jchrisobrien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jchrisobrien) wrote2001-11-19 02:19 pm
jchrisobrien) wrote2001-11-19 02:19 pm
Saturday: Rush, rush, fret, bemuse, arouse, cringe, inspire
Much of the day consisted of traveling around the area shopping for Thanksgiving goodness. Lots of supplies and provisions were picked up, including a 21 lb turkey. I also got to spend time with a friend who lives nearby, but I know mostly online or at parties. I sold him on the new Front Line Assembly album, which we got to hear in it's entirety as we drove from Waltham to Arlington to Fresh Pond to Porter Sq. Our good procured, we grabbed dinner at Christopher's and warmed ourselves by the fire. It was also the first meal I'd eaten all day. Which made it taste all the better.
Saturday night reminded me how silly people can look while engaged in the "pursuit of happiness". There nothing like watching pretty goth kids walking around with balloons and garbage bags bigger than they are full of nitrous. The atmosphere of the house was very nice though: food and drinks downstairs, music and massages and the tank on the next floor, and the Plur room upstairs. I spent a fair bit of time in the music room, just relaxing and chatting with people prior to watching the stars fall.
The drive to NH was exquisite. All road trips should be like that one.
What awaited in NH was as painful as the drive up was wonderful. My friend dug up a relic from the 80's called Hell Hole, about a doctor who drugged patients at an all girl sanitarium ... for reasons that were never clear to us. It was an awful movie in the way that few films can aspire to; its cheese and gratuitous nudity and lack of plot transcended badness into goodness, and slid right back into badness. It was She bad.
If you've seen She, you know what I mean. You poor, poor bastards.
And in the end, the heavens made everything all right. We intrepid few staggered out into the cold NH night, frozen grass crackling under our feet, zombie jokes ringing out in the air. Most of us stood and watched. I threw my bean bag chair down, plopped down in my down jacket, hat, and gloves, and threw a blanket over me. I was warm. Flat out comfortable, as the meteors began to fall in earnest. Two, three, once five at a time. Each rock that burned up in the atmosphere and left a glittering trail silenced the jokes and bawdy comments for a time. We moved to a few different locations, and traded all sorts of comments back and forth, until the others needed to retreat to the warmth. It was good to hear everyone talk, I threw out a comment here on there, but for the most part my attention was on the beauty in the heavens.
Until at last, between five and six, sleep came.
Saturday night reminded me how silly people can look while engaged in the "pursuit of happiness". There nothing like watching pretty goth kids walking around with balloons and garbage bags bigger than they are full of nitrous. The atmosphere of the house was very nice though: food and drinks downstairs, music and massages and the tank on the next floor, and the Plur room upstairs. I spent a fair bit of time in the music room, just relaxing and chatting with people prior to watching the stars fall.
The drive to NH was exquisite. All road trips should be like that one.
What awaited in NH was as painful as the drive up was wonderful. My friend dug up a relic from the 80's called Hell Hole, about a doctor who drugged patients at an all girl sanitarium ... for reasons that were never clear to us. It was an awful movie in the way that few films can aspire to; its cheese and gratuitous nudity and lack of plot transcended badness into goodness, and slid right back into badness. It was She bad.
If you've seen She, you know what I mean. You poor, poor bastards.
And in the end, the heavens made everything all right. We intrepid few staggered out into the cold NH night, frozen grass crackling under our feet, zombie jokes ringing out in the air. Most of us stood and watched. I threw my bean bag chair down, plopped down in my down jacket, hat, and gloves, and threw a blanket over me. I was warm. Flat out comfortable, as the meteors began to fall in earnest. Two, three, once five at a time. Each rock that burned up in the atmosphere and left a glittering trail silenced the jokes and bawdy comments for a time. We moved to a few different locations, and traded all sorts of comments back and forth, until the others needed to retreat to the warmth. It was good to hear everyone talk, I threw out a comment here on there, but for the most part my attention was on the beauty in the heavens.
Until at last, between five and six, sleep came.