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Archive for July, 2009

I’m back and in the best mood I’ve been in for…hm. Months? Months and months, even.

I returned my rental car about an hour ago and now all I want to do is curl up on my bed and watch a crapload of TiVo. Except that I can’t because apparently my satellite receiver took a dump the day after I left for Washington and nothing recorded for the past nine days. NINE DAYS. Dear god. I probably missed an incredibly deep episode of Daisy of Love or Charm School. (yes, I’m actually TiVo’ing that shit. What? WHAT? HEY. It’s for the lolz!)

This is the first time ever where I’ve actually felt a physical rush of relief following the festival. No more worrying about budgets and timelines and supplies and e-mails for at least three or four months. Or possibly less. Dunno. People are so wound around the axel about the myriad possibilities for next year’s festival that I have a feeling the work will start up far sooner than Jared and I would like it to. But I guess that’s the price we pay for eternal festival glory. (ha)

At any rate, I just feel pretty wonderful right now. The rest of my summer is all riches and rewards. Just the one class for the next month and then a three-week break between terms, and I’m loving this class so it’s cheesecake to me. Then the super unbelievable sexy pseudo-goth awesomeness of Depeche Mode in two weeks…honestly, this is the crown jewel in my summer fun; I don’t think I’ve shut up about it since I bought the tickets back in March. And a couple days after DM, it’s camping for a solid week. Glorious. All I need now is for the weather to cooperate (i.e. STOP WITH THE TRIPLE DIGITS) and it’s all gravy.

Actually, what would be gravy is getting The Couch Dweller to relocate to someone else’s sofa. Typically I like to spend this day every year just being by myself, catching up on e-mails, pampering the cats, idly unpacking and doing a bit of clean-up from whatever The Roommate has managed to untidy while I’m gone. It’s a solitude I appreciate very much, especially considering that my transition from Fest Vacation to Not Vacation is rather abrupt. This year, though, it’s been less than restful. I get up this morning to begin my puttering, and I can’t do anything in the front of the house because The Couch Dweller is sound asleep AND SNORING. So I make a quick cup of tea and settle down in the front of my computer, only to be interrupted about half an hour later by The Couch Dweller, who is now awake and wants to be all up in my grill about my vacation and everything I did while on it.

This would make sense if we were, y’know, buddies and all. But our relationship is nothing like that. And what made it even worse is that he has never been able to recognize the subtle signs of someone not wanting to have a conversation. You know how it is…you don’t want to talk, so you give off the Go Away Vibe by giving very short, unemotional answers to the other person’s questions until they get the hint and back off. But The Couch Dweller is about as perceptive as a wall. So the fact that my gentle Go Away Vibe quickly turned into my shrieking Fuck Off Vibe was completely lost on him. Instead, I had to take the “I’m going to take a ripe, hairy dump now” approach by grabbing the nearest book and ducking my bathroom, where I waited a few minutes to make sure he was actually gone before coming back out.

These games, they get old. I just kinda want my normal home life back.

I have to admit, he gained a few points by helping me to unpack the rental car. Though he lost them all again plus ones he didn’t even have by telling me we were out of detergent and I needed to add it to my shopping list. Something you really only expect paying roommates to say.

At any rate, I’m back, things are returning to (relatively) normal, and I will finally have time to do the finer things in life…like sleep.

The 2009 festival is over and done with. Finally.

I don’t mean to be a complainer. But wow. Yeah. This was not a good year for me and the festival. Which strikes me as kind of funny, seeing as how we have received more compliments this year than ever before. Either we had an extraordinarily enthusiastic and happy group this year or the festival was better than I perceived it to be. Possibly a combination of both. You know how it is when you’re in the thick of something…can’t see the forest for the trees.

Right now we’ve all ended up back in our respective rooms here at the Edgewick. I know I should be taking a nap of some sort, but it’s warm both outside and inside and all I seem to want to do is stroll around in shorts and a t-shirt…sans bra…and enjoy my last bit of time in Washington. It’s funny, after driving 800 miles to be here, the one thing that I enjoy doing every year is just kicking back and being here. I would be perfectly OK with never leaving my patio, or even this general area. I know this frustrates a number of people, but whatev. It’s my vacation and I’ll be a lazy bitch if I want to.

Bring the Lolz

Sharing a hotel room with Rachel and Gusta has proven to be a highlight of this year’s festival. We were up until sometime around 3:30am this morning…well, we were all in our respective beds with most of the lights off…but we were awake and cracking one another up with conversations ranging from crocheted cock rings to Gusta becoming a total hausfrau. The most epic moments centered around Rachel, her boyfriend, and their sex life. I tell you, young love is about as entertaining as it gets. At one point, a brief discussion came up regarding anal sex. Rachel declared that she was going to get a tattoo on her ass that said “No Exit”. By the time she realized what she’d said, Gusta and I were past the point of being able to breathe and form coherent words. At which time she informed us that she wears chain mail directly over her anus.

She actually said anus. That word is an automatic WIN.

There was also a discussion regarding droopy foreskin, but that’s a conversation best left for Not Online.

So far, every evening has been like a big slumber party, which it sorta is every year, but with Jared in the other room this week, we’re doing less multimedia entertaining and more self-entertaining. With great results as you can see. I think Gusta’s going to strangle me, though, if I call him Mike Nesmith just one more time. But seriously, wait until you see the pics. I’m going to Photoshop a knit cap onto his head in every shot. You’ll understand.

This year Jared and I both seem to have enough energy to just jump right into tonight’s post-fest party with gusto. Usually we’re late as hell, we drink very little, and we zone out back on our patio instead of whoop it up with others. But this year? This is the year of one of us ending up naked in the middle of North Bend Way.