Time for Saturday's rant. Or rather, the rant about Saturday. In a few words: I slept in. Yes, I did. The show started at 10 AM, and I woke up at 10 30. Oops, much? Luckily this was because I turned my stereo low (I didn't want to be woken up at 6 30 AM) and Mama + Ava didn't bother to wake me up. So I relaxed, took a shower, ate, and then walked over. I mean, it was only at the other end of Redwood and exercise = good. I should do more of it. If I had motivation then I would, too.
When I go there it was packed. More than packed. Squished tight. The room was a large rectangle and the vendors were all along the wall facing in and in a smaller rectangle in the middle of the room facing out. The entrance was at the bottom left and we were in the smaller rectangle in the top right corner. There was only a small aisle between the outer and inner vendors and it was packed. The crowd seemed to be going mainly clockwise. So you see, going with the crowd was going was gonna take a lot longer and a whole lot more patience than the other way. Therefore, of course, I took one look at the room, went 'screw this' and waded through the opposite direction. Mama and Ava were very surprised to see me and even more surprised that I had walked. A teenager? Willingly get exercise? Perish the thought!
They got over the shock quickly though, and departed, leaving me to face the masses of people that didn't seem to want to buy a damned thing. It was a boring and lonely job (since I was alone), but hey. I was getting paid and I'm supposedly a good salesperson. I daydreamed of him magically showing up and talking to me, or even Becca. Hell, anyone I knew and liked would have been welcome. Stefan (a friend of mine)'s mother Sabine had a booth, but he had work and so was nowhere to be found. Will Stelfox, an acquaintance but not close friend, said hi. That was it. Oh, yeah. The awesomely nice people in the booth across from ours (and incidentally the only other black people at the entire show, vendor or otherwise) came over and chitchatted when the crowd thinned and we were all bored out of our wits, too. Unlike us, they had sold like crazy both days. I suppose it's the market. Everyone loves wreaths and glowing things and handmade Christmas/Winter decorations. Creekers and Meadow-ers don't really do the whole original , 'different' artistic jewelry thing. Especially Tribal art. Cowboys and Western? Yeah. But African and Tribal? Fuck no. And don't deny it, Creekers! You know it's so true. Hell Albertans, period.
With a couple of stop-ins by Mama and Ava, the day passed and it was eventually five o'clock. We covered our stuff and took off. I wrote, and did various other things upstairs because Brian's computer was on the blitz. There was a NaNoWriMo meet-up at Boston Pizza at 6 30, but I had figured that no one would want to drive me so soon after the show. Turns out that someone could most likely have driven me, but hey. Ya can't have it all.
That night, like the night before (did I forget to mention this?) I stayed up and wrote til 2 30 or 3 am, determined to get those 3000 words in. I borrowed Papa's laptop and did it downstairs on the couch and later the floor, with the help of caffeine.
Caffeine. Dontcha just love it? I didn't drink it at all before this November, not for many years. Herbal tea was my Goddess.
Love.
MistWeaver.
PS. The rest of the week'll ave to wait cuz I'm hungry and tired. I'm gonna bed. My slacking off ends at Midnight and that's in an hour so I'd like to be sleeping by then, thanks.
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