all of my friends
Jun. 28th, 2010 03:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauralhWent to Larrabee State Park on Saturday with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvet and whip_poor_will. It was a pretty decent drive, and it cleared up right as we got there. We sat at a picnic table for a bit, had grapes, then took a short hike to the shore. We turned left instead of right at a crucial part, and instead of a beach ended up on a rocky cliff. Which had no kids screaming and running on it, for obvious reasons. So that was awesome.
We sat in the sun and explored a bit before heading up to Fairhaven to see Pamela Ribon read from her new book, Going In Circles. It's a lot darker than her previous books, but still funny. (I only just started reading her again this year, but I'd read devotedly from 1999-2003.) We stopped at Boulevard Park, where we made fun of all the fat people in Bellingham, and also the hippies. This one guy literally climbed a tree then hung upside-down from it, whereupon his son promptly smacked him with a branch.
Next we went to dinner at a non-authentic-but-tasty Mexican place, where Reg and I split fajitas, and he and Keely wouldn't stop singing "Shaddup You Face." Over and over again. Reg finally had to search Youtube, then watched two versions, and then downloaded to make a ringtone out of the chorus. They kept sending Tweets quoting the song, too.
And then it was time to go to Village Books. Pamie got a homeless guy immediately coming in, who took a little present she had for questioners, and then he mumbled in Russian or something before wandering off. Anyway. She read a chapter, then read from her diary at 17, then fielded questions, then signed autographs. Good times. Only one person asked intrusive divorce questions, but apparently they were less intrusive than the questions last week. Wanh wanh wanh. I had also been reading archives looking for signs of a divorce, and I kind of found them. It's a tricky art, reading between the lines of a public journal/blog. Anyway I figured she didn't write about it for a reason, although I still wouldn't mind knowing what happened. (Like the character in her book, she got married and got divorced over the span of less than two years or so.)
And that was that. I told her about Seattle's Salon of Shame, signed the derby poster (despite my protestations), and took a pic of her signing the next person's item, which was a stuffed dog rather than a book. I sorta wished I'd brought Why Girls Are Weird for her to sign, but oh well. I was glad that Keely and Reg were entertained - although we all had sore butts from sitting in those metal folding chairs. We headed back to the car and drove back to Seattle at about 90mph.
velvet and whip_poor_will. It was a pretty decent drive, and it cleared up right as we got there. We sat at a picnic table for a bit, had grapes, then took a short hike to the shore. We turned left instead of right at a crucial part, and instead of a beach ended up on a rocky cliff. Which had no kids screaming and running on it, for obvious reasons. So that was awesome.We sat in the sun and explored a bit before heading up to Fairhaven to see Pamela Ribon read from her new book, Going In Circles. It's a lot darker than her previous books, but still funny. (I only just started reading her again this year, but I'd read devotedly from 1999-2003.) We stopped at Boulevard Park, where we made fun of all the fat people in Bellingham, and also the hippies. This one guy literally climbed a tree then hung upside-down from it, whereupon his son promptly smacked him with a branch.
Next we went to dinner at a non-authentic-but-tasty Mexican place, where Reg and I split fajitas, and he and Keely wouldn't stop singing "Shaddup You Face." Over and over again. Reg finally had to search Youtube, then watched two versions, and then downloaded to make a ringtone out of the chorus. They kept sending Tweets quoting the song, too.
And then it was time to go to Village Books. Pamie got a homeless guy immediately coming in, who took a little present she had for questioners, and then he mumbled in Russian or something before wandering off. Anyway. She read a chapter, then read from her diary at 17, then fielded questions, then signed autographs. Good times. Only one person asked intrusive divorce questions, but apparently they were less intrusive than the questions last week. Wanh wanh wanh. I had also been reading archives looking for signs of a divorce, and I kind of found them. It's a tricky art, reading between the lines of a public journal/blog. Anyway I figured she didn't write about it for a reason, although I still wouldn't mind knowing what happened. (Like the character in her book, she got married and got divorced over the span of less than two years or so.)
And that was that. I told her about Seattle's Salon of Shame, signed the derby poster (despite my protestations), and took a pic of her signing the next person's item, which was a stuffed dog rather than a book. I sorta wished I'd brought Why Girls Are Weird for her to sign, but oh well. I was glad that Keely and Reg were entertained - although we all had sore butts from sitting in those metal folding chairs. We headed back to the car and drove back to Seattle at about 90mph.
