Beer by the motherfucking Litre
Raven couldn't make the celebration, so we gathered for a beer on the day before the party. In true Raven style, went down to Feierabend. I fucking love that pub. It's clientele tends to be a little pretentious, but being there so early in the day totally set that off. The vibe was chill. I got their darkest beer and since it was my birthday, in full litres as well. Love that shit.
I miss hanging out with that huge bastard every day. It's good to see that we're staying on page. Fucker and I use even the same phrases for shit when we grew into them over 100 miles away from each other. Madness. Duder kept checking his phone and wandering off to the bathroom, but whatever. Good beer and good times. Little did I know the real reason for all this was nigh well constant communication back to the cap hill loc organizin shit.
The supprise
We roll back to the pad in that bizarre element he's got. Magnus and Lilly are on the couch. Chillin a day early because they're in town or some shit. I wasn't too sure what the reason was because 2 litres of beer fuzzes out some damn details. Honestly it was the fucking perfect amount though. I fucking love it. Raven'd come back up asking for me to burn him some cd or another that I'd suggested for him. I rolled into the bedroom and fucking WHAM SUPPRISE BUTTSEKS!
There was a fuck-tonne of people rammed into the bedroom, Dreddgoddess had organized everything for SATURDAY, not Sunday like she'd told me. It was mother-fucking awesome. A whole shit-load of my friends. It's like coming home and finding all of your favorite things just *stocked* up for you and you didn't even know it was coming, even TALI made it. The blast of them yelling at me totally rocked my ass back, it was video'd and watching it was hilarious.
After that I was made to go *search* for my gift, whatever it was that Lish had been reporting back to me over the last 7 months was 'coming along'. I suck at guessing shit. Call it an achilles' heel, but even at Pictionary someone will draw a wallet and I'll think it's a stove. Some business with being too subjectively objective. So I went out about the apartment looking What could it be? Shit, I don't know, why would I? For all I know it could be the hollow horn of a guatemalan cow to drink out of, or an ancient african battle fork. The internet makes all things possible.
So I start looking at book cases, fucking around at the walls, totally missing it, of course, but I was on the hunt for something INSIDE of something else. That would totally be all 'sneaky-style' right? Ummmmm NO! She'd hid the god damn thing in plain sight and shit. On the god damn WALL. I only notice it after nearly looking RIGHT AT IT, and then walking away. Out of the corner of my eye... a blackness I've never seen before. By the fucking gods of metal she'd arranged for another piece of ART.
The gift
The true reason for Lilly and Magnus on the couch in the front room is that Lilly makes the most metal/gothic art form possible. White coloring on black paper, shading slowly into existence the picture. It is, quite possibly, one of the most crazy/fantastic things I've ever seen in it's execution alone. I was so taken aback by the critically sweet look of it's initial impact on my eyes that I couldn't even take in the aspect of *what* was put into form until, later, after I'd stared at it from afar for an hour and a half, I'd drank it in long enough to be able to look at each portion of it separately
Love, Sex and Ridiculousness is written in one corner. The other three each contain a picture, chosen by Lish, called from darkness by Lilly's hand, that represent each of these three concepts.
Love is a picture of me wrapped around Lish's thigh. I was torn when I let Lish keep this picture. Grrl has a tendency to find the deepest thing she knows that makes you uncomfortable and just keep nailing it over and over again. It's like a mutant power. The pic is admittedly a fantastic capture of me. I'll be honest that, though it pains me to have such cutesy representations of me floating around, Lish's eye for photography -- which is made up in parts of gritty reality, beauty, and a twisted edge -- is so fine that I find myself acquiescing, more often than not, to the next awesome travesty. Whatever she's just snapped goes to her hard drive for permanent record. I've chosen to path my life through anything that challenges me, and finding a way to be comfortable with what she does is a constant challenge. Now it's taken a step further, with this factor of the art that she's given me.
Sex is a picture from one of our many romps. Something early on in our relationship from, perhaps even, before I even moved in with her. A pic from a day that there was snow and I didn't have to
go to work, if I recall correctly. In this corner is showcased a poignant aspect of Lilly's skill. She took two different images and combined them, in order to acquire a larger picture to draw out of blackness. It's truly well done. Lish's ability to test the comfort zone of those around them again brought out well in that it's a nude, nearly porn, depending on if you wish to look at it as such. A challenge to me in allowing it to be taken. A challenge to those who see it, to find the art in it. A challenge to those who can't to not squirm in there being porn in front of them. The whole corner showcases both Lilly and Lish's talents brought together, melded well.
