Quickest recap for Saturday and Sunday: Adore lives up to her name, finding new ways to rub a friend's nose in a past mistake is the zenith of cool, Portland can suck my white ass, driving when you're so tired that your eyes keep blurring the oncoming headlights is fun, and Michel Gagne is a wonderfully quirky artist.
Longest recap for same: After the oddly fun, yet often mediocre events in and around SG Burlesque: Seattle, we decided to mount an expedition to Portland to view the last show of the tour. Many of the usual suspects--Adore, DreamMaker, MrDeity, Roxy, Vikprez--were on the original itinerary. MisterSatan bagged on the trip because he's a big fucking pussy. I still love you, MisterSatan. We also had a small but scrappy contingent of Canadians--Fenris23 (who obviously shares my love for the great wolf), angelvanilla, topbanana66, and the-man-whose-name-I-never-got-and-I-now-think-of-as-the-Mystery-Canadian.
Even though I was twenty miles out of Seattle when I called Vikprez and he was leaving at the same time as me from a much shorter drive, I made it to the Canadians' hotel long before his contingent, so we watched some Papillion on cable. Muzencab called me, and we started trying to coordinate him meeting us for lunch. Eventually, most of the rest of the Seattleites appeared, and we headed off to Pike Place Market. Given my elite traffic skills, it's little wonder that I beat the group by a good ten minutes to the giant bronze piggy bank, but I still had horrible flashes of being ditched.
Predictably, we started urging Adore to ride the pig, and just as predictably, she agreed. We snapped a few pictures of her and various members of the group on and around the pig.
Then it was downstairs for a visit to Golden Age Collectibles. Adore was in heaven, and we learned a deep, dark secret about her. Various of the group loaded up on their favorite comics, and we were well satisfied to have a nice leisurely lunch at the Pike Brewery--here I must interject that the crispy onion burger is faboo.
This was to be the last of the non-trying moments for a while.
After our late lunch, we realized that we had no idea how to get any of the places we were conceptually supposed to meet up. We ventured to an internet caf in Capitol Hill to rectify this. However, such a simple need turned into a dragged-out hour of people checking the site and getting overly dramatic about where the Seattle people were going to stay in Portland--let's just say the planning was lacking for the whole night and not belabor the point. While waiting outside, we saw one of the other members walk up and down the street several times with a small Sears TV. That was mildly surreal.
Eventually, I took the helm and got some maps printed--albeit one too few, but we managed. Then we were off--about an hour later than we planned. My enthusiasm was already flagging.
MisterSatan rode with me to Tacoma, and I picked Muzencab up in Federal Way. I then managed to escape Tacoma without encountering any of the famed bears. After that, it was Muzencab, me, and the road for the next two hours. During this time, Muzencab called half the Safeways in southwestern Washington trying to find late tickets to the show. After some near stunt driving work on some deserted highway north of Portland, we found out that there were no tickets to be had anywhere other than Dante's. Given all my side-trips, it's amazing that I made it to Madam Butterflys not long after the other three vehicles.
We had some passable Japanese food at the restaurant and met Ryan who was even prettier in person than in her pictures--amazing, I know. Muzencab left in search of tickets, and I realized that unused was at the bar. A plan began to percolate in my head.
When Muzencab returned, I saw him and unused standing near each other. I got DreamMaker's attention and had him introduce the two of them. They didn't see the setup, but everyone at the table was waiting for payoff. Finally, I broke in and asked Muzencab if unused was still the hottest woman on the site, and everyone got a good giggle out of the triple-take the two of them made. My wad spent, I didn't even get to try to wheedle unused into saying, "And how."
Several of the Seattleites were uninterested in eating at Madam Butterflys, and I accompanied them in search of other food. Oddly, it turns out that only strip clubs, bars, and expensive restaurants are open past eight in downtown Portland. Thus, we found ourselves wandering the streets of Portland and encountering a very crazy woman. Direct quote: "You and me, we're sisters of the same meat doorknob." Eventually, we ended up at the skuzziest gas station in all of creation eating stale muffins and age-old microwave burritos--which might have been burriots, in case you're wondering, MisterSatan.
