Man, I have to stop waiting so long between these damn posts.  Once a month is a terrible update schedule... I forget everything.  My mental sieve is completely incapable of retaining a single grain of time-sand, the most exquisite sand of all, not unlike kitty litter.  Each memory itself is too fine to be held in any meaningful container, but when the feline of experience takes a big fat piss and creates adventure, the time-sand clumps together so that we may observe said time-sand and admire its nugget-like properties.  Here are my recent time-nuggets.

Dagron*Con:

Dragon Con was a wild ride this year.  First off, they didn't let anybody into the con without a badge or a room key for a room in one of the host hotels.  The usual number of gawkers, crowd watchers, and general party dudes (cosplayers dressed as Michaelangelo notwithstanding) was drastically reduced because of this policy, but clever people, or people who were once clever and made friends the right sort of people, had no problem sneaking in and skulking about.  Meet spider 1 and spider 2:

 Spider 1: Obviously not a golfer.

Spider 2: Super green.  He doesn't want one solo cup, he wants all solo cups.

I got in with a little help from a Spartan:

Looks like a crime drama.

And then proceeded to drink a bike bottle half full of vodka (seriously, not a joke) and half full of monster.  The perfect social lubricant, and riding that high, Quonulous and myself began to weave our way through the crowd and play the pointing game.  The rules are simple:  Spider 1 picks any person they see and points at them and Spider 2 must go and engage in earnest conversation, usually around 5 minutes as a target.  Lets just say that I met a lot of people and had a lot of bizarre conversations.  I present to you a few of my favorite shots without commentary:

Thanks, Quon.

Also, if you even happen to be at Checkers at 3am, wearing an eye patch, and try to approach a group of people to talk to them by starting in with conversation about how you are missing an eye, and maybe, just maybe, some jerk decides to call you out and say you are faking with your patch, the best strategy (I have found) is to get really indignant and outraged about him calling attention to your disability.  Especially when you rally crowd support in your favor.  Just saying, if that ever happens, that might be the best bet.

*Wayne's World alternate ending woodelley woo effect*

Mobile Social:

So I did it.  I broke down and finally betrayed my own sensibilities.  I participated in a group bike ride (with a caveat).  

I'm sure all of you know why I hate Critical Mass.  I'm sure that, me being me, and me understanding that I'm me and what that means for the people around me, you've heard me say "don't get me started on Critical Mass" or "I don't want to talk about Critical Mass right now", which is immediately followed by me ranting about Critical Mass for about a half hour if nobody puts an end to the madness.  Lets just say it touches many nerves in many places in many interesting (from a Spanish Inquisition perspective) ways.  Thus when Eliot (again!  There is a common thread here) approaches me and tells me about a ride that follows traffic laws and doesn't parade itself around as false activism, I relented and joined.  I'm glad I did, because it's been a while since I rode anything with purpose other than commuting and it felt great to be the social part of a mobile social.  I find myself talking to random strangers a lot these days.  I guess it took a wakeup call to break the bubble.

I have no pictures (I was on a bike most of the night, fools), but a short summary includes a walk through a kind of shitty art gallery street, lots of hot dogs and beers at Elliot Street Pub, a free bike bottle, watching people pour molten hot iron into molds, and a night at Hand in Hand pretending to be a doctor/RN/Red Jesus in order to engage in conversation with a seemingly endless supply of first year Emory med students (called M1's I now know).  Ending with a cheesesteak from Woody's is only fitting.  Well played, David's life.

Tragedy:

And thus, we end on a sad note.  I have been getting into ridiculously good shape playing ultimate, soccer, and going to the gym a hell of a lot, and now all of that comes to a grinding halt.  While playing the first IM season ultimate game I tore up my shoulder, separating the AC joint (kind of a cool thing to read about, but shitty to feel) and removing myself from all athletic considerations for at least 3 weeks.  The upshot is that Mom doesn't trust the doctors at the health center and now I get a free trip to LA.  Time to get an MRI, mother fuckers!  I hear the best cure for shoulders is LA bar crawling.  I heard.  Somewhere.

Love and beers,

Dt