unthematic french casino
okay then!
I love not getting into blogging my weekend til Wednesday…it’s like I finally move past it, only to revisit it. Friday night looked to be a little on the unclimatic side…I went to see Ponyo on its opening date at the Alamo Village in lieu of actually forming Friday night plans. I have to confess…it sucked compared to every other Miyazaki film I’ve seen (eight others), even compared to his kiddiest other feature, which would probably be Castle in the Sky. I guess it’s not the worst thing in the world that he chose to really kid it the fuck up, but the dialog was sooooooooo crazily annoying that any visual flair/magic/weirdness was sort of overshadowed by shit like ‘Ponyo LOVES ham!’ and similarly endless annoyances. There is some of the usual, cool villain-of-uncertain-evil, man-versus-nature and raaaaaaaaad magical manifestation of the keeper of nature…but this was just not up to par with everything else I’ve seen him do. Also, most anime films (Miyazaki included) they wrap and roll credits with a terrifically awful Japanese pop song. Unfortunately, this film had a trainwreck of a duet with the baby sis of Miley Cyrus (?!?!) and the baby bro of the Jonas Bothers (?!$#%@) that left me begging for any manner of Japanopop.
But my burger was really good, as it was the first substantive post-diet cheat. And that’s why the Alamo can be awesome…even if you leave confused, let down or generall head-scratchy, you cannot argue with the deliciousness…but you can argue with a food + ticket = automatic twinny dollas dropped!
Anyway. After that, I had a couple beers and some delicious contraband and lost my desire to further go out…luckily, some text-games from hometown legendress ANGEL found me running over to her house around midnight for HOURS of beer-drinking, dog-walking, sew-watching, youtubies and story-trading, all in nervy preparation for Saturday’s epic GADJO DISKO! I spent days alllll a-tingle, just waiting to throw together a fashion jam for this amazing and incomparable event. No coincidence is it that the initials of Gadjo Disko and GOD DAMN are one and the same.
Saturday, I woke up early for followup to a 4 a.m. bedtime so I could prep a picnic lunch for newfangled Montana-friend Stephana’s visit so we could troll the many corners of this town in search of accessories and fashion magic for GD GD. I made a delicious pasta salad with loads of romano cheese and some purrtend pancetta and snap peas, asparagus, red onion and bell peppers of every colors and my soon-to-be-celebrated seeeeeeeeeecret tuna salad (on Whole Foods’ rosemary sourdough bread…world’s. greatest. bread.).
We had a great adventure, going hither and yon, chatting of days and times Missoulian, scoping the dope new porch situation at Flipnotics, finally finding this dude the vest that could make my outfit POP (though I wish in retrospect for more and better bling, face-paint/makeup and of course PHOTOS of my amazing look).
Fast-forward a few hours later, in the thick of the Gadjo Magick…I had been excited all fucking day, and even the day before…I could even feel my excitement building crazily for the next one, even though the first was not yet nigh. BUT. There was dancing MUCH DANCING and also much drinking of the whiskey. Soon, Stephana’s roommate Barb washed up after her performance, and through some magickal subterfuge I was able to help get her in. For which I was rewarded with several successive snackings of mushrooms. I probably ate about an eighth? Maybe a tiny bit more? And was enjoying myself muchly but in a fairly cohesive manner. And though I ended up leaving a bit before 3 instead of staying til 4, I felt cool with a quick and slightly trippy drive home. At a little after 3 at mi casa, I took a few hits of some healing herbs with friends…and stepping through a rabbit ho’ like never befo’!!
Shit got MAD SHAMANIC. I begged my roommate to let me go walking alone through our sketchy hood laaaaate at night but ended up compromising with some spirited rolling-around in the grass in the sanctuary of the back yard. However, the light-speed crazy of my brain and the way I could see the pulsating, crystalline fourth-dimensionality of the night sky and it’s nebulous movements was making me more crazy than I could stand.
I needed a buddy. BAD. My roomies went to bed around 4 and so I got on the horn (or attempted to) with a good many people…even out of town magicians (in earlier-houred timezones) were being consulted. Finally, I ended up calling my ex, who was @ GD and also lives nearby BEGGING him to come save me from the velocirapture of my own mind. And seriously THANK THE PULSATING HEAVENS it was him who heeded my call because I really needed to smear my face into someone’s body, hold onto them like they were the only thing keeping me on the ground and not be totally embarrassed about getting all queer on someone (this guy i have obvs gotten ALL queer on before).
I have tripped a lot and really quite enjoy it…I have always liked pushing my boundaries progressively further and further, going from needing to be in the woods to attempting to calmly stroll through the already-overwhelming streets of Amsterdam. But seriously. It had never been like that. Never have I felt like just coming out on the other side of such an experience could be so formative.
But it was. And I needed it. While I was still desperately face-smooshing and trying to communicated, I think I was saying something like ‘Omigod I can’t believe I’m going through this alone but it is SO IMPORTANT and so about everything that I am right now that I’m going through this alone’ and I have no idea how long JT stayed with me on the grass (at least an hour if not two) but he is now SAINTLY in my eyes even if things did naturally get a little take-advantagey as the lawn-rolling got less trippy and more earthly.
Sunday. Maybe four or five hours of sleep. Multi-laterally hungover. Managed to make it to the Sweet 16 of TOP DRAWER, a badass for-charity thrift spot right behind my very first Austin home. In addition to the award winning combination of free pizza & beer, a jaunt from a fave local coffeeshop where I had some delicious espresso and DJing from a KOOP radio fave…they were having a sale! And a huge one at that! Including PANTS that actually fit my tall ass! Not one, but two pairs! And friends to catch up with! And then cake!
Even though I was sooooooooo weary from the previous night’s many, many antics…I felt more affirmed than burned out. This may have inspired me to make a reeeeeally really badass chili in what seems to be my official chili style (lotsa mole and salsa verde and darkly-spicy, earthy flavors).
So I can sorta see, with some reflection and a scarily-complete rundown of all the total shit I splurged on why I am right back in the poor house where I belong. And that. Is. Okay. Because the more used to it I become, the better at it I’m going to be and the more I’m going to learn from it….and hopefully one of the pending lessons is ‘how to get the fuck out of it.’ But if not, at least I have a mega-leg up on the apocalyptic world that awaits!
