The weekend consisted of equal parts loafing around and socializing gregariously. Friday night we celebrated Spike Parsons leaving her job at a stuffy consulting company and signing on with a start-up that does something librarians will find useful. The usual suspects met at the British Bankers Club in Menlo Park for British beer and lots of shouting over loud music. We escaped to the sidewalk and stood around in the warm twilight trying to decide where to eat while the beautiful people flowed around us trying to get to Cafe Borrone behind the BBC. I wore my new black capri-length pants and felt like one of the beautiful people myself. Someone honked at me, and I automatically waved even though I couldn't see who it was.
It was Michael and his friend Karen from Madison, WI. We chatted for awhile as everyone but me had lived in Madison for a few years. Eventually we all crossed the street to look for a Greek restaurant, and they went off to Su Hong's for Chinese. We never found the Greek restaurant so we wandered back across the street to have sushi at Bonsai. We ordered far too much, and all of it was good. I made Tom Becker laugh out loud, not an easy thing to do. Spike bought our dinner, and we bought her San Francisco Symphony tickets for Wednesday night. We stood outside afterwards and discussed conventions as Tom was off to MacHack, and Spike and I are working on Corflu 18.
It sounds dull and ordinary, but it wasn't. Lingering in front of the pub in the soft evening air with the weekend ahead of me was delightful. There was something about having people recognise me while I stood on a street corner, a fortuitous meeting of two sets of friends, combined with the aimless strolls and joking with my dinner companions that imbued the air with a sense of happiness. I was home, among friends, at ease, enjoying a pleasant summer's evening. It was perfect.
Saturday wasn't bad, either. The weather was beautiful, so we pottered around the yard a bit. John mowed the lawn and I used the Grass Hog to raze the shockingly thick weeds along the fence (I kept shouting "RIZZZZZ!" as I sliced through gigantic dandelion stalks). We took numerous popsicle breaks. I read two library books, having finally gotten my San Mateo library card. Keiko and Natasha kept the bug population down in the house. Dixie hid from the Grass Hog.
In the evening I buzzed down to Borrone's to meet Michael, Bill Humphries, and Jessie for coffee. I was late again, despite having no particular reason for it. I had only been seated for a few minutes when I saw a slender, bandana'd person looking through the window at us curiously. I knew it was Jessie and waved her over, but I don't know how I knew it was her. She was cheerful and outgoing, and everyone got along famously. She claims we were much lower key than she was, but I thought it was the other way around. In fact, I thought I was obnoxious and overbearing, but actually I only thought that in retrospect. I hate the idea that I overwhelm some people, and I especially hate the idea that someone might think I have to have the last word. I tend to get excitable and giddy when surrounded by fast-talking, fast-thinking people. Later, I feel like a moron.
But it all turned out peachy. People politely looked through my trip photographs (coming soon to this diary), and asked questions, and I told stories about Japan. Jessie had some good stories about Britain. Michael made us shriek with laughter when he admitted that people always say he looks like Jonathon Frakes of Star Trek: TNG. He actually does, but I'd never realized it until he mentioned it. I'm sure he's sorry he brought it up.
On Sunday Bill and Michael and John and I went to see Titan A.E. which was a beautifully animated movie. Some of it made me feel as though I were truly in space, a wonderful feeling that I rarely get from science fiction movies (Babylon 5 on television worked that magic, but none of the Star Trek movies ever did). The voices were good, although I don't understand why they cast Bill Pullman since his pleasant tenor seemed disconsonant with the visual character. I can recommend it as a matinee wholeheartedly.
Maybe this weekend seemed unusual because it was so normal. I crave normal, I really do. I used to hate it. Then I discovered how hard it is to achieve it. A calm, happy life is not to be taken for granted. Life is always throwing you curveballs, have you noticed? There are so many things that go wrong: people who treat you badly, jobs that suck, relationships that don't work out. There's rent to pay, and addictions to feed, and needs to be met, and expectations that push and pull your life until you figure out what's important to you and let the rest go.
Chaos is easy. Normal is elusive. I dig it the most.
The Index
Next Incarnation