aqua fortis

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Invasion of the Psychos

Despite my 45-minute appointment with Dr. Yoda, Ph.D., today, at no time did I actually discuss a truly aggravating incident involving a complete nutcase I had to hang out with for several hours yesterday.

Last night we had tickets for a Roger Waters concert at the Shoreline in Mountain View. I have to digress here and say that I really don't like the Shoreline--the acoustics are fine, but it's so huge, and I'm really not a crowd person. Plus, when you're 5-foot-one-and-a-half, and you have lawn tickets, and everybody's standing up, that is a recipe for not being able to see anything but the TV screen. Ugh.

So anyway, Rob and I went to the show with a guy he plays music with, T., and his wife C. We pull up to their house at around 5:00 to pick them up. This was my first time meeting C., and I could tell practically upon sight that I was not going to like her. It was like some primitive animal instinct, or crazy-radar; or maybe it was just a glint in her eyes. Sure enough, within one minute of conversation with her, I realized that she was--pardon my Anglo-Saxon--utterly fucking nuts.

She was just one of those people who has something to say about everything and absolutely has to say it; who just knows and is right about anything that comes out of her mouth because of her oh-so-worldly life experience; and she completely bossed her husband around, which was hard to watch. Plus I had major doubts about the degree of veracity of most of what she said. For instance, she referred repeatedly to how she "grew up in Spain," but I detected zero trace of any accent. Not that people who grow up in other countries can't speak fluent, accent-free English, but, at the risk of sounding like a know-it-all myself, I'm fairly good at detecting even slight accents, probably because my mom spent years teaching ESL students from a variety of countries while I was growing up. Even people who grow up entirely in the U.S. with immigrant parents often have a slight accent.

Anyway, I could only conclude that "grew up in" meant "lived there for a while, perhaps a few years." And C. just did not stop talking throughout the entire three-hour-plus traffic-filled car ride to Mountain View. As previously noted, no matter what topic of conversation came up, she had something of dubious accuracy or interest to add. Meanwhile, I made only the bare minimum of conversation required by politeness. Fortunately, her yammering filled any potentially awkward silences. Rob said later that he can always tell how much I like a person, or how comfortable I am in a conversation, by my level of talkativeness vs. silence, and that he could totally tell I was not happy.

Luckily, the concert was loud, and crowded, and Rob and I were able to make the excuse of "being able to see better from way up here" after T. and C. had settled their lawn chairs. And then we took a potty break, and gee, what do you know--it was just too crowded to try to find them again. (Actually, that part is true. I hate having to wend my way through a crowd in the dark, stepping on blankets and feet and god-knows-what.) And on the way home there was blessed silence because everyone fell asleep while I drove.

Unfortunately, my method of dealing with Crazy Woman was to drink a lot of beer very rapidly; and then we got home really late. So today I was very tired and slightly hung over. (Whee! Wednesday hangover!) I also felt slightly depressed because I've really been missing some of my friends (which I did talk to Dr. Yoda about). Being phone-phobic and living in Modesto are not conducive to staying in good contact with people. But I do miss you guys (you know who you are--many of you are over there in the Blogs list). So let this constitute a shout-out to the Walnut House Kroo for another Oregon get-together sometime, and a yahoo to the Millswomen for a celebratory shin-dig for TadMack, who sold her novel!!


David T. Macknet said...

But did you discuss the hangover with Yoda, or did that make talking to him easier?

Anonymous said...

Hey! We're going to the last show in the Roger Waters tour tonight! It'll be at the Key Arena and I think we bought some good tickets off our friend, so hopefully I'll enjoy the show more than you did.

You are talkative with us, so now I know that's a good sign! :)

We definitely have to get together in Oregon soon. This time, you guys should pick some place in Southern Oregon so you don't have to drive so dang far!

tanita✿davis said...

I think I love the fact that Dr. Yoda, Ph.D. is named... well, Dr. Yoda. I trust him that much more already. He... knows things. And can do things in slow-motion.

One of these days, when we're all in a better mood? I'm so going to just show up on your doorstep (not that I'm the one you want to see, but whatever!). And I warn you, this may be sooner than you think...

Have fun at RenFaire this weekend.

Sarah Stevenson said...

Ha! Thanks!! Dr. Yoda (not his real name) does live up to his moniker to some degree. Definitely as far as hair is concerned. He is balding, with hair around the sides and back that is about six inches long.

Visitors to Modesto will be treated to an advance glimpse of the giant hole in our backyard. Yay!

Anonymous said...

Urgh, there is nothing worse than meeting someone who has been everywhere you have, seen everything you've seen and done everything you've done. BUT THEY'VE DONE IT SO MUCH BETTER, and bore you to death with constant commenting about it.

MeiMeiLn said...

Being a fellow Mills alum, just wanted to say, "Yay!" :)

Anonymous said...

We don't even have to meet in Oregon. It could be somewhere else, too!