Aptos, I was a beaten shell of myself. I was tired and cranky and didn’t want to spend time with TA’s boorish father, listening to him say a two words about the weather, about his stupid orange cat, about his Navy or Stanford days… He says nothing! He doesn’t ask us about what we’re doing, he doesn’t ask about his son’s graduate work, NOTHING! Even my selfish parents feign interest in what’s happening with us. They at least fake it. We even pepper TA’s father with questions, and he either grunts or answers in monosyllables.

The other F-word I don’t like sometimes: family.


3:58 p.m. - 2006-08-01



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