“Are you playing the town drunk?” “I’m actually supposed to be the mayor!”

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On our first day in San Diego, we had some free time in the afternoon, so we decided to pay a visit to Old Town to see what life in Ye Olde San Diego was like: as it turns out, it was full of gift shops and booze, so I don’t know why historians keep going on and on about how tough things were for settlers. No, there wasn’t a churro stand on EVERY corner, but that’s really less a hardship and more of a motivation to walk the twenty or so steps to the next one.

A child’s fantasy? What with the horrorshow rusted marionettes, I was thinking more along the lines of “A Child’s Nightmare”.

Near one of the churro stands, we saw the “Old Town House of Jerky & Root Beer”, which is what I will assume that settlers ate and drank exclusively when they weren’t busy cramming tubes of cinnamon-sugared fried dough into their face holes. I believe in authentic experiences, so I was definitely game to sample their wares. Upon entry, the twenty-something year old shopkeep eyeballed us, gave us a knowing smile, and said “You guys are nerds, aren’t you? I can just tell, there aren’t a lot of nerds around here.” Well, yes, Jason was wearing a Green Lantern shirt, but I still feel that “nerd” is a strong word from someone dressed in full 1820s regalia.

It was a particularly educational day to visit the donkeys as they were less in a “Let’s teach people about history” mood and more in a “Let’s have state-protected donkey sex through the gate that separates us” mood. It was also educational to hear how parents explained donkey business to their children. We thought about panning for gold, but figured we’d have better luck for the same money panning out of a bottle of Goldschläger, and, as a bonus, we’d smell minty-fresh afterward.

The whole time we were in Old Town, Jason talked up his candle-dipping prowess, bragging about how he’d received an award in elementary school for “best candle” and that when he burned it, it brought peace to warring nations and appears next to the word “beauty” in some of the world’s finer illustrated encyclopedias. But when we got to the candle dipping shop, he utterly refused to defend his title in the Candle Dipping Battle of the Century, so I feel like he may have exaggerated his skills somewhat. Unfortunately, I’ll never know.

After extensive biological and anatomical testing, I regret to announce that our findings are… inconclusive. This thing may or may not be human.

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I’m 30 now, and with age comes a sense that I have been falling behind on my creative projects, be they writing or otherwise. It’s not so much a sense as it is the ability to read the giant list of “Things I will blog about”, some of which are now a year overdue, and look about the house and see a number of started and quasi-abandoned projects: apparently the act of making a list does not actually move me toward the end goal. Moments of adulthood and stick-to-it-tiveness come in fits and spurts, and I might be in the middle of one now.

In December, I made a Sasquatch spoon rest and indicated that I’d post a picture of it once it had been fired. BLAM.

 

Mostly, it’s shinier. I hope you weren’t holding your breath this whole time!

The easiest thing down, only 35 more items on my “to blog” list, a table to varnish, cushions to dye, and an assload of napkins to sew and embroider, plus exciting day-to-day tasks like cleaning, laundry, errands that should be fast but somehow take forever, an internship to do, a home business to start, a wedding to plan, and potentially a new paying job on the line. Holy monkeySasquatch!