Listening: a quiet office
I'd rather be: roasting at the beach
Desiring: hmm.. noodle soup I expect

I've had a shitload of sugar in the last two hours so I apologize in advance if this gets a little... wacky.

This weekend was rather abnormal for me, but kinda fun. Jupiter got married and Rabbit came to town for it.

Of course the wedding was in Calabasas, which is a good 30 miles from anywhere useful in LA, and to top it off it was on Friday night at 730pm. So it was a fight to even get there....

Honestly I expected traffic to suck even more than it did, but I'm happy that it didn't. And I'm totally thrilled with my car. Woo! the old Honda had would have had catastrophic overheating issues before we even got to Hollywood, let alone past Sherman Oaks.

The ceremony was short and the site was very lovely (outdoors with a small man-made waterfall for a backdrop). There were maybe 40 to 60 attendees, which after the last two weddings I've gone to, struck me as small. I was worried that my mood would give me issues, and I think anticipating that made it somewhat easier to handle when I did start to get depressed. But it still freaked out my poor Molasses a little bit.

I wasn't crying, just staring off into the distance and generally absent to the conversations around the table we were at. But I kept forgetting to eat which resulted in the boy trying to prod me and asking what's wrong. No one really knows what to say when that happens, we just try get past it.

But Jupiter and his bride were quite lovely and I wish them all the best.

Rabbit had left her Rorrita at home so I wanted to take her out and remind her what being irresponsible is like, but of course she was jet lagged and the rest of us had gotten up rediculously early to make it up there on time (for me that meant 5am). So we let it go and made some plans to get together on Sat. and hang out.

The boys (Molasses and the Squire of Dimness, who was the best man and delivered just about the best best man speech I have ever heard, ever) were going to a garou game on Sat. that the girls Janet and Magenta (not their real names) were running. So Rabbit and I were on our own for finding something entertaining to do.

I got up a little earlier than usual on Sat. and headed to Molasses' to play with the Kodak and Photoshop apps and print out some pics for my parents. I had intended to swing by their house, drop off the pics, pick up some mail and maybe wash my car before meeting up with Rabbit, but of course I ran out of time. She was staying in Torrance with the Cheshire Cat and Rook (not their real names), so I headed west instead of east and hung out with them for an hour or so. I met Orlando the Cat who was freshly clipped and trying not to look self-concious. I felt sorry for him both because he was a long hair hanging out in Southern California and because his owner had seen fit to have his beautiful trimmed. But he did look decidedly like a real Cheshire Cat. He just needed to be more pink. Failing that, though he did look kind of like a lion...with leg warmers.

At any rate I hadn't seen the Cheshire Cat or the Rook in quite a long time so it was good to sit and chat with them for a little while.

Eventually Rabbit and I headed out, first to Jack in the Box for lunch (which I thought she dispised, but apparently I was wrong) and then back to Temple & 7th where we figured out that some of the people Rabbit wanted to see were. As it so happened Agent Orange was hosting a new game that had a lot of Westside people. Rabbit got to say hi to him, the Ice Cream Assassin and Space Dog, and she got to see first hand what I mean by Monstrovision. Truly, it is a thing that must be seen to be believed.

When we left we discerned we wouldn't really have time to swing up by the garou game and make it to the evening plans on time, and anyway most of the people that she wanted to see there either she had already seen or would see again (presumably) on Sun. So we headed to Fullerton where I swapped the pics for mail and dodged questions from my mom on why I wasn't dressed better or my hair done up if I was going out to dinner with friends. I explained some of the neater features of Photoshop to my dad and as soon as I figured out neither my sister nor my neice were home started ushering Rabbit back to the car.

We headed up to Pomona while Rabbit played with her new MP3 player using my cassette adapter. In Pomona we met Chuck and KitKat (who's really, rilly pregnant) and settled in for chili and nickle poker (seven card stud). The chili was decent (and had additives that made it filling like beef and pasta) and that made up for some conversation that was starting to get on my nerves. I understand the tendancy people have to speak about things they have in common with each other and for individuals to remark on roads being travelled that they themselves have already walked down. But I don't like unmitigated know-it-alls and I'm getting really sick about hearing about pregnancy.

