Not This Weekend, but The One Before

[opabinia]

I’d better write about last weekend before this weekend, or I’ll fall behind. [Too late. – Ed]

There was a small party here on Friday night. It was mellow, comfortable, and fairly quiet. It was also liberally sprinkled with beer. That was the best-behaved crowd of lushes I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t believe the number of empties the next day. That much beer usually results in at least one uncalled-for ass grab or humorous shouting match or property damage event.

Fluffy got spoiled entirely rotten again. Saturday, she got two crayfish and three apple snails. The crayfish didn’t know what hit them (except that it was big and clumsy); the snails lasted overnight, but did not survive the morning. They were assimilated while sadira and I had breakfast. I am very glad Fluff figured out that apple snails are good to eat (it took her some trying and thinking). They can be grown quickly; and unlike goldfish, big nightcrawlers, and crayfish, they can be bred in large numbers in a small space. Arlington Apple Snail Farm plans are complete.

My Own Private Idaho, which the girl (human, not lungfish) and I watched on Saturday evening, was something else. I felt such a strong aversion to, and pity for, River’s character! The shape of his hair was all funny in a new way every time he woke up.

Sunday: dinner at Kabob’n’Curry in Providence with jhimm and spookycam, followed by drinks at Olives with the same good company. I tried, and rejected, a Midori-containing Martini. Too sugary. :P Sadira did herself in by ingesting a Lemon Drop prepared with nothing but Molecular Biology Grade absolute Ethanol. I tried it. It tasted like fire.

Monday was gorgeous. We decided that the best thing to do with great weather is go to a pretty place and eat lobsters, so we returned to Rockport. These were the lobsters we chose:

Here is how we spent the last few minutes of our lobsters’ lives:

Ever try to flip someone off while wearing a lobster? I didn’t think so.

The puny little wooden stick you get with your sea-bug leaves too much to be cracked open, sometimes explosively, by hand. Oh – I almost forgot: Sadira now knows where lobsters keep their gills. Biology is awesome.

After lunch, which involved getting covered in green, congealed, boiled haemolymph, I tossed lobster scraps to New England’s best-fed seagull.

Afterwards, we went to the quarry again. What a fantastic place.

The water level was about five feet higher than it was on our previous visit.

(Compare to photograph of very big rock here.)

The Assemblage 23 show on Monday night was weak. The sound was abysmal, the vocals were tone deaf. The only good thing was seeing lots of friends.

Shit, it’s 2am. [It really was. That’s why I didn’t finish the entry when I wanted to. The funny thing is that it’s 2am again right now. – Ed]

Comments

[jhimm.livejournal.com]

i miss rockport.
i miss the quarry.

i miss the north shore something fierce.

[sbazzy.livejournal.com]

Ever try to flip someone off while wearing a lobster? I didn’t think so.

hmph. you caught me mid-flip.

[frederic.livejournal.com]

It's sort of like the challenge I gave someone at Ceremony once: try to frown and look unhappy for 30 seconds during an Erasure song. It's impossible, I told them (well, unless you despise Erasure). I was right - although having someone stare at you as you try to frown is probably laughter-inducing enough...