Last weekend I went to Point Reyes again. The park doesn't hike itself.  Stayed at the Point Reyes youth hostel, hiked every morning, studied every night. I've never been hostling before. And now I know why nobody goes to these places. People aren’t avoiding torture, they're avoiding the weird crazies that stay up in there. Hostels, if you havnet been, are like dorm rooms. You stay in a room with like 20 other people. The rest of the house is open for people to sit and read and cook and hid from elk. Now, this hostel unlike many others, HAS Wi-Fi, they just won't let you get to the Wi-FI. The owner, an INCREDIBLY hot, young, tall, chiseled blonde (OMG, is this stunning goddess for real running a hostel!), decided that she wanted to foster discussion amongst the guests so no Wi-Fi internet allowed! And discussion we got. Lots of crazies up in hea.

One of the ladies at the hostel kept loudly announcing to every one that she had just been laid off from her job and so SCREW them, she's going on a vacation by golly for 2 months. She has a degree from DeVry did you know and so it's the company's loss cackle, cackle, cackly, she's going on vacation. Julie (my traveling buddy) was all "lady, when you get laid off it's not called vacation, it's called unemployment." This lady also happened to be a softw... (oops, I mean) former software engineer. When she heard Julie and I were also technologists, this clearly nutcase started screaming about how "good for us" and "men try to keep you down" and "I have a degree from DeVry" and we were all "you are exactly the type of woman we hate being in our industry. The kind who are actually strange and clearly incompetent and when they get laid off for being a loony it's all discrimination this and discrimination that" 

Another one of the creepers at the hostel kept talking about how he thought that women should realize that women in PlayBoy don't actually look like that. That most of those pictures are either computer generated and the models are airbrushed. As if airbrushing can solve all physical deformities. Girl: "Doctor, Doctor, I just fell and knocked all of my teeth out and my nose bone is now jammed clear through my forehead and worst of all I have a PlayBoy audition tomorrow." Doctor: "What are you freaking out about, they have airbrushing don't they?" Julie and I were all "You have seen the lady who works at this place, right?" The guy then continued to make the point that full-figured women were not only normal, but were also preferable. He used the following analogy, "My sister likes going to the gym with African American women, and she likes it cause it makes her feel skinny"   Literally, I was so dumbfounded by this logic as being proof that bigger women were better that I had to get up immediately and go to bed to allow my brain to process all the new information while it was asleep. Maybe I'd jolt up in the middle of the night and scream, "Now, I understand!!"

Then there was the guy who tried to convince us that gay people should be allowed to get married as long as they didn't call it that.  Clearly, because words are more important than concepts . But he was only ok with it as long as the gays didn't go and get all perverted in the streets. And I'm all, well, you certainly were wise to leave the Poconos in Pennsylvania to come out here to San Fran cause I hear that the pervertedness in the Poconos is OUT OF CONTROL.  As I was leaving the living room after the aforementioned "black people make white people skinny by comparison" comment, I ended up giving my name to the "perverted gay people" guy. He instantly started pulling candy out of his pocket and shoving it at me telling me that ginger candy and ginger tea solve the majority of his health problems.

The next morning I get up and walk into the kitchen to be greeted by Julie and this red eyed fellow whom Julie had accidentally made conversation with the night before. Now, this man had gotten a reputation in the hostel for doing things like this. Normal person: "Well, I'm done here in the kitchen, I'm going to go read a book." Creepy red-eyed guy, "but I just got done making you food."  So the red-eye man was carrying on conversation with Julie as I strolled in. Without even looking at me and with me standing 3 feet away, he says to Julie about me "Who is she; is she staying with you?" I again am stunned silent, and I hadn't even spoken a word since the night before! I turned and stared at him viciously which he saw!, but it didn't matter. He continued on asking Julie "Is she taking the same test as you, does she work at the same company as you, is she leaving here on Thursday like you are?" Julie has more of a problem being out-and-out rude to people than I do, but even she was having trouble maintaining decorum at this point. I turned around without saying a word and went back into the bedroom with Julie hot on my heels where we screamed about the man for a good half hour until my serial killer self managed to sneak back into its chair in the corner of my mind. Later in the week, I found myself alone with this man in the kitchen. He tried to engage me in conversation. I am standing the same three feet away, and I don't even acknowledge his existence.  I was all "look who's invisible now MoFo." One of my prouder moments.

Well, I've have more stories of this trip which I may or may not get around to telling. Depends on if someone at work makes me angry tomorrow. I find I'm more in the mood to write when I'm pissed off.