Back at the parking lot, Vikprez and Roxy had to change. Fortunately, the Canadians had driven down in a monstrous, second-base-mobile-style van, so there was a spot to change in. Fenris23 had to rescue Roxy and her helper Adore several times from the very tricky sliding door. When Vikprez got in to change, we tried to sneak a peek, but he was very shy and cowered behind the seats. That was oddly cute.
Finally, we were ready to go to the show. Except we had a problem: one under-aged Suicide Girl with nothing to do and nowhere to go-o. Roxy went in to see if we could get Adore in as a tip girl, and DreamMaker and I kept Adore company in line outside. Nixon walked by, and several people in line behind us pointed her out as an SG. I felt a little bad for Adore that she was standing there and they never noticed her. I'm going with that I was eclipsing everyone else's view as the most probable reason that happened.
Just as I broke and came in to see what was going on, Roxy was coming out with the bad news.
I bit the bullet and said I'd keep Adore company while the others went to the show. Even with my out-of-character gallantry, we still had nothing that she could do--except the expensive restaurant. I talked her into the Portland Steak and Chophouse for a late dinner on me. She took my admonition that she never tell anyone about the meal because it would ruin my reputation to heart. While we were being seated, the hostess noticed Adore's SG insignias and made a comment about SG. Adore was too ladylike to toot her own horn, but I've never been subtle. She seemed very pleased to get a little of her SG due.
After looking at the menu, she said she was just going to order the sole cheeseburger at the bottom of the menu--what I think of as the finicky children's section. I told her that she was not going to eat a burger in a nice steakhouse on my check. When I recommended--firmly--that she order a steak, she told me that she didn't really know much about steak, so I took the lead. While she was in the bathroom, I did the "the lady will have" maneuver and set her up with a peppercorn New York steak medium-well, Caesar salad, garlic mashed potatoes, and a bottle of Diet Coke--which on her return from the bathroom she declared to be a very cute little bottle. She was also excited about deodorant and hairspray and other small grooming necessities in the bathroom.
Eventually, she tried to mimic my nonchalance about the meal, but her excitement was palpable. Would it be bad of me to admit that it made me very happy to treat someone to her first dinner of that type and see her very excited? How many times do you get to do that in life? Thus, we sat and had a nice chat in a front-window seat in one of Portland's best steak houses--me in chocolate stained jeans and Counter Culture skate tee and her in a sort-of-punk-rock schoolgirl ensemble and legwarmers. I was highly amused by our dress vis a vis the restaurant.
She started to reach for some floss after the main course--which was excellent and complete with asparagus tips--but I waved her off until the dessert course was done. I ordered a Kalua cheesecake for us to share, and it was good. It was very good.
That managed to eat an hour and a half of the four hours we were to spend waiting. We spent another hour and a half wandering around a particularly less than savory portion of the city. Poor Adore was scared to death of the way some of the people were acting. However, I got a picture of her with a sign that said "Sorry, I'm full" to commemorate my doing the near-impossible: getting enough food in Adore that she wasn't fantasizing about what to eat next. Finally, we hadn't found anything to do, so we just returned to my car and kicked back to wait.
Adore noticed Jayne walking by and got to meet at least one SG last night--I felt bad that she didn't get to meet more. She really wanted to.
Luminaire and Freckle showed up a little after midnight, but after a few minutes' conversation, they sat back in their car, and Adore and I sat back in mine. I tried to rest my eyes a little, and she played Snake on Vikprez's phone.
Eventually, Adore and I walked back to Dante's, and I went in to see what was going on with the rest of the group. Inside, I passed Muzencab and someone I found out later was an SG without noticing them. Only DreamMaker's Canadian-style Afro was distinguishable to me. While I was inside, I had to leave Adore alone, and she got jeered and leered at, which makes me feel like I failed in my duties as her friend somehow. Sigh.
