I’m sorry. Was that (were those) too many parentheses?
I wasn’t going to write about this, because I was trying to play it all cool and stuff, but first of all, I’m not cool and even if I were, a girl has to geek out sometimes, so this is one of those times. One of the best moments of my life thus far (other than the time about 10 years ago when my friend, Chad, was dropping me off at the airport curb and opened all his doors, blasting “Total Eclipse of the Heart” at top volume, while we unloaded my suitcases and said Goodbye) happened yesterday: I met and hugged The Bloggess and she called me her new best friend. The latter was because I had given her this brown paper bag-wrapped tube and she asked what it was, so I said “tequila,” because that’s what it was. Later on Twitter she said that she had finished the Listen to Your Mother symposium, which is where I met her, and that it had gone well and that some sweet women (somehow I got pluralized into more than one girl) gave her what she thought was an umbrella and then turned out to be tequila, which was a happy mistake, and then because people were clearly asking her how on earth she could have confused the two, she posted a picture of the tequila all wrapped up in its brown bag with a handle on top and the funny wooden cap poking out, and she gave credit to my Twitter handle for giving it to her.
But before all that happened, Hils (that’s what I call my sister) and I walked down to Fiesta Park to see some dragon boat racing at the festival that was going on but there was also a regular crew meet going on with (moderately) boring old rowboats, which I was only vaguely able to document, because I had forgotten that the lens I took with me is not really working right now, as you can see:
Anyhow, we only actually saw one and a half dragon boat heats, because of said (moderately) boring rowboats, and then I had to take my shirt off right there in front of everyone and scrub it clean in Town Lake, because a bird (or maybe a pterodactyl) had shat on me, and then, while I was all shirtless and hunched and wild-savage-like, I also had to scrub some unidentified white paste (it was caulk; right? tell me it was caulk) off my hands, because around the same time as the incident with the bird (or pterodactyl), I had had to pee and so I had gone into the park facility, thinking it would be better than a port-a-john, but then there was no toilet paper, nor any running water, for that matter, but the sink was all wet, so clearly someone before me had managed to get a few drops out of the faucet, which was missing its hardware, but I must have figured I had some Hulk powers or something, because I started manhandling the exposed valve and then all I got was some gross white shit on my knuckles, from where they brushed the backsplash, so when I came out of the bathroom, I was making this face and muttering about how disturbing that whole experience had been and that was when my sister noticed the large amount of bird (or pterodactyl) feces on my shoulder, and she thought I had been seriously violated in the bathroom. But I hadn’t. Or had I?
And this is where I should make absolutely clear that before I went to said symposium where The Bloggess hugged me, I went home and got cleaned up.
After said symposium and after Chris (my brother-in-law) and Hils and I took care of our food needs, we went home and fell asleep. And then Hils and I put on the shortest shorts and most inappropriate-for-public tops that we own and wearing flip flops, operating under the pseudonyms Charlene and Darlene, we shuffled out to the curb, where we continued where we had left off the day before, trying to get Roxanne presentable enough to sell, which more or less entails replacing some siding that got ripped off in the crash landing, as well as removing my URL from the front and back of the vehicle.
And did I mention that I’ve found my replacement wheels? But they are in Atlanta, so I have to fly back to the Georgia Vortex in about a week and a half to fetch them. Name (and gender) pending.