Laborious Day

[Still feeling off and on like some random Mack truck snuck up on the Golden Gate Transit bus John and I took from Petaluma this morning and rammed into me. The too-filling breakfast we had after noon didn't help, and even the 45 minute nap directly afterwards has left me feeling only logy and - well, not quite ill, exactly, but I don't think I'll be getting any studying done before Sean comes over and the three of us go to Wet Hot American Summer over at AMC 1000 (A.K.A. the hateful Plastic Fantastic Cinema on Van Ness) this evening. C'mon self, perk up! You don't have to write delirious run-on sentences!]

[Bus ride from Petaluma was in consequence of visiting the parents up in Sonoma yesterday. We (the nuclear family) always try to get together for each of our birthdays, and Dad's was back on August 19th, when they were just getting back from Peru. Fantastic food and photos from the aforementioned Andes-Amazon trip with 'rents, sister, brother-in-law, Grandma, and Annabelle, a woman whose friend-of-the-family status is so ingrained that one of these dinners would feel incomplete without her presence. Grilled beef shortribs marinated in red wine, garlic and thyme. Corn on the cob picked just hours before. My garlicky-seafood-rice salad. John's baked beans casserole (which we both regretted later; maybe Californians can't buy Grandma Brown's brand for a reason, sweetheart.) Annabelle's fruit salad, dolled up in Cointreau. Garlic bread. Kate's guacamole. My family's crazy, I guess (whose isn't?), but lately we seem to be having better and better times together, like we all finally decided to grow up.]

[Neither John nor I slept well, even after not-too-much-but-enough wine and a relaxing interlude in the Damnable Cooz before bed. When visiting, we sleep in the two twin beds my parents have crammed into what used to be my bedroom (their fold-out couch being really uncomfortable), and I awoke early, while John just awoke cranky. Can we attribute his crankiness to the lack of my loving arms around him in the night, and not the baked beans casserole and hard twin bed?]

[To be continued...]

[Wet Hot American Summer was funny. Even if you just remember the late 70's-early 80's teen summer camp movies like Meatballs without having liked them, you'll get a kick out of Janeane Garofalo, David Hyde Pierce, Molly Shannon and Co. The fashions, especially, were dead-on, if not especially shocking: recent forays to the mall reveal that our current retro culture seems to have reached about 1981. Great, boys are dressing just as they did when I first started to become achingly aware of them. Gimme some tanned forearms sticking out of a baseball shirt, some 501's, and some Vans...]

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