I quickly heard the bad news that there was to be no after party. We made some strained motions to get one going, but I finally pointed out the patently obvious that we were going to end up driving back to Seattle. While returning to the cars, I heard how Roxy had a bad run-in with some creepy people in the crowd. In retrospect, it may have been best that I wasn't there. All the other Seattle guys were ready to defend her honor if she said a word; I don't know if I'd have even waited for the word. People acting like that to any girl angers me--to someone I know and like: no.
Finally back at the cars, Freckle and Luminaire had simply disappeared. The rest of the group started a typical stand-around-and-talk-instead-of-getting-on-with-things type deal. Given that "getting on with things" was a three hour drive starting at three in the morning, I wasn't in the mood to continue standing around talking about nothing. Thus, Muzencab and I simply left. Adore called me about half an hour later, and they were all still at the parking lot apparently. I was already past Vancouver, Washington.
The next few hours were spent continually jolting myself back fully awake, trying to get my eyes to stop crossing, and avoiding Muzencab's brewery aroma. I finally got him dropped off and staggered into my apartment at about dawn. I was wiped but still wired from those last couple Pepsis. Amazingly, that was nothing ten ounces of bourbon wouldn't cure. I dropped off into a drunken, disturbing sleep at about seven.
At eleven-thirty, Adore called me for the comic convention and to tell me that she was at MrDeity's house for some reason. I jolted awake pretty hard and dressed in the first thing I got my hands on--a Decepticons tee that would become the bane of my existence later in the day. I arrived at MrDeity's house, and he met me at the door. The first thing he did was tell me Adore wasn't in the best of moods. That was an understatement. I came in and gradually heard a story of a very sick Adore losing keys, falling down the outside stairs at her house when she couldn't get in, and having a tiny nervous breakdown because of that and her disappointment of the night before. I really felt for her. During this time, she and MrDeity almost got into a fight as to where her glasses might have ended up. MrDeity turned out to be right despite her most strident arguments, but both of us at least had the grace not to point it out to her.
Things got better when we got to the comic con. We spotted PunkJr in his Imperial uniform. Sadly, we didn't get to talk to him, but we did see his friend Jason later. Jason's son was dressed up as Darth Maul, and it was cute enough that even I'd admit it was cute.
Adore and I toured the show for a while. The lines for the featured guests I wanted to see were too long for me to deal with as tired as I was. However, Matt Wagner is sort of a northwest convention whore, so I hope that I'll have a chance to get him to sign a Grendel: War Child #10 someday. I picked up the aforementioned Michel Gagne's The Great Shadow Migration for a song, and he even drew me a picture in the front. Adore liked his work so much that she started talking about getting a tattoo done of something he made--potentially by the artist we met at another booth that specializes in comic tattoos. I also picked up a print of Goth fox's cigar smoking woman. Later, I remembered that I saw her work at the Erotic Arts Festival a month or so ago. I'm tempted to use those black and white ink drawings like she and Kryzstof Nemeth as the general theme if I ever decorate my apartment again.
Adore's deep, dark secret reared its head again, but I pretended not to notice. She also saw a bunch of Sandman stuff to drool over. I kept nodding to people I know, and eventually Adore got tired of asking me who they were and just went with it. I am known by the geeks. We were also both very taken with the fat chick dressed as a Viking.
No. Really.
Eventually, I was running on fumes, and we'd seen the entire show--and I'd heard enough about my fucking Decepticons shirt. I took Adore home, divvied up the swag, and sat on her floor spacing off for a few minutes. Eventually, she roused me, and I made for home. There was a fifteen-minute line at Dick's, but I was so out of it that I didn't notice.
I got home, chatted with MisterSatan and SupremePizzaMan for a bit, and then I just crashed--hard. I woke up three hours later in the middle of my living room floor with drool-glued carpet lint on my face. During this time, I apparently missed seeing the FunctionalGirl online, and this makes me sad.
All in all, yesterday was pretty fucking rotten. However, Adore and I made the best of it, and I really do sort of adore her, so it works out. The SGSeattle kids really learn to do the planning, deciding, and acting on the first two thing a lot better, but that can be learned. Today was better, and Adore was still a lot of fun. I saw some neat stuff and got a couple shiny new things to show people.
Well, I think the Mars Volta's new album is about done playing. Perhaps I'll finish my blood orange and get some rest.
