Saturday, September 5, 2009

Spinning yarns.

Whitney and I went to the Storytelling Festival today- twelve hours of stories. Another twelve hours tomorrow. That's a solid day of stories, friends. It's funny- almost entirely old people, a fair amount of middle-aged ladies, and then me and Whitney. We're not so far gone that we like like it when the storytellers break into dorky folk songs. And we (not-so-quietly) make fun of the kid storytellers that think the key to a good story is being overly flamboyant:
One of the best things about the Storytelling Festival is people-watching for the coolest old people.


  1. I hate to break it to you, but you're kinda an old lady trapped in a normal person's body. Didja knit while you were there? You should've.

    This actually looks like a lot of fun. Worth going to today?

  2. Oh man, you're not breaking anything to me. I KNOW. A couple years ago, my best friend whitney and I went to the storytelling festival and two or three concerts at the scera shell. We started recognising old people that we were seeing frequently at different events. That's when I knew.

    I didn't knit, because I don't know how (I want to learn this year), but I'll be honest: I thought about bringing my stitching, and only didn't because I was afraid of being mocked.