…at 12:50 PM this afternoon, just after we found out that the one remaining RPG session left that a) we were interested in and b) wasn’t sold out was a game that required us to be at a prior session in order for us to play (a piddling little detail that should have been on the description), I slump down and start to massage my aching feet. My girlfriend looks at me, I look at her, she pulls out her cell phone and cancels the last night of our stay and we head for our hotel. One fifteen minute walk later (normally five, but there was a gay pride parade going on in Columbus that was paralleling our route*), we’re going through our hotel room like a NSA sanitation squad covering up that unfortunate complication for the Senator; by 2 PM we’re on the road, having discovered the way out of Columbus, City of the Shifting Streets, with only a minimum of SAN loss. Eight hours and three states later, we have arrived and I can begin to decompress from my blipping vacation.
Loopy? Disjointed? Rambling? Who, moi?
Anyway, I’m sure that the news I’ve read so far will seem far less surreal tomorrow. Well, no, I’m not, but a man can dream.
Moe
UPDATE: Got some sleep and cleaned up some of the babbling, but the news is still all surreal. Alas, alack.
*What? Oh. Well, it was a parade, you know? Lots of displays about gay marriage and a minimum of outrageousness. Three spectators with protest signs – although I’m still trying to figure out where in John 3:16 its says a blessed thing about gay people – and that was about it, in a pretty good crowd. Deeply ironic bit: one of the sponsors was Coors Lite (the ironic bit was that the audio commercial that they were broadcasting had a bit about, I kid you not, a guy bragging about how his finest achievement was sleeping with a supermodel before she was a supermodel). Good marching band; pretty good amateur twirlers – you know, that thing with the baton with silk flags on the end, that gets tossed up and swung around in sync with everybody else? I don’t know what that’s called, but they had a bunch of those, and they had obviously practiced. Just another piece of Americana, in other words – which I believe is supposed to be the point.
Well, I can top that — at the Boston Pride parade two weeks or so ago, there was a huge Jaegermeister bus, which was wierd enough on its own, immediately followed by what appeared to be a gay sobriety group.