I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte (colubra) wrote,
I'd forgotten how often we saw Magritte
colubra

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Weekend Update

With your host, colubra Miller.

Friday:
home from work, in bed by 1 AM, finding myself not quite able to nod off.
Saturday:
up around 10ish. Miss call from toast3r by about 3 minutes, call back, give him directions.
toast3r and I hung out around the house for a while, then went to the Castro. Lip Service shirt bought, for it looks only 5-10 pounds of weightloss away (and therefore is a good incentive present to self). In direct contradiction of this, next purchase was 7 pieces of decadent chocolate, as there's only so long left to buy Faerie Queene Chocolate's merchandise (waaah).
Pile into housematecar with toast3r, drive around Outer Parkside looking for goweli's then-current apartment. Find lyricagent & wurmfood and the U-Haul of Doom, but not goweli's apartment. Drive around aimlessly for an hour, then goweli calls lyricagent and we find out where we're going, arriving there just after 4 PM.
Odd observation: we then spent about 1 hour packing goweli's life into the uhaul.
About 15 minutes driving to her new place.
and then everything was out of the truck, which was en route to the U-Haul lot within about 15 minutes. ZÜM.
Got goweli's stuff upstairs, had a manhattan. toaster and goweli's new roommate (who is perhaps known as Prince Griffyne to some of you reading this) change clothes, and go to reddheart's, to get ready for the next event
Which is Guerilla Queer Bar. Celebrating Gay Marriage, we went to various bars in the Marina dressed as a wedding party, including a rather hirsute bride, a couple of adorable fags in tuxes with 'just married' hats covered with weddingy stuff, Sister Dana Van Iquity of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and us (myself, toaster, Prince Griffyne, and reddheart), as the father of bride, (cock)ringbearer, groom, and knocked-up bride (respectively). We may well appear in the Bay Times, oooOOOOOoooh.
Then back to mine with throbbingly sore feet, and into bed.
Sunday:
woke entirely earlier than I wanted to, saw houseguest off (name struck to enable protestations of innocence on his part), went back to bed. Spent rest of day swallowing mucus from sinuses who were in a Twisted Sister sort of mood. No, they weren't going to fucking take it anymore. The word of the day? Sniiiiiiiiifff-snort grauphn-haughn ptui.

And so I find myself on Monday, sickish (not actually ailing), aching in places I did not know I possessed places, and amazed I made it through all that.
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