amorpheus

I woke up in Trenton yesterday, specifically in the Steffan's Bed district, which is one pace from my weekend home of Sydsylvania. I lay there for a minute or so as I tried to remember the previous night. Kat was in mourning for Mitch Hedberg, while Mike and I wanted to wait until Monday to be sure that his death wasn't just an April Fools joke. After taking in a screening of Sin City, Mike bugged us to come up with something to do, apparently forgetting that any time we do anything it's because he or Steffan tells us to. I fell asleep while Mike was lighting matches and trying to get a round of The Match Game going. Kat was Charles Nelson Reilly because she was the one wearing glasses.

Having remembered all of that, I looked up what MODAM stood for (Mobile Organism Designed for Aggressive Maneuvers), to ensure that I did indeed learn something new every day. Then I set out for the rest of my day. I brought along an umbrella, but I didn't count on the wind that made trying to hold an umbrella an excersize in futility. It's not that I mind the wind or the rain so much, as long as the weather picks one of them and sticks with it.

I arrived in Hoboken later than I had hoped, but tried my best to entertain Joanna while I was there. Then it was off to the SGNY open call. I'm still new to the site, so I didn't know anyone at all involved with Suicide Girls and I hadn't been to any events, and I also almost never go to bars, so there were a lot of things that were unfamiliar about this situation and I was as nervous as I was wet. Still, I was determined to meet some people. Before I even reached the bar, I greeted someone who I saw on the street wearing an SG t-shirt. I realized a couple of moments later that he probably didn't know who I was or why I was talking to him, but maybe he figured it out when we both turned into the same bar.

I arrived at the bar earlier than I had expected. The only people there were the guy with the t-shirt (Legionnaire) and his girlfriend (Toothpick) who was tending bar. I started drying my hair, then explaining that I really don't usually do that at bars, but I shouldn't have bothered, because shortly after I meet anyone I end up looking like a complete freak or a complete loser. Either way, it gives everyone that nice feeling of completeness.

It wasn't long before other people started to arrive. I decided I would introduce myself to anyone who looked nice and/or cute (two virtues that too often don't coincide). Of course, this included pretty much everyone there. So in this way, I met a lot of very nice people. I had a wonderful time, and there's so much I could write about, but instead of going on and on, I will restrict myself to these highlights:

- They played Veruca Salt.
- A pretty girl kissed me.
- When discussing the death of Pope John Paul (to be succeeded by Pope George Ringo), I told someone who was being disparaging, "Watcha watchou say abouta da Popa!" and someone (I didn't catch his name) chimed in, "Da Popa he issa so nice-a!"

Today, my little brother showed me some of his Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I once thought that Yu-Gi-Oh had no redeeming value at all, but what I didn't realize was that the cards were written in the most poetically broken English. The next time I am meditating, I will contemplate this passage from the card "Magic dragon with wings":

"Fairy is sing.Powerful strength is charging the world that maens all the life,ghost so much as skeleton."

::Gong::