A group of my favorite writers came to visit this weekend. We planned it forever ago, when the world was a different place. We knew we’d spend our time mainlining cheese but didn’t realize it’d be punctuated by horrifying social media posts about immigration bans and PresSatan Trump. The only positive outcome of this man’s existence is a lower unplanned pregnancy rate– because the new prez = a total boner killer.
It feels good to surround yourself with people you admire. A combo of peer pressure + alcohol allowed me to get the deets on several of their upcoming writing projects. I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to talk about it but I promise you won’t be disappointed. Here are a few other things we talked about that I probably shouldn’t mention:
First Orgasms – My ability to recall a short story I read in Seventeen magazine 16 years ago was on point.
Trump’s BFFs – I’m not saying we want anything bad to happen, I’m just wondering if they’re ever on the same plane at the same time?
Body Hair – We should probably consider the hair’s perspective: “I just want to reach out and touch someone. Why can’t you feel me?”
As always, there were adversaries to contend with– like a chair that wouldn’t fit through a door and Gunmetal Geisha’s complicated drink order. There was also some criminal banging on the door who disappeared even though I flew across the room “like a Charlie’s Angel” and spent the rest of the night lurking around the peep hole in an endless loop of PTSD inspired hyper-vigilance. I wanted to prop the door open but I was only one vote out of six.
Because it’s Colorado and I’m super outdoorsy, we went for a hike on the well-paved sidewalks at Garden of the Gods– The adventure was amplified by hunger and devastation because I delayed and confused everyone by insisting we meet “at the kissing camels statue” which no one could find because it isn’t a statue, it’s a rock formation, and I was also looking for giraffes because sometimes I get my animals confused.
I got to feel famous for .3 seconds when someone walked up and said “are you Aussa?” and I was like OH MY GOSH I AM KNOWN EVEN IN THE WILDERNESS but then I realized it was Katie Cross and she was meeting us there and she was on time because she wasn’t trying to find a giraffe statue.
We celebrated Laurie’s birthday with some super legit Greek food that was apparently made to order in Greece and imported in real time by one of those infuriatingly slow walkers you’re always stuck behind when trying to get off an escalator.
Gunmetal Geisha and I shared the middle suite in a chain of rooms and managed to get about 45 minutes of sleep across two nights. After positioning throw pillows over every random light source I pulled up my “apocalyptic” white noise app so I could be lulled away by the Dante-esque sounds of gnashing teeth in a wind turbine because that’s what does it for me.
The next morning GG was weirdly energetic and wanted to have a dance party. I trudged around making animal noises until she finally gave up on me.
“I’m going to go find Beth so she can hug me.”
We never had that dance party but we did ravage downtown Denver with Chrissy and her light up skirt. Random people kept asking what the occasion was so I told them Chrissy and Mandi were getting married the next day.
We got a lot of well wishes.
We wrapped things up by brunching it up with some locals, Jessica and Jennifer. Jennifer talked about calculus for a while– which made me feel very unsafe and targeted– but at least the mimosas were bottomless and I was able to distract myself by exchanging somber-faced below-the-chin selfies with Renee.
I spent a lot of time writing things down so I could blog about it later. Some of these notes made more sense than others:
“I will fight a snake if I have to, because I’m bigger than them.” – Mandi
“I’ve got a date with that cheese and it’s gonna get nasty.” —Beth
“I can’t have ice in my drink or I’ll get an eye ache.” –– Gunmetal Geisha
Most of these make more sense than the 200+ old notes in my iPhone. We started scrolling through our phones and reading them aloud, trying to remember when and why we wrote them in the first place:
“The arctic sea is frozen and the North Pole is in the ocean. Am I high or is this a thing everyone else knows? Who walks to the North Pole, Santa.”
But I think Mandi’s was my favorite. All it said was “People.”
It’s pretty remarkable for a bunch of introverted humans who met on the internet to leave their houses and spend a weekend together without locking themselves in a bathroom stall or trying to sneak away in an industrial sized laundry basket. Still, Beth had a good idea for next time: “We should all learn sign language and next time we can have a silent meetup.”
As long as we can still faceswap, it’s a plan.
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