Road Trip!

We set off for Seattle yesterday to attend the grand opening of the Fantagraphics book store in the lovely (?) Georgetown district. Our caravan consisted of two carloads of fine cartoonists hellbent on rocking with the Emerald City glitterati. I scored a seat space at the last minute and tried to put my newest affliction, a merciless sinus cold, at bay for the day to enjoy the ride.

Obligatory back-seat photo. Jesse Reklaw and Josh Simmons

The day was beautiful. I rode in Zack's car with Jesse, Andrice and Josh. Elijah, Alyssa and Tim rode with Dylan. We cracked wise and hijinked it up all the way to Olympia, where we met up with the rest of the crew at the Danger Room ( a remarkably well-stocked comics store) and then across the street for some Thai eatin's. I'd never been to Olympia before; it reminded me of Portsmouth, NH - quaint, small-business storefronts in a tiny, walkable downtown. It reminded me so much of New England, in fact, that I got a little claustrophobic and weirded out by the thought of ever living again in a town so small. Portland, Maine never seemed so limited to me while I was there, but after five years of PDX life, I don't think I could turn back that clock.

Tim, Zack and me in the back alley behind the restaurant.

We separated again for the final leg to Seattle. After getting lost in the twists and turns of the getting-revived-but-still-creepy industrial-warehouse section of Georgetown, we finally landed our mothership on the shores of the Fantagraphics store. It was a lovely mob scene.

Nice rack... spinner rack, that is.

The Wall of Original Art

These photos came out so shitty... we gotta get a new camera and SOON

Zack and I made a beeline to the beer stand, since Josh was designated to drive home, and we were browsing the porno room when the bad news came in: Dylan's car had broken down right outside of town and we needed to run and pick them up. Fuck, I hate cars. They're generally a sometimes necessity, but I wish I had offered to get a Flexcar and drive everyone up instead of Dylan having to put his ride on the line... at least then a new one could have been handed to us within an hour and no repairs'd be necessary. Sheeit.

Despite the setback, we managed to gather everyone at the block, which hosted not only the new store but a couple galleries and a bar. I was vulturing Ellen Forney for twenty minutes trying to find an opening in which to chat her up, and when I saw it I moved in - she was extremely cool, and faced with a situation where I was just coming up to her cold, I reverted into an extremely rare fangirl-overdrive mode and started snowdrifting her with praise. Her real friends kept butting in to chat with her and I felt weirdly awkward trying to finagle a signing out of her, but she seemed like the type of person that had we met *not* in a giant crowd, we'd probably hit it off really well and go smoke a jay or something like that. Regardless, I shmoozed my Ivy promo into her backpack, and I sincerely hope we get a mellower chance to chat it up sometime in the future. Her new book rocks, by the way.

While browsing the damaged-books room, Zack and I were accosted by two of the wildest, craziest chicks I have ever had the pleasure to meet: Jocelyn and Britt. They asked if they could take a few photos of them molesting us as part of their impromptu art project of the evening, and I ended up spending most of the night with them. It was like we were BFFs from the get-go, and I was doubly amazed when I learned it was their first night hanging out with each other as well. I was all like, "You're already like my best buds from college!" and they came back all, "SPRING BREAK '83!!!" We posed with Tim's moustache on the sidewalk in front of a "Trans Van", then snuck up to the DJ booth at the gallery next door to booty dance with the DJ and take pulls from his flask and pose with our hair blowing from the fan.

Illin' and Britt, Spring Break, 1983

I mean it, we were instantly tight, and how often does that happen? They took like ten thousand photos and promised to find us online, and for Christ's sake, girls, I sincerely hope you do. If I'm ever back up to Seatown, you bet I'm gonna look you up, and if my t'roat wasn't so tore up I would've totes taken you up on your slumber party offer. Next time, ladies, next time.

Damn that shit was fun. We all hung out at the 9 Lb. Hammer, a drunken bro-down around the corner, and while I wasn't really drinking by this point I was shmoozing up a storm. I met Eric Reynolds, a Fantagraphics editor whose band played on site earlier in the evening. I would've given him a promo but it never seemed like the right time; still, meeting him was great and he seemed very open and chatty. He and a few others I spoke to that night all mentioned how much they loved Portland and if only their jobs didn't tie them to Seattle, they'd move down in a heartbeat. Guess I'd better buy up some property before that occurs.

Eric Reynolds and my bro-ho.

The ride back was miserable; my throat was screaming, and I fell asleep for 20 minutes only to wake to the most intense, unbelievable sinus headache on the right side of my face. I've never felt anything like it. I collapsed into bed at about two am (nothing unusual for me these days) and dreamed of my own death. Rock on, you beautiful motherfuckers, I love you! SPRING BREAAAAAK!!!