God, where to start? I've been feeling like I wanted to do an entry for days, but this is the first chance I've had.

Saturday:

Gift exchange in FDL, followed by LARP. Let's talk about the LARP. I was right, I was fully conscious for the whole thing. I did a lot of little roleplaying things that I was kind of proud to have thought of, but then each character I ended up playing did one glaringly stupid thing that more or less destroyed vast steaming chunks of plot in all directions. Ellen got half her clan killed, and Lady Bain wandered into the Tremere Chantry and walked off with their plot device and also a player's favorite character. So. Apparently, I can't blame my LARP stupidity on the "day starting at 6am followed by 8 hours of waitressing" thing. I am in fact dumber than toast.

Don't get me wrong. I had a lot of fun. It was overall the most fun I've had LARPing yet. This not working on Game Day is definitely something I need to look into. But I was directly responsible for three characters not being around anymore. D'oh!

Sunday:

11:45: Ana realizes she won't have time to write about everything right now; it's time to go to work.

11:50: Ana can't find her keys. As is her custom, she grabs D's keys instead.

12:01: In the car. It occurs to Ana that although D's keys work admirably at locking the apartment, and they're just the thing for making the car go, there is one thing they cannot do. They can not lock up the bookstore at 4:30.

12:02: That's not a problem. Someone opened the store, and she will still be there when Ana gets there. Ana will borrow whomever's store keys, and drop them off at her house after the store is closed.

12:20: Ana arrives at the bookstore. No one opened the store today.

12:21: Ana pays 50 cents at the restaurant next door to establish that Mary, the manager, is not home.

12:22-12:34 : Ana turns all her available cash into quarters ($3.00) and goes to the payphone. She curses all her coworkers for being married women, presumably listed in the phonebook under their husbands' names. Nicole's phone was disconnected. There were two possible Shirleys, but neither one was home. None of the three Sheilas listed were the one Ana was looking for. Linda's last name isn't Smith, but it might as well have been. There were far too many Lindas to call them all, and our intrepid heroine was running out of change.

12:35: Ana realizes that if Mary is not home, she is probably at her other job.

12:45: Mary is most definitely NOT at her other job. Yesterday was her last day working there.

12:47: One more call to Mary. Ana explains the situation in detail to Mary's answering machine, ending with, "Well, I don't know what else I can do, so I'm going home now."

1:03: In the car, Ana ponders a "reset day" button. The last 24 hours are null and void. Let's just all go back to bed, and try again. This probably isn't practical, though, because everyone would be having stupid days at different times. Civilization would come to a screeching halt, as we all spent the rest of our lives trying to get a nonstupid day at the same time. Maybe instead, everyone should be allowed one day every six months or so when it's ok to just leave your brain at home. Then, so no one else accidentally gets sucked into your hell day, wear a sign around your neck: "For your own personal wellbeing, please do not approach the moron. No good will come of any interactions you attempt with this person today."

1:20: There's an answering machine message from Mary. "The store is open now, but I can't stay. Please come back as soon as you can." Stupid Day: The gift that keeps on giving. Have I mentioned yet that the bookstore is 20 MILES away from my house?

So, I worked 2 hours on Sunday, and spent almost as long driving between home and the bookstore. The only good thing was that closing took no time at all. Oh, looky! Only $216 to count! I'm not going to vacuum, I'm not going to clean the tobacco counter, and I'm not going to straighten the magazine rack! Woohoo!

Also Sunday:

I realized again why I don't really like computer bridge. A bunch of us have been getting together every Sunday night to play. If we went within 100 miles of an International Bridge Tournament, we'd all be tarred and feathered. The table talk is totally out of control.

(First a little setup, for the people who don't play bridge. Clockwise around the table, it's Josh, Bill, Me, Cat. Your partner is the person sitting directly across from you. During the bidding process, you and your parter are carrying out an elaborate conversation in bridgespeak, to try and determine if you have enough points between you to make a contract, and what suit this contract should ideally be in. If you and your partner reach a contract, and then when playing it out don't make as many tricks as you had determined you could make, this is called being "set." That's a bad thing.)

Josh: One club.

Bill :One heart.

Me: Pass. Oh my god, Pass.

Cat: Two hearts.

Josh: Three clubs.

Bill: Four hearts.

Josh: Come on. Bid to me.

Me: You really don't want that.

Josh: Sure I do. Just go with it.

Me: I don't want to go with it. You know where you're going? Straight to Setsville, that's where. Pass, I tell you! Pass pass pass!

Cat: Pass.

Josh: Five clubs.

For the rest of the night, we were all making Setsville jokes. Josh found a job in Setsville, and got married. Cat had four kids in Setsville. There are no rubbers in Setsville, you see. (That either made sense to you, or it didn't. If it didn't, just let it go, because it would take far too long to explain.) I sent my kids to Setsville U.

The point is, you never get to have silly conversations in computer bridge. And in a lot of ways, the ongoing conversation is my favorite part of the game.

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