I feel very very tired. I don’t think I’ve spent enough time at home this weekend. However, I have acquired my usual mild beginning of summer burn, which is always pleasant in a strange sort of way.
I now have six rolls of film that I really have to get developed, three of which were taken this weekend. SecretCon, naturally.
We’re awaiting a call from the Weirmier to see him one last time before he goes on European tour with this celtic band Tanglefoot. I’m betting he’s going to have a blast while he’s gone, but we shall certainly miss him. Talented freakboy.
SecretCon was fun. I’ve confirmed a couple of previous observations about myself this weekend:
1 – I am not overtly social and outgoing in group situations
2 – I am not a city person, and I don’t like doing city person things like dancing at clubs and such. And I barely like karaoke anymore.
I wish, more than anything right now, that I owned a car. A shitbox, something that looked like hell, don’t care if it has air conditioning, don’t care if it’s a convertible, just as long as it runs well and can handle long trips and keep up with traffic and I can trust it not to break down… I would kill for that. I hate feeling so trapped here sometimes, waiting and hoping that someone somewhere will take pity and take me away somewhere. I envy those of you with cars.