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The 7:07 a.m. alarm didn't so much happen, so I didn't get on the road to Valdosta until 10:30ish. With only two nonexistent roads and one missing directive, MapQuest got me to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
go4it's pad in just under two hours.
She gave me a lovely candleholder and notepad (how am I drowning in paper yet perpetually hurting for it, I'll never know) and then we set off to Atlanta, discussing pairings, Justin (on his own and with respect to JC), my Harry/Remus pain, designating the car a no-shame zone, hurricanes, the batshit craziness of fandom and people who don't like Space Cowboy. Alas, the singing discussion didn't happen soon enough, but we both did it under our breaths for several songs. If our asses had to sit still, there's just so much the rest of you can be reasonably expected to do in the face of Up Against The Wall. Am I wrong?
Made it to Atlanta exactly in time with the landing ofgiddyupnow's plane, so the timing ended up being perfect. We ducked into that bastion of Southern roadside dining, the Cracker Barrel, where our waiter teased with sweet potato casserole, we all agreed food on a stick is better with surprising consistency, without_me and Schiz did the hard sell for West Coast conversion, and then they let me loose in the candy section of the gift store. Does twenty-two look like it cultivates that level of responsibility? Because it doesn't.
Schiz gave me another Kirk/Spock zine as my gag gift. I have no idea what the quality, if any, of its contents is, but the cover is a color illustration that features leopards in tall grass and the protagonists in gaping robes. The whole tableau is very Sigfried and Roy, and I am happy to live in a world where such things exist.
Frosty pit-stop at Wendy's as A's never had. My father called as we were getting back in the car and sounded dismayed that his birthday package of a postcard, a book of Oriental wisdom, and a set of flash cards for mixing different drinks hadn't arrived yet. After which we had this surreal little exchange:
Father: What's going on in Mississippi?
Jules: There's a concert charity event for Mississippi scholarships.
Father: Speaking of which, whatever happened with that group you liked so much?
Jules: That's actually why I'm going, because one of them will be there.
Father: What kind of performing does he do, does he play an instrument?
Jules: Well, he can, but mostly he's a singer.
Father: Oh, so he's like Mick Jagger?
Jules: *barely keeps from howling with laughter* Yes. Just like Mick Jagger, dad.
Gained an hour of birthday with the change to Central Time. A poster promoting Stars Over Mississippi featuring porn shoot!Lance greeted us upon our triumphant arrival, a full thirteen hours after I originally got in my car this morning. A helped round out my redneck birthday with a bag of gas station tortilla chips, *NSYNC temporary tattoos (and you don't know how tempted I am to stick one on each cheek tomorrow) and *NSYNC streamers (!!), which I hanged with tape from the ever-resourceful Schiz. Mississippi is... mostly like I expected. There are evangelical road signs, lots of trees, very thick accents, but mostly I can't believe I'm in Mississippi. It's already a story I'm gonna tell people for a long time to come.
go4it's pad in just under two hours.She gave me a lovely candleholder and notepad (how am I drowning in paper yet perpetually hurting for it, I'll never know) and then we set off to Atlanta, discussing pairings, Justin (on his own and with respect to JC), my Harry/Remus pain, designating the car a no-shame zone, hurricanes, the batshit craziness of fandom and people who don't like Space Cowboy. Alas, the singing discussion didn't happen soon enough, but we both did it under our breaths for several songs. If our asses had to sit still, there's just so much the rest of you can be reasonably expected to do in the face of Up Against The Wall. Am I wrong?
Made it to Atlanta exactly in time with the landing of
giddyupnow's plane, so the timing ended up being perfect. We ducked into that bastion of Southern roadside dining, the Cracker Barrel, where our waiter teased with sweet potato casserole, we all agreed food on a stick is better with surprising consistency, without_me and Schiz did the hard sell for West Coast conversion, and then they let me loose in the candy section of the gift store. Does twenty-two look like it cultivates that level of responsibility? Because it doesn't.Schiz gave me another Kirk/Spock zine as my gag gift. I have no idea what the quality, if any, of its contents is, but the cover is a color illustration that features leopards in tall grass and the protagonists in gaping robes. The whole tableau is very Sigfried and Roy, and I am happy to live in a world where such things exist.
Frosty pit-stop at Wendy's as A's never had. My father called as we were getting back in the car and sounded dismayed that his birthday package of a postcard, a book of Oriental wisdom, and a set of flash cards for mixing different drinks hadn't arrived yet. After which we had this surreal little exchange:
Father: What's going on in Mississippi?
Jules: There's a concert charity event for Mississippi scholarships.
Father: Speaking of which, whatever happened with that group you liked so much?
Jules: That's actually why I'm going, because one of them will be there.
Father: What kind of performing does he do, does he play an instrument?
Jules: Well, he can, but mostly he's a singer.
Father: Oh, so he's like Mick Jagger?
Jules: *barely keeps from howling with laughter* Yes. Just like Mick Jagger, dad.
Gained an hour of birthday with the change to Central Time. A poster promoting Stars Over Mississippi featuring porn shoot!Lance greeted us upon our triumphant arrival, a full thirteen hours after I originally got in my car this morning. A helped round out my redneck birthday with a bag of gas station tortilla chips, *NSYNC temporary tattoos (and you don't know how tempted I am to stick one on each cheek tomorrow) and *NSYNC streamers (!!), which I hanged with tape from the ever-resourceful Schiz. Mississippi is... mostly like I expected. There are evangelical road signs, lots of trees, very thick accents, but mostly I can't believe I'm in Mississippi. It's already a story I'm gonna tell people for a long time to come.