Longest recap for same: After the oddly fun, yet often mediocre events in and around SG Burlesque: Seattle, we decided to mount an expedition to Portland to view the last show of the tour. Many of the usual suspects--Adore, DreamMaker, MrDeity, Roxy, Vikprez--were on the original itinerary. MisterSatan bagged on the trip because he's a big fucking pussy. I still love you, MisterSatan. We also had a small but scrappy contingent of Canadians--Fenris23 (who obviously shares my love for the great wolf), angelvanilla, topbanana66, and the-man-whose-name-I-never-got-and-I-now-think-of-as-the-Mystery-Canadian.
Even though I was twenty miles out of Seattle when I called Vikprez and he was leaving at the same time as me from a much shorter drive, I made it to the Canadians' hotel long before his contingent, so we watched some Papillion on cable. Muzencab called me, and we started trying to coordinate him meeting us for lunch. Eventually, most of the rest of the Seattleites appeared, and we headed off to Pike Place Market. Given my elite traffic skills, it's little wonder that I beat the group by a good ten minutes to the giant bronze piggy bank, but I still had horrible flashes of being ditched.
Predictably, we started urging Adore to ride the pig, and just as predictably, she agreed. We snapped a few pictures of her and various members of the group on and around the pig.
Then it was downstairs for a visit to Golden Age Collectibles. Adore was in heaven, and we learned a deep, dark secret about her. Various of the group loaded up on their favorite comics, and we were well satisfied to have a nice leisurely lunch at the Pike Brewery--here I must interject that the crispy onion burger is faboo.
This was to be the last of the non-trying moments for a while.
After our late lunch, we realized that we had no idea how to get any of the places we were conceptually supposed to meet up. We ventured to an internet caf in Capitol Hill to rectify this. However, such a simple need turned into a dragged-out hour of people checking the site and getting overly dramatic about where the Seattle people were going to stay in Portland--let's just say the planning was lacking for the whole night and not belabor the point. While waiting outside, we saw one of the other members walk up and down the street several times with a small Sears TV. That was mildly surreal.
Eventually, I took the helm and got some maps printed--albeit one too few, but we managed. Then we were off--about an hour later than we planned. My enthusiasm was already flagging.
MisterSatan rode with me to Tacoma, and I picked Muzencab up in Federal Way. I then managed to escape Tacoma without encountering any of the famed bears. After that, it was Muzencab, me, and the road for the next two hours. During this time, Muzencab called half the Safeways in southwestern Washington trying to find late tickets to the show. After some near stunt driving work on some deserted highway north of Portland, we found out that there were no tickets to be had anywhere other than Dante's. Given all my side-trips, it's amazing that I made it to Madam Butterflys not long after the other three vehicles.
We had some passable Japanese food at the restaurant and met Ryan who was even prettier in person than in her pictures--amazing, I know. Muzencab left in search of tickets, and I realized that unused was at the bar. A plan began to percolate in my head.
When Muzencab returned, I saw him and unused standing near each other. I got DreamMaker's attention and had him introduce the two of them. They didn't see the setup, but everyone at the table was waiting for payoff. Finally, I broke in and asked Muzencab if unused was still the hottest woman on the site, and everyone got a good giggle out of the triple-take the two of them made. My wad spent, I didn't even get to try to wheedle unused into saying, "And how."
Several of the Seattleites were uninterested in eating at Madam Butterflys, and I accompanied them in search of other food. Oddly, it turns out that only strip clubs, bars, and expensive restaurants are open past eight in downtown Portland. Thus, we found ourselves wandering the streets of Portland and encountering a very crazy woman. Direct quote: "You and me, we're sisters of the same meat doorknob." Eventually, we ended up at the skuzziest gas station in all of creation eating stale muffins and age-old microwave burritos--which might have been burriots, in case you're wondering, MisterSatan.
Back at the parking lot, Vikprez and Roxy had to change. Fortunately, the Canadians had driven down in a monstrous, second-base-mobile-style van, so there was a spot to change in. Fenris23 had to rescue Roxy and her helper Adore several times from the very tricky sliding door. When Vikprez got in to change, we tried to sneak a peek, but he was very shy and cowered behind the seats. That was oddly cute.
