I know. That shit doesn't make any sense to me, either.
Whatever. VC also is a fierce seamstress. Plus, she's more than a little crazy. I've never met anyone who could match Julie's or my predilection for wearing stupid handmade costumes, but VC surpasses it. So you know she was my first pick to ride shotgun this trip. After about 10 seconds we invited her brother, BoyChen, whom science will one day prove to be 50% squirrel, to go along/further split the cost of gas.
I should mention several complicating factors here. Neither VC nor BoyChen is currently employed, so taking a last minute trip to Las Vegas was perhaps not the most pecuniarily prudent decision one could make. And I'm not exactly made of money myself, right now. While VC was backpacking through Brazil last month, I incurred about 1K's worth of damage to her convertible. Bitches, I want you to imagine how hard I cried when I had to a) confess and b) pay. None of us was rolling into Sin City with anything approaching freedom pockets. Nevertheless, roll into Sin City we did.
The second thing you should know is that BoyChen doesn't really like any Star Trek incarnation except Voyager. Yeah, you read that right. Get on back to the Delta quadrant with that bullshit, BoyChen. I don't even know how a human brain can be that damaged and still function. Enterprise put me to sleep like a glass of warm milk and a back rub; but Voyager actively irritated the fuck out of me. And before you start accusing me of player-hating on Jeri Ryan (the standard riposte, apparently), know that Seven-of-Nine was one of the few things I liked about that show. You know why? Because she seemed just as irritated with the crew as I was. She stayed looking pissed off.
Speaking of Enterprise, I am legally obligated to say two things: one, Connor Trinneer is the doofus ex-boyfriend of my old roommate, Mia; two, Scott Bakula's autograph costs $109?! American money?! Bitch, please. When Rene Auberjonois, whose changeling bucket you are not fit to rinse, costs $40, you better keep it moving with that $109. Is there that much Quantum Leap goodwill left floating around?
To continue: VC dipped into Hollywood on Friday and picked me up from work. Friday was 08/08/08, if you'll recall, and as VC is Chinese, she was determined to mark it. And be marked by it. So on the way out of town, we stopped on the east side and she got a tattoo of her chop on the back of her neck.* So far, so good.
Also, her tattooist was hot to death. You all know that sleeve tattoos are my kryptonite, so let's just say that I found Man to be quite alluring.
Ink applied, we swerved over to to grab some Jesus Chik'n** and then started our hobo nerd adventure in earnest. They screwed up my order at the place, so I got a sandwich for free! Things were already looking good on this trip! Only I can't eat wheat anymore***, so I had to eat the meat in the backseat with my hands.***. Messy, but satisfying. Just like the days to come.
Stay tuned for Part II: The Wrath of Con (I am so ashamed of that. I swear)
*Pictures to come. You know, when I get all the rest of the pictures sorted out. Keep checking this space
*** developed some weird hyper-sensitivity out of nowhere