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So, Mom did come pick me up. Apparently my e-mail is being temperamental again.
The parents were just back from the family reunion in Ohio, which apparently also included letting them dig through the leftovers from Grandpa's estate auction. They brought me back some groovy hats, and also a pile of old magazines, including some Redbooks from the 1930's, hence new icon. Redbook was basically the classiest of the pulps; Dad and I spent Friday night reading the best bits out loud to each other. I now fangirl Neil Vanderbilt, Jr; Dad found the best investment tips article he'd ever read. Also, the "Complete! In this issue! A 50,000 Word Book-length Novel"s, along with the box of old sf novels they also hauled home (Thanks, Uncle Mike!) are really tempting me to renew my NaNoWriMo membership, even though I failed miserably last year. (I know!![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stellar_dust should sign up too, and we can suffer together!)
Saturday for Dad's birthday we went to Renfest. Since the King married that little black-haired tart, he looks like a whole new man; maybe she'll be good for him after all. Ran intospeakerender and dreamsquirrel, both (like us) in costume. Saw Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew and Heywood's Fair Maid of the West. I now want to watch PotC *just* so I can write crossover fic pairing Elizabeth Swann of the ship Black Pearl and Besse Bridges of the ship Black Swan. As for Shrew, it might be the way they played it or it might be that fanfic has eaten my brain, but my god the Bianca/Baptista subtext . . .
Still in costume, we stopped for dinner, because it was there, at the Sputnik Cafe, a new place on Generals Highway, featuring "Global Fusion Cuisine" and really . . . interesting . . . decor based on spray-paint and corrugated roofing plastic. They (while wearing renfest garb, mind) proceeded to loudly mock the waitress's pink hair, the live music, the roofing plastic, and the fact that the menu offered neither baked potatoes, kung pao chicken, or meatloaf. I proceeded to call them hopelessly bourgeois and behave like an insecure fourteen-year-old embarrassed of her parents. 'Twas fun; we ate outside and could not see what we were eating. I had philipine-style pork, and plantain for the first time. It was yummy. I shall have to try to get Mom to serve fried plantain sometimes . . .
Then I went to church, and did laundry, and hauled a carload of junk which I don't need back to school with me, including lots of CHOCOLATE.
The parents were just back from the family reunion in Ohio, which apparently also included letting them dig through the leftovers from Grandpa's estate auction. They brought me back some groovy hats, and also a pile of old magazines, including some Redbooks from the 1930's, hence new icon. Redbook was basically the classiest of the pulps; Dad and I spent Friday night reading the best bits out loud to each other. I now fangirl Neil Vanderbilt, Jr; Dad found the best investment tips article he'd ever read. Also, the "Complete! In this issue! A 50,000 Word Book-length Novel"s, along with the box of old sf novels they also hauled home (Thanks, Uncle Mike!) are really tempting me to renew my NaNoWriMo membership, even though I failed miserably last year. (I know!
stellar_dust should sign up too, and we can suffer together!)Saturday for Dad's birthday we went to Renfest. Since the King married that little black-haired tart, he looks like a whole new man; maybe she'll be good for him after all. Ran into
speakerender and dreamsquirrel, both (like us) in costume. Saw Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew and Heywood's Fair Maid of the West. I now want to watch PotC *just* so I can write crossover fic pairing Elizabeth Swann of the ship Black Pearl and Besse Bridges of the ship Black Swan. As for Shrew, it might be the way they played it or it might be that fanfic has eaten my brain, but my god the Bianca/Baptista subtext . . .Still in costume, we stopped for dinner, because it was there, at the Sputnik Cafe, a new place on Generals Highway, featuring "Global Fusion Cuisine" and really . . . interesting . . . decor based on spray-paint and corrugated roofing plastic. They (while wearing renfest garb, mind) proceeded to loudly mock the waitress's pink hair, the live music, the roofing plastic, and the fact that the menu offered neither baked potatoes, kung pao chicken, or meatloaf. I proceeded to call them hopelessly bourgeois and behave like an insecure fourteen-year-old embarrassed of her parents. 'Twas fun; we ate outside and could not see what we were eating. I had philipine-style pork, and plantain for the first time. It was yummy. I shall have to try to get Mom to serve fried plantain sometimes . . .
Then I went to church, and did laundry, and hauled a carload of junk which I don't need back to school with me, including lots of CHOCOLATE.
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Uh. What's NaNoWriMo again?
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