I haven’t pushed myself this hard since our trip to Europe a few years back. I didn’t think I still had it in me. I’m normally a pretty chill (some may say “lazy”) kind of gal, so this kind of whirlwind activity doesn’t come naturally or without great effort. In fact, part of me simply wants to write a post listing all the different synonyms for “tired.” Sleepy, fatigued, depleted, drained…

You get the idea.

So while I’m depressed that deadCENTER is over for another year, I can say that I’m looking forward to returning to my normal routine. Three proper meals a day, regular exercise and sleep, minimal booze – all very good things. But for now, let’s return to the hazy days of last weekend for a quick recap. (When I say “hazy,” I mean just that. Between too much Stella and too little sleep, most of Saturday and Sunday, for me, is a blur.) However, a few of the wonderful things I do recall are:

OKC, circa 1950-something

* That completely absurd, surreal moment as I walked down Robinson and caught a glimpse of what OKC must have looked like 45 years ago. There were dozens of vintage cars and trucks driving around the block, and women milling about in full skirts and flipped-out bobs. I soon realized that what I was seeing was not the result of too much booze, but the set of The Killer Inside Me. I longed to hang around and watch the filmmaking process up close, but alas – we were due at Untitled for the Short Femmes block.

Wavy Gravy takes Saul for a walk

* Meeting Wavy Gravy before the outdoor screening of Saint Misbehavin’: The Wavy Gravy Movie. He told me that his fish on a leash was named Saul (after Saul Bass), and since I happened to recall that Saul Bass was the genius title designer for several of Hitchcock’s films, including Psycho and Vertigo, we chatted briefly about that. I’m very ashamed to admit that my prior knowledge of Wavy Gravy was limited to the fact that he had a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavor named after him. After Saint Misbehavin’, I know now that this guy is all kinds of awesome. He got his name “Wavy Gravy” from an encounter he had with B.B. King. He was friends with Bob Dylan. He was one of Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters. He’s a peace activist, runs a performing arts camp for kids, and just seems like one of the most genuinely nice people ever. I love him.

A really dark picture of OKC, taken from the after-afterparty

* The afterparties. We checked out the Skirvin afterparty for awhile, and then moved on to the after-after party, which was on the rooftop of what appeared to be someone’s loft apartment. Here, I happily partook of Hoegaarden and Bobo’s chicken, while trying very hard not to make a drunken fool of myself. Dwight and I spent some time talking with a lovely couple, who I very much would like to ask to be my adoptive parents. They were super-cool.

* On Sunday afternoon, we had our very own Casey Affleck sighting. (Poor Casey Affleck – that makes him sound like he’s OKC’s temporary version of Bigfoot or Nessie.) Dwight spotted the elusive Affleck in the lobby of the Colcord, where he (Affleck, not Dwight) was looking for a ride to Bricktown. Oh, Casey Affleck, I wish I could have told him, there are so many better places you could go than to Bricktown. I would have taken him to Iguana, or up to N.W 23rd for some kick-ass pho. Then we would have gone for caipirinhas at the Bossa Nova bar, or perhaps a couple of pints at McNellie’s, and laughed late into the evening.

Next up, Sarah’s annual Best of Fest.