Giftmas was extra magical this year. I launched my first tree, found last summer curbside-sad while on an alley jog through East Isles.
Rob liked his Lucha Libre mask.
Joe was skeptical of his gift,
but pleasantly surprised!
Mom scandalized yuletide by gifting Greg a reindeer part.
But she made up for it with the punching nun:
Yesterday I saw my first llama pageant, an annual event at the Minnesota State Fair and now, inevitably, a tradition for me of hilarity and wildly imaginative kids and their decked out llamas. Here are a few of the notable:
Frog Prince llama—winner of the Intermediate division.
Garden llama has shoes!
Eeyore llama looked great but was having panic attacks. Mer.
This is a terrible picture of Viking Ship llama, but it was fantastic (and champion of the Senior division). Its legs are the ocean (with fish!), and the boat on its back has movable paddles. Stunning.
Mickey Mouse llama was scary. Never put an animal in a white hood. Just don’t.
Just when I thought my evening couldn’t get any better, I saw QR code crop art:
…which takes you to a psychedelic video about seeds:
Thank you, MN State Fair. Thank you.
Roaming the Lake Street Savers, I spied my first Jerry in the wild. I had to buy it, of course, and of course planned to send it to Everything Is Terrible’s Maguire Watch, but now I kind of want to keep it. It’s so… alluring. And magical. It really ties the room, my apartment and whole life together.
If you are not familiar with Everything Is Terrible, what’s wrong with you?
In other news, I love the Lake Street Savers. All sorts of creeps and weirdos leave special gifts.
I found her this way, honest.
I have a hard time relaxing. Every hour is structured, how else will life and death get done? and when the warm weather comes and wants my sweat, I kinda freak out. Fun is so much fun, but the sun, so unproductive.
Thanks, Sam, for inciting adventure. At 2 a.m. we sneak on a riverboat with a bindle of beer to cruise the Mississippi while jigging to a jug band and listening to a lecture on intellectual property and stories about riverfolk. The captain inquires over loudspeaker, Do teenagers even listen to Joy Division anymore? and announces that he’s a wedding officiant, so if anyone wants to get married—right—now—just let him know.
The banks of the river in darkest night are otherworldly, but that’s just an expression.
This is, in fact, the world that I live in.
