Sunday, October 12, 2008

The coast, mom, the coast!

A lot has happened since the last time I wrote.  I know people are always saying that, but this time, I swear, it's really true.  

All right, let's start with What I Did Before I Went Motorcycle Riding: went camping, almost invaded a state prison, found this sign on the back of a sign warning us that it was a FELONY to transport alcohol or drugs onto prison property, laughed uproariously, were repaid for our good humor by getting rained on rather excessively, played Never Have I Ever, and marvelled that eight people camping could have eight iPhones and one prototype Googlephone, when *I* was one of the campers and owned neither.  I have a Razr.  An old one.  It runs on two tiny elves banging rocks together to create sparks.

Leaving Morley in San Francisco sucked.  This made it better:

Then on Thursday, I arrived in LA after a quick detour (not really) to Fresno to teach a ance workshop which was awesome.  The house was awesome, my students were awesome, Tanjora Tribal is the bomb.  My hosts were so much fun and used to play in a goth band together, named Shroud.  You can still buy their music on iTunes even though Lydia no longer has stuffed bats sitting on her coffee table.

On Friday, Justin and I left for the 200-mile drive up Highway 1 to Ragged Point, CA, which is far away from everywhere except maybe San Luis Obispo and Hearts Castle, so I guess not that far away from some places, including an elephant seal birthing ground.  Apparently elephant seals slough their skins, which is both probably responsible for the old selkie legends about seals who could remove their skins to turn into people, and one of the most disgusting things I've ever heard.  Apparently the whole area, rather unglamorously, smells of rotting seal meat during moulting season.

On the way, we passed Solvang, CA, a quainte tourist town (I squealed, "It's so cuuuute," then added, darkly, "Deliberately.").  we stopped in a bakery to buy, you guessed it, Danishes, and saw these cookies:
They also had Obama ones.  We were tempted to buy some as a naughtily ironic prank for the bride and groom of the wedding, spreading them out on my naked body and the like, but they were $2 each.  Also, the girl behind the counter told us that she put a little vote into a jar for each cookie she sold.  In horror, we asked if she could put a vote in the other jar if we bought a cookie for one candidate, not wanting to vote for McCain even in a Danish bakery.  She said yes, so that wasn't a huge deterrant, but the money was.

The wedding was kind of okay, given that the scenery looked like this:

You know, if you like that kind of thing.  As it was, hijinks ensued.  I would tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you.

1 comment:

erin said...

There is a standard Ultimate (Frisbee) party move called the shark, in which you strip one team member naked, stick a disc between his or her butt cheeks, and carry him/her in a Superman-like pose through the party. I think that would be an appropriate use for the McCain cookies, if you could find small enough butt cheeks.

Unfortunately, I could not find any pictures on Google, even after I turned off "moderately safe search".

In other cheeky news, you might appreciate this:
Medieval Babes