2003-05-06 22:03![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplineApologies for the relative tardiness of the post, but, well. . . blow me. ;-)
[Saturday]
After the relatively early crash on Friday, and my body still being on "wake up really f'ing early" CDT, I snapped awake at approximately 5:20 and decided to take a walkabout. Vaguely recalling talk of a big room party at NOLA Mike's room, I actually manged to remember the room number, and wandered in just in time to grab some vodka and sprite before things closed down for some well-needed shuteye.
Drink in hand, it was time to, well, not wake everyone else the hell up in the RoD. Down to the lobby, where a couple of bedraggled Indygoths were trying very hard not to sublimate right through the chairs. When I broke the bad news that it was pushing 6:30, that was apparently the cue to go upstairs and die, leaving me again with the whole hotel full of solitude.
A leisurely walk through the chill air and grass of the Flamingo's courtyard, admiring the quietude and the vegetative detritus in the various small pools along the waterslide route.
"Pool open 8:00 to 10:00" the sign reads, as I walk towards the pseudo-cabana.
I cross paths with the security guard patrolling the waters. "Where's the jacuzzi?"
"Right over there. Open 24 hours, you know."
Oh, the fateful knowledge I was to share. But first, a minor C9 epiphany: soaking one's feet in a jacuzzi at 7am with a clear head is -so- much better than a hangover, it's almost impossible to articulate. let's just say that, while it's not sex, it's almost as good as chocolate.
Some pleasant time later, our hero wanders back up to the RoD, and breakfast plans are laid in. How many goths does it take to figure out Keno? Apparently, more than the contents of the RoD, who were distracted arguing over WTP political angles and employment policy.
[Saturday]
After the relatively early crash on Friday, and my body still being on "wake up really f'ing early" CDT, I snapped awake at approximately 5:20 and decided to take a walkabout. Vaguely recalling talk of a big room party at NOLA Mike's room, I actually manged to remember the room number, and wandered in just in time to grab some vodka and sprite before things closed down for some well-needed shuteye.
Drink in hand, it was time to, well, not wake everyone else the hell up in the RoD. Down to the lobby, where a couple of bedraggled Indygoths were trying very hard not to sublimate right through the chairs. When I broke the bad news that it was pushing 6:30, that was apparently the cue to go upstairs and die, leaving me again with the whole hotel full of solitude.
A leisurely walk through the chill air and grass of the Flamingo's courtyard, admiring the quietude and the vegetative detritus in the various small pools along the waterslide route.
"Pool open 8:00 to 10:00" the sign reads, as I walk towards the pseudo-cabana.
I cross paths with the security guard patrolling the waters. "Where's the jacuzzi?"
"Right over there. Open 24 hours, you know."
Oh, the fateful knowledge I was to share. But first, a minor C9 epiphany: soaking one's feet in a jacuzzi at 7am with a clear head is -so- much better than a hangover, it's almost impossible to articulate. let's just say that, while it's not sex, it's almost as good as chocolate.
Some pleasant time later, our hero wanders back up to the RoD, and breakfast plans are laid in. How many goths does it take to figure out Keno? Apparently, more than the contents of the RoD, who were distracted arguing over WTP political angles and employment policy.
