Anyway, it's fixed now...and now I can tell of the events from the last few days.
Spent most of Saturday at Roni's place, though she had to leave for reasons I can no longer recall. Since my original plan was to be at Ren Faire on Saturday, she had made other arrangements. I stayed a few more hours, trying to let myself heal (I had been SO tempted to do faire that day anyway...which would have been REALLY dumb, considering how sick I was last Thursday). I finally got myself cleaned up and up to Vacaville to meet with Linda, Amy and Matt. The plan was to spend some time with Linda, crash, and get an EARLY start to the faire site.
Well, I got there easily enough, dodging only occasional traffic on 80, with a small spin out drama slowing things a bit. No one was hurt, but the young lady sitting on the median strip looked like she was having a BAD day. Linda was exhausted...so even though Amy and Matt went out to have dinner to let us have wild monkey sex, the only thing that happened was a sponge bath (Linda is disabled, and couldn't cope with a shower) and lots of serious snuggling.
We actually did get an early start the next day. I got done up in full ren faire drag, and we all proceeded to have a full day at faire. It was hot in vacaville (about 95...in mid-october!), but spirits were high (everyone gets VERY silly on the last day...anachronisms are us!). I kept getting hit on by several very lovely fat ladies with serious bodices (a properly fitted bodice would give ME cleavage, so you can imagine what a chesty BBW can produce!), which amused me no end...it seems the less effort I put into meeting women, the more they seem interested in me. Doesn't quite seem fair...giving boys hormones that make them insane, and then making the satisfaction of those drives contingent upon IGNORING them.
One such was a babe I had encountered at Dicken's Faire at the Cow Palace last December (yes, there is actually a venue called the Cow Palace. Go figure). We had this lovely conversation (then) about Camryn Manheim (we BOTH thought she was both talented and a major babe, and I got to say I had met her. Yes, I was name dropping in a deliberate attempt to flirt with someone cute...so sue me. I hardly EVER get to do that.) This time, I was able remember to ask for her e-mail address...and she gave me that, AND her phone number.
Another babe kept flirting with me all day...I KNOW I know her from somewhere other than faire, but I can't put my finger on it. She was with this guy who I mistook for a boyfriend, but turned out to be a brother...not, they hadn't been doing anything that siblings shouldn't, I just made a stupid assumption. She started flirting with me after an amusing attempt at playing a Digeriedoo produced a sound not entirely unlike an elephant farting (wind instruments are NOT my forte) and we just began joking with one another. By the end of the day she would run into me and kiss me solidly, sneaking a hand into my shirt to teak my pierced nipple. She wound up slipping me BOTH of her email addy's, and a clear indication she wouldn't mind running into me at Folsom Faire (up Grass Valley way). Since I was hoping to go to that to see Linda sing with her group, Jolly Beggar (bawdy a cappella quartet, CD's available ;) I made noises that i wouldn't mind seeing her as well. I suppose my only reluctance with her would be that she smokes...that, and I *really* am not looking for another relationship right now.
By the end of the day I was SO ready to head back to the hotel, especially since we had to do tear down on Monday (I'm on the board of directors for a company that runs two booths there).
Monday was long, hot, sweaty and dusty. There's a rather inelegant phrase for what being around all that dust does to you: Faire Boogers. It's a condition marked by the ejecting of a mud like phlegm substance from the nasal cavities and (occasionally) oral orifice. Sometime you have to assist, i.e. pick your nose. While normally a habit to be hidden (if you are prone to it), on faire sites it's common to see participants/actors digging away without shame...including Queen Elizabeth herself. After ten years of going, I've managed to get over a lot of the conditioning that tends to prevent one from performing this rather loathsome act, but then it requires a conscious effort to NOT do it for a few days afterward (I once totally freaked some male infants idling next to me at a stop light when they tried to shame me with cat calls regarding my unthinking act...and proceeded to dig even deeper, looking them in the eyes. >;).
I thought we'd never get through that day. By the end, when we took a trip to the storage locker to off-load stuff, and stopped by Burger Barf/King to grab some frozen cokes (at this point my throat was so trashed I sounded like Earl Stubbs). Denied! BK is having some sort of seasonal thing where they offer only Black Cherry and Orange, the former so laden with food dye that it LOOKED black, and did similar things to ones tongue. I have granted BK some limited absolution for not having frozen coke, as the Black Cherry actually TASTED like cherry...and anything that was frozen would vastly improve my mood.
We had to rush to Vallejo by 5:30 so Linda could obtain a strange space there. This is the faire's last year in Cowtown...er, Vacaville, which was only a temporary site chosen after the criminal destruction of Black Pointe in Novato for Condos and a Golf Course...which, of course, was desperately needed in Marin County...but I digress. Anyway, the new location is just to the north of Vallejo, some place called American Canyon. It's going to be a permanent site, AND it'll be at least ten degrees cooler.
After that, we all caravanned to a local restaurant for a massive meal...I then drove home, every muscle aching and feeling like there was dust ground into every pore of my body.
I developed some NASTY cramping within the last 30 minutes of the drive, which is Highway 9 as it winds into the Santa Cruz mountains. There were moments when i seriously considered pulling off and running into the redwoods. An Audi and a Subaru wagon both passed me on blind turns (a suicidal act on 9), even though I was averaging 10 miles OVER the speed limit myself (I was MOTIVATED, after all, to get home as fast as humanly possible at that point). I can only hope they both take a header off one of the cliffs one of these days.
I got home, ran inside and...well...you know. Only there was an interesting moment when I was cleaning up afterwards.
Remember that Black Cherry frozen beverage from BK? Well, did you know one of the colors they use for the "black" food dye (more of a really dark purple) is green?
Yup...BRIGHT green. As in, for one brief moment (before I made the connection) I almost panicked, wondering what sort of bacterial agent can turn one's shit that particular color.
After I calmed down from this bit of comedic gastric distress, I went about what I had dreamed about for the previous several hours...a long, hot shower, followed by an even longer hot tub under the redwoods.
On that note, let's end this exercise in TMI...I'll catch up with more abstract musing tomorrow.