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It is a Saturday in Burbank, and our hero and heroine are on their way to see a movie.
MO and MATT drive past a familiar neighborhood landmark, a rooftop statue of a bobcat. He is decorated for the fourth of July, complete with a firecracker sticking festively out of his butt. MATT points to a sign on the building that says BOB'S TAXIDERMY SERVICE.
MATT
Oh, so that's why there's a bobcat on the roof. I always thought
it was just a decoration.
MO
Yeah, me too.
MATT
Cool, we can get Cassie taxidermied.
MO
Honey, Cassie's still alive.
MATT
So?
MO
What do you mean, so?!
MATT
How many people do you know that have a taxidermied bird? It
would be cool.
MO
You just want to walk in there with Cassie in her cage and tell them
to stuff her?
MATT
Sure!
MO
Honey, you are NOT going to have my bird TAXIDERMIED.
MATT
Sheesh. Okay. Well, how about we buy another bird and have
it stuffed.
MO
No.
MATT
Or we could buy one and not feed it. It would be kinda like a
pet. And then we'd be all like, "Oops, it died." It could be
like a stuffed friend for Cassie.
MO
Absolutely not.
MATT
Come on... it would be cool.
MO
I'm not going to starve a bird to death so you have something to stuff.
MATT
You're no fun.
MO
Well... we could just give a bird to someone else and wait for THEM
to kill it.
MATT
And you wouldn't even have to feel guilty about it!
Obviously, we're not going to have Cassie stuffed. (Or any other bird, in case you were worried.) But she earned a new nickname this weekend: McNugget. And I hope it puts the fear of God into her. She did a lot of head pooping and seed scattering, squawking and flying around. I bet she didn't make a very good first impression on Tyler.
As for Matt and I, and our first impression, we had a rather indolent weekend. One or the other of us was on the computer pretty much all weekend, and the other one was in front of the TV. So I'm sure Tyler thinks that's all we ever do. (Although that part is sort of true...) We did end up clearing out a good portion of that room, though. There's still stuff, but it's not too terrible. I'm sure Tyler loved the fact that instead of cleaning, we lazed around the house all weekend. But oh well. It was a stressful week.
I was glad that we all went out on Saturday night, so Tyler could experience the other side of me. The dance-all-night, "party time, excellent" side of me. Because Saturday night was this month's Makeup, and the band was the famous ABBA tribute band, Bjorn Again.
I knew Matt would have a good time people watching, and he did. There was the usual selection of gay men with their pants down, women with "buttless" outfits, topless girls with paint on their nipples, and people dressed as superheroes. Plenty to look at. Matt danced with me all night long, despite the fact that he doesn't think he can dance at all. He even wore my pink wig for a while (and when he tried to take it off, a girl dressed as Miss Slut America or something insisted he put it back on again).
Of course, a good portion of the dancing was to ABBA music. Man, was that band ever fun. They are a perfect replica of ABBA, down to the cheesy choreography. They were big on audience participation, and the audience was incredibly high energy and enthusiastic. The band did a long set, including most (if not all) of the songs on the Greatest Hits CD. They did my favorite two songs, "Fernando" and "Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)." Sadly, Fernando was off with Danielle and he and I did not get to dance to the song that is his namesake. But I had an incredibly good time anyway, and the $15 cover charge was a bargain to my mind.
In addition to Fernando, Matt and myself, the group consisted of Tyler, his friend Brazwill, Just (aka the gay guy who tried to kiss me at Andrew's party), and Danielle. Danielle looked adorable (and she's gotten so thin) at the beginning of the evening, but she got increasingly drunk, started looking like a heroin addict (hugely smudged black eye makeup, limp frizzy hair, cigarette) and ended up (I heard from Tyler) puking all over herself in a booth at Ihop.
Oh, and I loved my outfit. I wore black jeans and a black shirt, but dressed it up with bizarre accoutrements. In addition to my pink wig, I bought a pink and silver feather boa, cut it in half, and turned it into two giant Dancing Queen wrist fluffies. Dancing with those wrist fluffies was incredibly fun. My dancing included the moves, "Wave wrist fluffies in the air like crazy", "Wrist fluffy disco", and "Rub wrist fluffies on people's faces and yell, 'Look! I'm a car wash!'"
I 
my wrist fluffies.
365 days ago (give or take):
I embarass myself by talking about sex a lot, but this is also the historical moment when I decided to pursue my graduate degree.
Q: What's the worst that can happen?
A: Abject humiliation and utter failure.
Q: No, it's not. What's the worst that can happen?
A: I'll look back on my life and realize I wasted it by being afraid to do what I love. By not giving myself a chance to succeed doing what I love.
Q:That's my girl.
marku:
to code this whole page
all by hand
what i'm reading:
The Mad Monks Guide to New York.
journal quote of the day:
"Jesus would never have gotten pregnant."
~Meghan's mom, in mood ring: anything: please click these links. mo at the movies
work days left:
i dont know how to figure this out so i'm picking six random numbers and some Fs.
It was Shelley's entry that alerted me to the death of Walter Matthau. My grandfather worked on the movie Hello Dolly! and I have seen the film upwards of twelve million times. I have a soft spot in my heart for Walter Matthau, and I was saddened to hear of his death.
it doesn't cost you a dime
but it gets me one.
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