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quislibetI could have gone to a birthday party and a Buffy marathon this weekend. Instead of the first, I went strawberry picking and did a bunch of housework and studying and laundry and helped J. finish her book index. Instead of the second -- well, let me just quote mishak:
"...I don't wanna hang around a buncha losers doing something as dorky as a Buffy marathon; I'm gonna go play Dungeons & Dragons."
Ah, the sadistic geeky Dungeon-Masterly thrill as our heroes finish their four-session (and 9-or-10-month; we meet infrequently) search of the catacombs to find the Elven not-a-princess, only to miss a trap check and accidentally kill her.
They had some mojo to bring her back, but still.
---
Two things:
(1) We are folding laundry at, appropriately, the laundromat. A Latino man is talking on his cell phone behind us in a fluid and fluent mixture of English and Spanish. He is trying to scare up musician friends to get together and practice for a gig at a party in Waltham. He is describing to one friend the guitar player he has found.
(Hispanic accent) "You know, Joey's brother Josh. He's a mad old-school guitar player. He's naaasty. ... Yeah, you've seen him at parties. He's always lying on the floor. I always think he's about to pass away from an overdose. He's like, (Sudden, perfect American stoner/surfer voice) 'Duuude, I think I just pissed myself.' (Back to Hispanic accent) 'No, dude, you just spilled your beer...'"
(2) There is an envelope in our mailbox. It is from la famille B--- from the village of T--- in Bigouden, Brittany, our hosts for a fun evening of farm touring and school suppering and Breton dancing which I have so far failed to write up here.
Rewind: night before Easter, T---, Bigouden: At the school supper, some of the locals are curious about the American tourists who have come to the fund-raising boiled dinner at the two-room school house. The local reporter is there and takes our picture. Monsieur B--- has apparently told him that J. is a famous American actress who has been on location nearby for a film and I am her traveling companion.
Return to Saturday: The envelope contains, among other things, a photocopy of a brief newspaper article.
J.'s upcoming film is apparently entitled "Il fera beau demain." I can't wait to see it.
"...I don't wanna hang around a buncha losers doing something as dorky as a Buffy marathon; I'm gonna go play Dungeons & Dragons."
Ah, the sadistic geeky Dungeon-Masterly thrill as our heroes finish their four-session (and 9-or-10-month; we meet infrequently) search of the catacombs to find the Elven not-a-princess, only to miss a trap check and accidentally kill her.
They had some mojo to bring her back, but still.
---
Two things:
(1) We are folding laundry at, appropriately, the laundromat. A Latino man is talking on his cell phone behind us in a fluid and fluent mixture of English and Spanish. He is trying to scare up musician friends to get together and practice for a gig at a party in Waltham. He is describing to one friend the guitar player he has found.
(Hispanic accent) "You know, Joey's brother Josh. He's a mad old-school guitar player. He's naaasty. ... Yeah, you've seen him at parties. He's always lying on the floor. I always think he's about to pass away from an overdose. He's like, (Sudden, perfect American stoner/surfer voice) 'Duuude, I think I just pissed myself.' (Back to Hispanic accent) 'No, dude, you just spilled your beer...'"
(2) There is an envelope in our mailbox. It is from la famille B--- from the village of T--- in Bigouden, Brittany, our hosts for a fun evening of farm touring and school suppering and Breton dancing which I have so far failed to write up here.
Rewind: night before Easter, T---, Bigouden: At the school supper, some of the locals are curious about the American tourists who have come to the fund-raising boiled dinner at the two-room school house. The local reporter is there and takes our picture. Monsieur B--- has apparently told him that J. is a famous American actress who has been on location nearby for a film and I am her traveling companion.
Return to Saturday: The envelope contains, among other things, a photocopy of a brief newspaper article.
J.'s upcoming film is apparently entitled "Il fera beau demain." I can't wait to see it.
