Into a Writer's Head

No, I'm sorry, I'm not with the FBI...

But I swear, the next unknown person to ask me that will receive the following response, "No, sorry, I'm actually with ATF". Maybe that way they will stop trying to give me "presents". To further explain, mizzz_k and I went to the Bumbershoot Festival yesterday. Twice actually. Once in the morning to get passes for the mainstage show, and once in the evening for the mainstage show went went to get passes for. Confused yet? The show in discussion was Marc Broussard, an amazing singer out of Louisiana (about 100 miles away from New Orleans). This guy has ENERGY. I'd been waiting months to see him live, and it was well worth the wait. Definitely, if you're looking for a great new musician, check him out. Anywho, in the middle of his set, some strange man standing right behind Ms. K practically yells in her ear something to the effect of, "Do you see him?!" Ms. K, perverse woman that she is, yells back, "No I don't!" Apparently this was the secret code to the man, because he came back about two minutes later to ask if we were FBI. When we responded in the negative, he offered us a "present". Having learned early on never to accept presents from strangers, backed up and said, "Thanks, but no thanks". But next time? Next time I'm with the CIA, or ATF, or something equally impressive.

On other fronts, I hate when my mother is right. I'm sure many of you can agree with this feeling. Even worse is having to admit she's right. That part always sucks. Mom tells me that she always knows when she's right, because I turn all red in the face. Nice to know I'm so easy to read. She knows me too well. It's scary sometimes. Again, proven when I went to visit this morning. She came into the kitchen and said, "I've got to tell you something and you're not going to be happy." Here I am thinking she's going to tell me she's moving far away. Or worse, that someone died. But no, she's informing me that instead of our annual Thanksgiving trip to Whistler, her and my step-dad are going to Mexico. Without me and my sister. Which means I'm alone for Thanksgiving. *sigh* Not that I feel it's all that important of a holiday. If you really want to get me started I can go on about how it's mostly all made up to make us feel better about annihalating almost an entire race of people. Half my family hates turkey (unless it's sliced for sandwiches). The other half would rather have Chinese food anyway. It's more the principle of it. Ms. K, in all her best friend abilities, worked the guilt angle all day long. I've got good friends.

So there you have it. I'm not in a secret government agency, my mother is right, and I'm home alone for Turkey Day. Sounds like an accomplished weekend, all things considered. Also, tomorrow is the first day of school, so things may be a bit wonky for a while. Bear with me please.

posted by Erin @ 11:43 AM