does a little dance, makes a little love

Gene is coming to visit this weekend! Hm. This may change some plans a bit. I haven’t seen this guy in … years. (How many years, Gene?) In any case, it’s been way too long, and this weekend he will grace us with his presence. Hurrah!

I can’t believe I forgot this earlier … last Friday was the surprise birthday party for your sweetheart and mine, Matthew Middleton. God, I love that guy. He’s one of those people that I’m FAR more fond of than our friendship merits (i.e. I don’t know him well enough to love him nearly as much as I do, and I can’t quite figure it out.) He’s Aimee’s best friend, and we first met while doing Orgasmo waaaaay back last fall. He was my “orderly” for the “hooker in an electric chair” piece (that’s not actually what it was, but it’s what Greg Bagdasarian called it). He came out at the beginning of the piece to strap me in and put my headset on, and every night he stayed backstage for the entire twenty minutes of it - just to make sure he could come save me if the headset fell off. Every night, I’d finish and go offstage, and there he’d be. Of course, the headset never fell off for the entire five-week run … until closing night. I felt it start to slip (the cord had caught on a nail) and panicked - and prayed that he was still back there. And, of course, he was … I started yelling “Orderly? Hello? A little help?” and I have never been so glad to see someone in my entirely life. In any case, I forgot where the surprise party was… I THOUGHT it was supposed to be at Satellite, but of course it wasn’t, and the only person I knew to call was Aimee, who was WITH him. Gah. I felt horrible - I thought I’d ruined the whole thing - but Aimee’s a pro, and she covered it. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who called her … she got TEN calls while she was with him. That made me feel a little better. In any case, he walked into the Rosebud and a look of sheer, unmitigated terror overtook his face, and I knew it was okay. Happy Birthday, Matt, you sexy beast! Everybody loves you.

I saw my housemate’s boyfriend naked the other night. I wasn’t going to write about it, but … someone suggested it … so I thought, what the hell. I was coming home from seeing MIIB and eating pie with Mike and Jeremy. I walk into my house at about midnight, set down my bag, look up … and there, perfectly framed in the kitchen door, is a man with the body of a greek god - brown as a berry, long flowing blonde hair and beard, eyes big as saucers, and mouth open so wide it’s practically touching the floor. (Okay, his mouth wasn’t THAT open, because then it would have covered some stuff. Y’know.) I catch his eye, he freezes, he walks the other direction. Yes, friends, I saw THE WHOLE DAMN THING. During the seemingly endless moment where we both STOOD there, his girlfriend (my housemate, Julie) had wandered into the kitchen and was standing and staring at both of us. It was quite possibly the most bizarre few seconds of my life. I barely made it to my room before busting a gut laughing. Of course, I told my afternoon boss about it - she’s super-cool, and we talk about weird sex stuff all the time. (She’s exactly the same age as my mother, which could make the sex-talk thing weird, but it doesn’t. We have an odd, wonderful relationship. Emphasis on the odd.) SHE thought I should have walked up to him and made some snide comment … since it’s in Doug’s nature to always be teasing and ribbing and pushing people’s buttons. We discussed various comment options, such as “Do you know how unsanitary that is? Get out of the kitchen with that thing!” etc etc.

On another note, college kids are retarded. I was at the University Village Starbucks last night, reading a trashy novel I’d picked up at B’n’N, and I was surrounded by them. All of these UW students in their expensive jeeps, joyriding drunkenly around the parking lot, screaming at each other. I wanted to throw up. We weren’t like that in college, were we? For the love of God?! Strangely enough, the part of the book I was reading dealt heavily with how much these women hated modern twenty-somethings (in the form of club kids in New York), and I was strangely inclined to echo the sentiment. I mean - okay. I’m a twenty-something. But I find very little connection of any sort between myself and these people. I wasn’t exactly a square in college - but the drunken fratboy fraternizing in the expensive cars in the mall parking lot was not part of my experience. Who knows. Maybe my disgruntled stoner friends were just as annoying as the kids I was hating last night. I probably just lack perspective.

Any final tattoo design submissions? I’m getting itchy, kids. It’s going to happen soon… send in any final submissions by this weekend! Maybe that would be a fun tourist thing for Gene to do while he’s here. Watch me get a tattoo. (Just kidding… sorta.)