An oddly busy weekend.

This weekend was actually full. Fuller than I usually like. There after all is something about staring at a wall for the length of a Saturday afternoon and squandering those precious heartbeats one has on this earth. But that can't be helped now.

Where to start? Well, first there was the gathering of Hipsters. Darn they're neat. So much so that I've decided to become one. Anyone know where I can get a Hipster starter kit? I of course will need to get an iPhone and skinny jeans. And is it too late to mock Hipsters? Has that become passe?

I honestly bear Hipsters no real ill will. I have at least one friend that I suspect is a Hipster. How bad does that sound? Wow. Mostly I just buckle to the usual social pressures to gripe about this sub-culture or that (twihards) to struggle for something relatable to say. We live in an us vrs them sort of world.

But no, Hipsters just kind of are as they're out there living their lives and doing their thing. They bother me far less than people who watch reality tv, or sports fanatics. Hipsters are at least(in theory) living their lives and experiencing new things first hand. Good on them as far as I'm concerned, and may they get over the fad with those stupid skinny pants.

Our local hip neighborhood hosted a street faire this weekend. Food, art and live music they promised. We had other plans, but stopped by one of the local eateries that we favor for breakfast. The place is always packed, so we decided to wander around the faire as we waited. It was about as expected. The highpoint was the street poet dressed in what we figured was Hipster motley as he recited verse. Though he could have just been a crazy homeless guy ranting about the moon demons. Either way, I didn't make eye-contact. I get enough face time with the crazies at my job.

So I walked into their faire with my eyes open. It was hard to tell where the Hipster stopped and the Hippie began. Are these two sub-cultures closely related? It would seem to me not really so much. If one ignores the seeming cross-pollination. Where do Hipsters stand on free-love? Cause if that answer comes back positive, I'm off to get my iPhone and skinny jeans today!

Back to the faire, though I don't really know why I bother. It was a couple dozen tents of crafts and what-not, with people of all ages about. At one end there was a band that we were desperately hoping would be packing keytars(maybe even dueling keytars!) But neither of us stuck around long enough to find out.

I walked through later – I've been walking a lot lately, power-hikes through town trying to hit up as many hills as possible. My best distance yet was just over 7 miles, with 5.5+ being about average. Takes about an hour and a half, a large chunk of free-time that I could be using to write. But my ass needs to be firm when the zombies arise! - where was I going with all that? Oh yeah, I returned. And nothing really seemed to change. I just wanted to talk about my exercise routine. Suckers.

Have you ever been to an engagement party? Is that even a thing anymore?

My boss has just become engaged, and many congrats to her. She invited a few of the employees to the shindig. How utterly awkward is this? I don't like hanging out at bars. Period. Spending countless hours with strangers, or co-workers whom I partly know is somewhat stressful. I have very little in common with my fellow employees, less with my employer.

Not showing up seems like a poor life decision, as the boss was kind enough to offer the invitation. So I went. I put on my semi-finest black pants and dark shirt and spent some of the evening trying to fade into the black leather couch that was so conveniently located in the out-cast section. Huzzah for dim lighting and dark clothes.

Neither seemed to work in my favor. I attracted some attention.

After the small talk was made with the people I did know, I spent most of the evening trading stories about the wacky encounters with crazy patients that we've all had. Oh Pharmacy, you certainly do attract the crazy. As I'm sure that anyone who has read past posts know. Many of those very stories were rehashed at the party, and the list gets longer and longer each day.

I was actually asked by a complete stranger what my nationality was. Yeah, really strange that. I'm American, from this very state sir, I replied. But the gentleman in question claimed that I had an accent. Mind, we were in a bar with conversations buzzing all around and I had only spoken a couple sentences, and he was older (I'm implying that he might be a bit hard of hearing – for those who didn't read that far in. *wink wink*) man as well.

I really don't know what to say to that, as even my best Cockney would make Dick Van Dyke cringe in offended horror. But I have a rather plain mid-western accent. Nothing sexy. Unless you have a fetish for those things, then Hello.

This was about the extent of the evening. Free food and awkward chit-chat with coworkers and complete stranger. And far more the former than the latter. The food was very tasty. How's that for an adventure?

Finally there was the Irish Music Festival. We had to travel for this one, something I hate doing on my weekends off. Something about driving every night makes me inclined to avoid cars on the weekend. Oh well. I was invited on the outing, and didn't see anything else happening so I jumped at it. I've not been to a music festival before. So why not?

The layout consisted of fairgrounds on the lake shore and three large pavilions for the acts. A couple tents for the shopping stalls and the usual food vendors that one finds at a summer fair. Most of which had an Irish tint to it. The crowds were light and there was plenty of open space. Not to mention several different displays showcasing glimmers of Irish history – most notably the Irish Wake.

The gift-shops were selling vaguely Irish crap, most of it did not appeal. You know the kind, as it has been distilled and twisted by pop-culture to represent the Irish culture in the States. Bland caricatures and abstractions with their catchphrases.

The word of the day was green, as everything seemed to be awash in every shade of the color. Though looking back I should have gotten myself a kilt. They had some rather solid models on the relative cheap at one of the booths. I still want to get a good kilt.

I am not a fan of Irish music. By this I don't mean that I dislike the genre, I rather enjoy the Gaelic sound, it just isn't part of my daily life. My tastes are generally very broad, and extremely shallow. Does this sound Hipstery? I'm practicing as I await the answer to the above question. The music was enjoyable, the one band I listened to for any length of time. Strange, we drove an hour to get there, and paid $15 at the gate to get in, only to stick around for a couple hours.

Honestly, I went for the same reason I've gone to most of the other festivals, faires and conventions that I've written about. People watching. The pretty girls in their summer clothes really warm the blood of an old man like myself.

The Irish Music Festival was a lot like a comic convention. Though the mix of people was a bit skewed. At the latter, there are about 10 smelly male geeks for every person carrying 2 X genes. And the former? It was overweight, middle aged white people. A mob of them! The pretty girls in their summer clothes? Not so much. 10 to one against. Sad day.

But the music was good. And so was the pizza the the buffet that we stopped at on the way home. Fuck paying faire prices for food.  In the end, I felt quit exhausted while having actually accomplished so very little.