The Renn Faire yesterday was fun, once we finally got there and consumed a few beers. The preparations and drive were… stressful. What should have been a 2-hour trip took 4 hours, half of it spent in stop-and-go traffic on the last couple miles before the Faire. It was also more crowded than I’ve ever seen. Lesson learned: always go early, and never go during Oktoberfest weekend.
We didn’t see any of the people we had hoped to see there, with the exception of dreamtigress. Where was everyone?
Another lesson learned: tens of thousands of people suddenly together in a normally sparsely populated area does not make cell-phone networks happy.
Today’s weekly gloom comes in the form of a mild dejection about potential squandered and opportunities missed.
“Everybody’s story is more interesting than mine…” – Linford Detweiler
I’ve told you all my stories, you know. It didn’t take long. Now I want someone new to listen and tell me they are interesting. Interest is my drug of choice. Street prices are up though, and I’ve little to trade – I stopped writing stories before I evern began. Others penned me and now I am last year’s bestseller, bright-red “50% Off” sticker on my flimsy spine. I feel like I am already over, and I don’t even know what kind of story I wanted to be.