Monday, August 27, 2007

project 365 #236: party in leicester

So, yeah, still no internet at home. I can't seem to find the sticky note with the magical phone number of the actual human being who I talked with a couple of weeks ago and I'm just so. fucking. tired. of dealing with this that I'm taking a brief outrage hiatus. Tomorrow, perhaps my fury will be back up enough where I go over to the Charter office and stage a sit in until they give me 6 months of free cable or something. Because this is way beyond "ridiculous, horrible and insane" and deeply into "if I was a lawyer I'd be filing suit right around now" territory.

Big fun weekend with S and others. On Friday night S & J & I ended up going to a fairly odd party somewhere in the wilds where Emma meets Leicester. That was a strange hour or two as parties where you really only know one person (and that person is our, uh, deeply eccentric friend A) so often are. The hostess was the seed lady: the person who makes up those odd little plastic bags of seeds one finds around Asheville in places like the laundromat and Earthfare bulletin board with small rope handles and stamped labels that include suicide prevention information on them as well as inviting one to visit what she calls her "Hippie Ranch," which is, I think, where we were on Friday night. Hard to tell, sometimes. She did have chickens. We know she was the seed lady although first she told us she wasn't; but we figured that out due to the seed packets that were scattered about - also, A had told us she was. Later, after our friend J had agreed to wear an apron - a frilly apron - she thawed a bit and allowed as to how she was, in fact, the seed lady. She also called us three random chicks, as in, when we got there she said in tones of vague scorn, "Oh look. Three random chicks." Mmmm hmmm. My horoscope on Friday, as we recall, said that my friends would talk me into something weird - I wasn't the one who wanted to go to this party.

Saturday I tried to take S & C to an art opening at the park. That would have been really fun if it had in fact been happening but unfortunately I was a week early. So we had hamburgers instead and hung out at S' picnic table for a while.

Sunday S & C & K & I went tubing. Yes, again. We wanted to try it in the rain this time, go figure. And it was fun again, although we didn't go for as long, due partly to the weather and partly to the counterintuitive fact that the water level was way lower than it had been the week before despite the rain. My advice for you intrepid tuber wannabes, by the way, is that if you are driving to the Green River and it's storming and there's lightning and thunder and so on yet you persevere anyway, don't spend an hour huddled under the bridge debating whether or not it's going to rain more. It is. You might as well get into the water straight off instead of waiting for it to get itself together to really rain on you. Who cares, anyway? So you get wet - hello. That's why you're there. It was great fun anyway and we all came back to my house and made a huge yummy feast and big fun was had by all.

So, other than the damn internet, good weekend. Damn Charter. Fuck Charter. Charter sucks. And so on, ad infinitum nauseam.

1 comment:

haskell said...

The volume of flow on the Green River is dependent on how much water they decide to let out of the Lake Summit dam on a given day. I wish there were some way to know before driving out there, but I think all you can do is call the tube rental places. One time I went it was so shallow I ended up walking the whole way.

But next time you go, please call me. My Chesapeake retriever loves swimming the Green River!