Reason #85469 that I'm never having kids is to avoid women telling over and over and fucking over again about what pregnancy is like while I'm fucking pregnant. I don't mind talking about kids...it's almost akin to talking about people you know. But the nattering on about all the misery one goes through and laughing over it even as the poor woman getting nattered AT is going through it... fucking shoot me. I hearby declare my womb a No Children Zone.

Even Kitkat smiled as she explained it's like nine months of PMS. Gah... you breeders are insane.

And of course when it wasn't about pregnancy it was...well a bunch of things, but whatever it was Chuck knew *everything* about it. I have my tendancies to try to explain all the stuff I know, and I know it comes from having parents that are teachers, but I try to stick a sock in it to let other people talk. At least from time to time. Some people have no sense for this, and also have no sense for when they are interrupting someone else in the process of trying to explain what they see before them. Feh. anyway, he's a nice guy, a great cook and generous host so I'll shut up about that.

Because Saturday was so nuts I borrowed Molasses' phone. I was calling people to see if they were available to hang but the only person who actually called to talk to me about hanging and plans and stuff was Molasses. Of course I missed those calls because I'm not used to carrying a phone and I left it in the car several times. So to call him back I had to call the Squire first and ask if he was there. I felt a little bad about that. Everyone operates at this new level of interconnectedness and I'm the only lame one not playing along. I don't really want a cell phone because I appreciate being out and on the road and being unreachable. Of course, it's not like that many people are often just dying to talk to me (in fact few people ever want to talk to me...) so even if I didn't mind the occasional cell phone call I don't think I'd get enough to merit the added expense of a phone.

Well, I've been trying to make life as inconvenient as possible for other people in the hopes that they'd catch on and buy a phone and pay for the service. But they're not playing along and so now I'm considering it for myself.

But I still don't think I can afford it.

So anyway, even with no traffic it took over an hour to drive from Pomona to Torrance, including a gas stop in Fullerton. I dropped off Rabbit at around 2am and barely made it to Molasses' place before passing out around a quarter to three. As it so happened he didn't get in until 630am, but he later explained that it involved some very rude Russian Mafia members and an inconsiderate alien with a transmogrifier weapon. So while I missed him and was thinking about being mad at him, he at least had a good reason for being out so late.

Unfortunately that meant he was in no shape to get up at nine (still a tad early for me on a weekend) and though I was pretty tired I made myself get up and get on out to Torrance. I'm generally happy to help out friends in exchange for getting to hang out with them, and I often offer any help I can in whatever endeavor they need. But when it starts feeling like a chore the whole thing weighs down on me. Rabbit needed to get to Hollywood for lunch with an old co-worker and it was becoming steadily apparent that no one was up for driving her so I offered to do so. I was barely awake on the drive up to the Spaghetti Factory (which Rabbit insists on eating at every time she visits eventhough she knows there is better Italian food to be had) and only started to gain some energy with the food. The former co-worker was very nice and they happily informed me of all of the gossip from Rabbit's former workplace. A little more talk about makeup (which they both sell - the co-worker, Avon, and Rabbit, Mary Kay) than I really wanted to deal with, but it was ok.

When we left it was pretty hot and Rabbit recieved at least a half dozen phone calls about the picnic we were headed to and then another handful of calls from people in PA about...stuff.... Sometimes I wish I were that popular. Then I remember, no I don't.

The Assassin picked out the park and organized most of the proceedings, so it was out near his living place. It was cute and very friendly with lots of people I don't see very often. I was surprised at how hungry I was after SF lunch and munched on a few bits of dead animal flesh and some artery-clogging snacks. Yummy. }:> There were some kites but it wasn't a good day for flying them (though it was tried repeatedly). It was a pretty day, but started to get chilly early and around five I demanded somewhere indoors to move to. We packed up and relocated to the Assassin's apartment (which sorta surprised his roomate). And general hanging ensued until it was time to take Rabbit down to Torrance so she could pack and head back to the airport.

After dropping her off I headed back up the 405 and passed out on the couch for a while until the boys were ready to go.

Molasses and I got dinner at IHOP near my place and then collapsed into bed. We purposefully got up as late we could and still get into work on time.

And thus has my weekend gone. Meditations on friendship and the vagueries of common interest to come later.