Ridiculousness is a picture that has two aspects two it, or three, or four. It contains for one: a look of cutesy mischievousness that I'm fairly certain would never have been quite so 'emphaticly' full of mischief, had I never met her. It is a perfect choice of expression that, though you'd never know it unless it was pointed out, includes a bit of Lish in it. For second, my dredds have been tied up in a samurai top-knot. A style I'd explored out of it's cheerleader feel, into a more male representation (through purely in how I *wear* it, in which wearing is how I feel about it brings about how those who see me perceive it). It's ridiculous because unless you see it in person, you'll never *get* how it actually is meant to look. Yet another showcase of how Lish challenges a person. It looks seriously ridiculous. It colors the feel of how you take in the Love corner to bring out the overall ridiculous of someone hugging a thigh (though, again, one might need to ask to know that Lish's thigh is in it). It, also, changes the feel of the nude, in that the expressions resemble each other to a degree, thus highlighting that aspect of how I felt when the nude picture was taken. Sort of a languorous sexy mischief.
There was absolutely no way I could take all that in at a first glance, as well. Only after the rest of the night passed, could I return and absorb the shock of this gift and see how it all worked together for me as a whole. The better part of 2 and a half hours passed staring at it from the far side of the room before I started to feel how each sector affected the others and created an overall equilibrium that truly did represent the title.
The Feast
So raven had to take off after that for some reason or another, we all slammed into two cars and started raging down to feast. No really, to a FEAST. We went to the Marrakesh, a place we love so much. When you have 6 or more people you can simply order them to bring food, and a selection of awesome dishes makes an appearance. our way down there was interrupted by the Seafair Torchlit parade and we had to shift on the fly to find our way around the collection of fools staring at said chicaneries. Eventually we just parked up on 4th and crossed the parade, Lilly trumping *all of us* by simply striding out into the middle of the parade route and getting the matter handled.
Arriving at Marrakesh, we were met by Mecha-Travis. Trav has totally lost a whole bunch of weight and shifted his style from mellow, jovial, background personality to forward 'sly-hot' well dressed Liev Schreiber clone. Either that or Daniel Craig's cousin, I can't tell which. Dinner was fantastic. We were seated in the back room, which I fucking love. It feels more *exclusive*, though I know this is just an illusion. Lilly and Magnus (who's always a quieter type in a group but has a *presence* -- He always manages to do so much more than just *wear* black... it's more like the color *adorns* him) sat on the floor and ordered the vegetarian selection.
Later in the meal the belli dancer came out. Over the years they've had a whole selection of different girls belli dancing at the Marrakesh. The friend who introduced me to it, 3ric, indicates that it is appropriate to put money in their belt, that this is a part of the whole 'culture'. Somehow this feels like an act that cheapens their performance. True, I never asked the belly dancers back in the circus if this was a part of the culture, but they never mentioned it either.
Unfortunately I was called to dance with her. In any other occasion I'd have said *fuck that* but one is required to embarrass one's self on one's birthday, it is a rule. Never again. Good god, even Magnus belly danced better than I. *shudder*
On the whole dinner was, again, fantastic, leftovers, surprisingly, existed and they were MINE. Next I go, however, I must speak more with Lilly and Magnus. They are worthy people and I feel as if they were left out, on some level.
The movie
After we returned to the final act of birthday organization. Movies! This seems to be a Lish-standard. Also is the standard of watching movies she wouldn't touch with a TEN FOOT BATTLE LANCE. This time? Buckaroo Bonzai. I love this god damn film. John Lithgow attaching tiny jumper cables to his tongue, Jeff Goldbloom inexplicably dressing like a cowboy and standing obscenely taller than anyone else in the cast, Christopher Lloyd actually being overshadowed by other performances, Peter Weller, well before his Robocop days and random dredd aliens umping over walls. End to end, it's just beautiful, with just the right amount of absurd, yet plausible through suspended disbelief to go for that oh-so-cult feel that so many films try for and hack.
I MUST HAVE MA OVATHRUSTA. And coffee.
