Weekend and Toy Joy Irritation.

I was at a Wedding in Houston over the weekend (very impressively geeky: Star Trek music during the ceremony, 12:21 PM on 12/21 in 2002 (all palindromes), inserts in the program with wonderful details about various traditions).  I sort of knew the bride from Rice days, but I was there more as a date of one of her friends.

I met up with Mike and Alex over a couple of beers at Chuy's and we talked about Indigo children, blogs, and where we saw our lives in 2003, 2008, and 2050...

Alex asked me how I would characterize 2002.  I think I would use "turbulant" and "progressive" as words... "successful"? probably not by my standards.  "Positive," yes.

I was sad to hear that both Mike and Alex weren't so happy with their 2002 experiences.  As Mike put it, he hoped that 2002 would turn out to be a below average year over time.

I gave the boys a couple of toys from Toy Joy.  Toy Joy, incidentally, is very kooky and camp.  They've been staying open until midnight for the past few weeks, have an excellent assortment of goodies, and did really elaborate gift-wrapping (with quirky wrapping paper and loads of curly ribbons).  The store was filled to the brim with shoppers the night I did Christmas shopping, so they were doing something right.

When I was there, I noticed the employees are all young, "hip" college kids... piercings and tatoos ever-present, but the trend is subdued and no longer overwhelming-punch-you-in-the-face-17-times. It's the kind of atmosphere that you'd expect would inspire a teen-empowerment-fight-the-establishment-save-our-indie-shop movie (a la "Empire Records") which would be oozing with delicious, utmost pretention and unrealistic wit.

The employees seemed to have an attitude of "we're in our own weird, wonderful world!  And you are very square and don't belong!"  At first it was refreshing and cute...

Then it got downright sickening... okay, I get it, you have on a Cheerios T-shirt not because you are supporting the corporations but because you love the irony of the kitsch and that tattered knit cap so prominent on your shaved scalp expresses your supposed empathy with poverty... you and your camo-tights-clad, raver-chic co-worker are displaying sarcasm playing with that squeeky catholic nun toy that is as subtle as an iron lung... Ha ha. you made another funny peppered with references you hastily put together between Newsweek and your last Poli 101 reading assignment (now resting in your Prada messenger bag next to your ever-beeping-tunes-from-70s-tv-shows combo RIM Pager/MP3 Player/Cell Phone/Dishwasher (who the hell, besides your cadre of irritatingly identical friends, needs to contact you that frequently, by the way?)

You're anti-conformist, you know SO much more about technology than me, you're generation Y, and you're sarcastic... now wrap my damn presents, already, so I can go save the world you're about to screw up even worse.

But I digress...

Mike, Alex, and I made it back to Mike's apartment (his wife was out of town), and we sat around talking some more about various Rice gossip, terrorism, and possible reunion ideas.  We played with the Mensa word games I gave Mike, and we gave up after a few cards (more so after a few more beers).

I saw Harry Potter on Sunday with Wendy.  Very good.  I think I liked it better than the first one (that I like either one is debatably not a good thing)

The drive out to Houston and back was pretty tolerable.  I had Howard to keep me company and I also made it through the robot show in my head a couple of times... came up with an interesting idea for a particularly clunky transition.