Here is some sand art from the State Fair. I think you know how much I love kitschy art and sand art is rivaled only by decoupage in kitschiness.
So, I guess I'm on a roll with these bar conversation posts.
On Friday night I met some friends out at the Dublin Underground. They just happened to be sitting at a table with Chester. If you've ever lived in Iowa City, chances are, you've seen Chester. He works at Iowa Book and Crook and he's another Iowa City action figure. He is nothing, if not entertaining, so much so, that my friend Ed Gray wrote a song about him. Anyway, I got to the table, and reintroduced myself. He said, "I know you. You used to work at The Mill and you are somehow related to L. Is your name, Mary Anne?"
"No, it's Churlita, and I used to be married to L."
"Oh. Oops," Chester said. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too," I said, cracking myself up. And that there was another situation where one of my ex-boyfriends would tell me it was a good thing I was there to laugh at my own jokes. Hey, if I don't, no one else will. Thank god for me.
Around 10:30, I had to take off for a minute to go get Stinky and take her home. When I got back, all my friends were at the Picador to see some bands. I finally got to meet my friend T.'s new friend and he is just about perfect. I went to order a drink and he stopped me. "What are you having? I'm buying."
"For real? What planet did you say you were from?" I asked in shock and awe.
"I'm from St Louis, why?"
"Because all the men we know in this town, expect us to pay for them."
It was right about at that point when a big gaggle of guys I used to work with at a now defunct establishment called Great Midwestern, (it was where 126 is now) showed up. I'm Myspace friends with their band, but I hadn't seen some of them in a few years. I was talking about it with a guy named J. and he said,
"Actually, I see you running all over town."
"Really? Then how's come you never honk or say hi?"
"Who's to say I haven't, but that you just ignored me and kept on running?" J. countered.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just get all high and spaced out when I run." Man, I've been getting called on my shit a lot lately. Maybe I should start thinking before I speak....Nah.
Once the last band started playing, I was tuckered out and ready to give my friend K. a ride home. We talked about the lack of relationship material in any of the guys we knew and seriously thought about making a pilgrimage to St Louis - the mythical land where men actually pay for things. I also suggested that although I wouldn't be in a serious relationship with any of them, there were a few guys that I might think about making out with. We joked about going on Make Out Quest 2007. Then K. thought we should make a video game out of it. We could choose weapons with which to fight off all the demon, user guys, on our way to the totally hot, totally deserving make out king. When we told our friend C. about it the next day, he thought it sounded like a great game as long as he could be the goal.