Finally, we were ready to go to the show. Except we had a problem: one under-aged Suicide Girl with nothing to do and nowhere to go-o. Roxy went in to see if we could get Adore in as a tip girl, and DreamMaker and I kept Adore company in line outside. Nixon walked by, and several people in line behind us pointed her out as an SG. I felt a little bad for Adore that she was standing there and they never noticed her. I'm going with that I was eclipsing everyone else's view as the most probable reason that happened.
Just as I broke and came in to see what was going on, Roxy was coming out with the bad news.
I bit the bullet and said I'd keep Adore company while the others went to the show. Even with my out-of-character gallantry, we still had nothing that she could do--except the expensive restaurant. I talked her into the Portland Steak and Chophouse for a late dinner on me. She took my admonition that she never tell anyone about the meal because it would ruin my reputation to heart. While we were being seated, the hostess noticed Adore's SG insignias and made a comment about SG. Adore was too ladylike to toot her own horn, but I've never been subtle. She seemed very pleased to get a little of her SG due.
After looking at the menu, she said she was just going to order the sole cheeseburger at the bottom of the menu--what I think of as the finicky children's section. I told her that she was not going to eat a burger in a nice steakhouse on my check. When I recommended--firmly--that she order a steak, she told me that she didn't really know much about steak, so I took the lead. While she was in the bathroom, I did the "the lady will have" maneuver and set her up with a peppercorn New York steak medium-well, Caesar salad, garlic mashed potatoes, and a bottle of Diet Coke--which on her return from the bathroom she declared to be a very cute little bottle. She was also excited about deodorant and hairspray and other small grooming necessities in the bathroom.
Eventually, she tried to mimic my nonchalance about the meal, but her excitement was palpable. Would it be bad of me to admit that it made me very happy to treat someone to her first dinner of that type and see her very excited? How many times do you get to do that in life? Thus, we sat and had a nice chat in a front-window seat in one of Portland's best steak houses--me in chocolate stained jeans and Counter Culture skate tee and her in a sort-of-punk-rock schoolgirl ensemble and legwarmers. I was highly amused by our dress vis a vis the restaurant.
She started to reach for some floss after the main course--which was excellent and complete with asparagus tips--but I waved her off until the dessert course was done. I ordered a Kalua cheesecake for us to share, and it was good. It was very good.
That managed to eat an hour and a half of the four hours we were to spend waiting. We spent another hour and a half wandering around a particularly less than savory portion of the city. Poor Adore was scared to death of the way some of the people were acting. However, I got a picture of her with a sign that said "Sorry, I'm full" to commemorate my doing the near-impossible: getting enough food in Adore that she wasn't fantasizing about what to eat next. Finally, we hadn't found anything to do, so we just returned to my car and kicked back to wait.
Adore noticed Jayne walking by and got to meet at least one SG last night--I felt bad that she didn't get to meet more. She really wanted to.
Luminaire and Freckle showed up a little after midnight, but after a few minutes' conversation, they sat back in their car, and Adore and I sat back in mine. I tried to rest my eyes a little, and she played Snake on Vikprez's phone.
Eventually, Adore and I walked back to Dante's, and I went in to see what was going on with the rest of the group. Inside, I passed Muzencab and someone I found out later was an SG without noticing them. Only DreamMaker's Canadian-style Afro was distinguishable to me. While I was inside, I had to leave Adore alone, and she got jeered and leered at, which makes me feel like I failed in my duties as her friend somehow. Sigh.
I quickly heard the bad news that there was to be no after party. We made some strained motions to get one going, but I finally pointed out the patently obvious that we were going to end up driving back to Seattle. While returning to the cars, I heard how Roxy had a bad run-in with some creepy people in the crowd. In retrospect, it may have been best that I wasn't there. All the other Seattle guys were ready to defend her honor if she said a word; I don't know if I'd have even waited for the word. People acting like that to any girl angers me--to someone I know and like: no.
