I joined a geocaching meetup. I really like geocaching and I thought it would be fun to do it with a group. The first meetup was a meet and greet thing at El Arroyo. The place was really loud, so it was hard to hear what everyone was saying. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was an odd experience. The woman who organized the meetup had printed out an agenda and was introducing everyone at the table by reading the bios we had posted on the meetup group. Why couldn’t we just introduce ourselves?
Then she gave us a quiz about geocaching which assumed we were all familiar with the geocaching.com web site, which I had never visited. The group was supposed to be laid back and open to all experience levels, so that was a bit weird. She had written a little poem that she wanted us to read in unison at the beginning and end of our meetups, like we were in the Boy Scouts or something. The whole thing was at once over-organized and a little silly.
I’m still going to give it a shot and see what it is like to go find an actual cache with the group.
This isn’t actually a dream I had, but a dream in which I appeared. My new friend Anneke had a dream in which I had been commissioned to design dreamworlds. I would appear in the dreamworld as different objects that had my head (Cheshire cat style) and dispense clues.
One of the worlds was a field of rolling hills through which completely unnecessary channels had been dug. I had built bridges over the channels. I appeared to her as a bridge, explaining that the company intended to eventually charge pedestrians to cross the bridges. She realized that I had made the channels narrow enough that you could jump over them without paying the toll. I explained, in waking life, that this is exactly the sort of passive-aggressive thing I would do to subvert plans I found foolish yet I am for whatever reason obligated to follow.
I’ve been working my way through the complete Calvin and Hobbes, three huge tomes containing the entire run. It has aged well. After 20+ years, Calvin’s antics and Hobbes’ witticisms still amuse. I had forgotten, or perhaps not realized, how profoundly the strip had affected me. It celebrated imagination, making up your own rules, and overlaying reality with your own template. As an adult, I don’t look back and say to Calvin “Oh, you naive boy, you have no understanding of the world’s complexities.” I find myself saying, “You are right, Calvin. That is true, but adults pretend it isn’t.”
When I was a kid, I was bothered by Watterson’s seeming inability to stay on model with Hobbes. Sometimes he drew the tiger like Hobbes was just a stuffed animal. But now I know better. The stuffed animal was a metaphor for how adults just can’t deal with seeing the tigers all around them.
The reoccurring hotel dream had a new twist last night. I was moving between one hotel and another. The new hotel had cascading fountains that were also steps outside the the perimeter. I walked along the wet edges, my suitcase splashing behind me. Once inside the lobby, I of course realized that I didn’t know what room I was supposed to stay in. More than that, I couldn’t remember the name of the hotel I was supposed to go to, so I wasn’t even sure if I was in the correct one. So I called my mom to find out the name of the hotel.
That’s all I remember about that dream before it turned into a dream about me and a group of resistance fighters in battle with a paramilitary group.
I still need to write up an account of STAPLE for yesterday, but I’m still pretty wiped out.
Last night/this morning I found myself at a party with improv peeps from The New Movement. We didn’t know whose house it was. The walls were adorned with large anatomical illustrations where one might find a Van Gogh. Similarly, there were coffee table books about horse anatomy. Outside on the patio, a projector displayed super gay music videos against the side of the wall. I don’t know if it was a primarily gay party or what. It was just the backdrop to some good conversations and some idiot savant wisdom coming out of Milo’s mouth, including some secrets about sloths and the directive to not deny his passion.
I hadn’t heard about STAPLE! until last year. Chris Nicholas, a guy I met in improv classes at The New Movement, created and organized it. It is basically a mini convention for indie comic creators, game designers, and artists in general. You can find out more at www.staple-austin.org .
I had never been a vendor at a convention, so I didn’t know what to expect. Chris warned me that STAPLE! kind of spoils vendors for other conventions because it is such a cool experience. He was not wrong. My vague plan was to roll in there with copies of House of Whack and The Stork and see what happened. Read the rest of this entry »
I was holding off on posting in my blog because I am going to be moving web hosts, but that has been delayed due to a mixup.
The STAPLE pre-party was neat. I had forgotten how many comic books there were at Austin Books & Comics. It felt like an ark for comic books, a backup vault in case civilization fell. I didn’t really know anyone there besides Chris, but my “Team Linus” shirt served as social currency. I also got to meet Goatboy, the artist who did the interior art for The Stork. I had only worked with him online.
Then I went to Reed’s housewarming party where I talked to cute girls about Doctor Who. Cory brought New Age and fruit, pretty much sealing the deal on the fun party situation.
So, starting tomorrow, my Google calendar looks like a blocky cross section of the Funtime Mountains or the EEG readout of the Busytown heartbeat. Lots going on. Planned soirées and the like. It resembles a social person’s schedule, as opposed to a Netflix hermit. Read the rest of this entry »
I’m deleting all the music from my iTunes collection which exists only because someone else was into it. I had the habit of downloading an entire discography if a friend mentioned some music I should check out. Or maybe I had the music because a girl I liked liked it.
I’m just over 100 gigs now, which is still a ton of music, much of which I may not have even heard.
I had this whole post mentally queued up about the nature of internet celebrity re: Penny Arcade vs. Jordan, Jesse, Go! but I’ve had a bit of wine, so it will need to be tabled for later. Instead, let me tell you about the fantastic Monte Cubano sandwiches I made tonight. As is tradition, we gather at Nick and Amanda’s to watch Lost. But first we have fancy sandwiches. Tonight I faced the challenge of preparing the sandwiches. I’m making a note here: Huge Success.