Finally back at the cars, Freckle and Luminaire had simply disappeared. The rest of the group started a typical stand-around-and-talk-instead-of-getting-on-with-things type deal. Given that "getting on with things" was a three hour drive starting at three in the morning, I wasn't in the mood to continue standing around talking about nothing. Thus, Muzencab and I simply left. Adore called me about half an hour later, and they were all still at the parking lot apparently. I was already past Vancouver, Washington.
The next few hours were spent continually jolting myself back fully awake, trying to get my eyes to stop crossing, and avoiding Muzencab's brewery aroma. I finally got him dropped off and staggered into my apartment at about dawn. I was wiped but still wired from those last couple Pepsis. Amazingly, that was nothing ten ounces of bourbon wouldn't cure. I dropped off into a drunken, disturbing sleep at about seven.
At eleven-thirty, Adore called me for the comic convention and to tell me that she was at MrDeity's house for some reason. I jolted awake pretty hard and dressed in the first thing I got my hands on--a Decepticons tee that would become the bane of my existence later in the day. I arrived at MrDeity's house, and he met me at the door. The first thing he did was tell me Adore wasn't in the best of moods. That was an understatement. I came in and gradually heard a story of a very sick Adore losing keys, falling down the outside stairs at her house when she couldn't get in, and having a tiny nervous breakdown because of that and her disappointment of the night before. I really felt for her. During this time, she and MrDeity almost got into a fight as to where her glasses might have ended up. MrDeity turned out to be right despite her most strident arguments, but both of us at least had the grace not to point it out to her.
Things got better when we got to the comic con. We spotted PunkJr in his Imperial uniform. Sadly, we didn't get to talk to him, but we did see his friend Jason later. Jason's son was dressed up as Darth Maul, and it was cute enough that even I'd admit it was cute.
Adore and I toured the show for a while. The lines for the featured guests I wanted to see were too long for me to deal with as tired as I was. However, Matt Wagner is sort of a northwest convention whore, so I hope that I'll have a chance to get him to sign a Grendel: War Child #10 someday. I picked up the aforementioned Michel Gagne's The Great Shadow Migration for a song, and he even drew me a picture in the front. Adore liked his work so much that she started talking about getting a tattoo done of something he made--potentially by the artist we met at another booth that specializes in comic tattoos. I also picked up a print of Goth fox's cigar smoking woman. Later, I remembered that I saw her work at the Erotic Arts Festival a month or so ago. I'm tempted to use those black and white ink drawings like she and Kryzstof Nemeth as the general theme if I ever decorate my apartment again.
Adore's deep, dark secret reared its head again, but I pretended not to notice. She also saw a bunch of Sandman stuff to drool over. I kept nodding to people I know, and eventually Adore got tired of asking me who they were and just went with it. I am known by the geeks. We were also both very taken with the fat chick dressed as a Viking.
No. Really.
Eventually, I was running on fumes, and we'd seen the entire show--and I'd heard enough about my fucking Decepticons shirt. I took Adore home, divvied up the swag, and sat on her floor spacing off for a few minutes. Eventually, she roused me, and I made for home. There was a fifteen-minute line at Dick's, but I was so out of it that I didn't notice.
I got home, chatted with MisterSatan and SupremePizzaMan for a bit, and then I just crashed--hard. I woke up three hours later in the middle of my living room floor with drool-glued carpet lint on my face. During this time, I apparently missed seeing the FunctionalGirl online, and this makes me sad.
All in all, yesterday was pretty fucking rotten. However, Adore and I made the best of it, and I really do sort of adore her, so it works out. The SGSeattle kids really learn to do the planning, deciding, and acting on the first two thing a lot better, but that can be learned. Today was better, and Adore was still a lot of fun. I saw some neat stuff and got a couple shiny new things to show people.
Well, I think the Mars Volta's new album is about done playing. Perhaps I'll finish my blood orange and get some rest.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
kara:
Thank you for the story, sorry I didn't get back to you soon but I couldn't get online untill tonight which is Monday.
monkeypox:
now i know i never have to attend another sg event again...between reading your jounal and listening to a certain someone babble, i can pretty much get the picture.