Nothin' Ever Happens on Mars--er--Lubbock

Remember the good ole days when I used to post fantastically funny things that happened to me. Remember the rants about my job and the big headed baby? [Ah God, Glinda, I seriously almost linked to your flickr photo of her, but my inner angel just couldn't let me do it].

Remember the awesome parties and nights out at the devilport? That just doesn't happen anymore. And it's not like I've lost my cynicism or caustic wit (no, certainly not that). It's just that nothing freakin' happens here. You would think that somewhere in this town something funny would happen. I got nuttin'.

Perhaps it has a bit to do with the fact that I NEVER EVER EVER STOP WRITING FUCKING PAPERS AND TAKING FUCKING MIDTERMS. Yeah, it might have something to do with that. Jeez, I need a freakin' vacation.

Mmm, well there was that guy, a nicely dressed MBA type--should've been my first sign to stay away, who bought me a beer and then asked me what lotion I was wearing. I said that it was perfume, actu... And then he interrupted me and said, "Well I hope it's not Bath and Body Works bc I don't like to use that. Don't you have anything tingly in your purse?" Keep in mind, we're at a bar, and I just met him. This leads to him making other requests about watching him masturbate when I'm luckily saved by my friends. Yeah, see, there was a time when I could make even that funny, but here, no, it's just fucking creepy because it's fucking LUBBOCK!

Ok folks, goal for the weekend--I will find something funny to write about. It's all perspective. Yes, I will triumph!

Flashback--the van, the van

Today is the anniversary of the van dream, but it is also the anniversary of the $1,700 party I crashed a year ago. You know, it's sad when your blog posts have to be either opera dreams or flashbacks of an exciting life you used to have. Maybe I should do something interesting today.

At least this proves that I am the lesser of 2 evils.

Grotesque ode to Aldrich, King, and Monty Python

Photo from http://my.execpc.com/~reva/babyjfotos.htm

Our story starts on a dark staircase. Wine in hand, we ascend the steps of what seems to be the location of a dinner party. Little do we know, insanity lurks in every shadowed corner. A troll, the bridge keeper of sorts, accosts us: "What is your name? What is your quest?" Glinda, like Lancelot, brings forth the Holy Malbec, and with, "Right, off you go," the bridge keeper troll lets her through. Edgy and I, however, are stopped by the troll with the same questions. I point at the Holy Malbec, and she grunts, "Are there two other bottles in that bag?" I nod: "African and European". "Fine," she utters with a suspicious bulging of the eyes.

Next, we enter the house, cryptic and twisted. Our host, though amiable, leads us to her secret chamber, the clown room. Pictures of clowns adorn the walls--tramps with hollowed sockets, circus performers with faces melting in LSD illumination, tiny clowns suspended from the air in cords or smashed beneath endtable glass, their lipsticked mouths dissolving. I could feel Pennywise's breath on the nape of my neck.

We return to the staircase. The troll emerges from the fog with more questions, "Where did you spend your first 7 years of life? Why don't you have an accent?" I made the mistake of telling her that my grammar school was parochial and that they beat the accent out of me. "How dare you profane this place with your presence! " She turns to Glinda, before ejecting me from the bridge: "Are you responsible for these two?" Glinda nods, as Lancelot would, "In truth, yes." "And you," she turns to Edgy, "What are you?"
"My accessory," I chide.
"A permanent one?"
"Well, ye.."
"NOTHING IS PERMANENT!"
"Well, hello sunshine" [Glinda's first verbal mistake].
"I'm only telling the truth," the troll growls, "I only speak the truth. I have impulse control issues."
"So thaaaats what it's called." [Glinda's second verbal blunder].
"It is. I'm a shrink, and I have impulse control issues. Always have. It's what I do."

It's at this point, I motion Glinda into the other room, and she turns to the troll with foot in mouth, "We're going to get something to drink." The troll glares at her, "I understand." As I look back, before she turns to engage Edgy in conversation, I distinctly see her painting her lips in a circular motion. "I'm Mama's little devil." Yes, yuh aaah, troll, yuh aaah!

Halloween Highlights

Top quotes of the evening in random but somewhat chronological order (Names are deleted to protect the guilty):

1. "I'm wearing Dickies, just like the people at Starbucks!"
2. "My hair is hard."
3. "I've got the golden ticket, and I'm melting on it."
4. [With fluttering eyes, after hearing his hair was beautiful] "Oh thank you!" [then with a gruff voice] "It took me two hours to do this makeup and these bobby pins are killing me. I swear this will never be permanent. I don't know how you girls do this."
5. "My name's on a tombstone. I'm going to eat it."
6. "Oh, I thought that was his...um...little superman hanging out."
7. "Dude, that guy was infinitely worse than that "Touch My Monkey" guy at your first stock my bar party, and that's saying a lot."
8. [following the last comment] "That touch my monkey guy is my husband--soon to be ex."
9. "Oh man, this is the made for tv version. It won't show the warthog giving head."
10. [discussing my Willy Wonka costume] "She's sooo cute. You just want to take her home and...I dunno. What do you do with Lucy from the Peanuts when you take her home?"
11. "I'm a freak. I'm a mutant freak. SBC told me so."
12. "I need to ask you a very personal question: Your voter registration card is on the back of the toilet, and I put it in the basket on the back of the toilet. Are you ok with that because I know that voter registrations are supposed to be secret and all and I don't want you to be mad that I touched it, but I thought you'd want it in the basket. My belly button ring is flashing. I normally have a belly button ring but it doesn't flash so this one is better. Look, I can shake my hips. I'm taking belly dancing lessons. [She stands still] See, are they shaking?"
13. [touching my wig] "You have short hair. You don't normally have short hair. You're a short haired girl. It's like Single White Female. I like it."
14. [said by same person as last comment] "What's Kevin Smith's wife supposed to be? I've been sitting here all night trying to figure it out, and I just don't know. Maybe she's just a hair girl."
15. "You throw the best parties because you have little things and because you are shottastic. I think I'm going to come to all of your parties. I like your house."
16. " I can't find my keys. They have a mace on them. Have you seen them? I can't drive without my keys with a mace on them. How will I get home?" [we hid the keys. Someone sober drove her home.]
17. "Will you please have the smokers go down the street, around the bend, through the thick forest, and into a sealed room?" (Ok, I embellished that one).
18. "I'm not sleeping. I'm just resting with my eyes closed, no open, no...closed...I dunno."
19. [said much like "I like grapes"] "I like cheese." [He was eating hummus].
20. "There was this little person and she was laughing and running around and laughing like HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA laughing and running around like this [she runs like a kid pretending to be an airplane] and laughing like HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and she got into her car and was still laughing like HAAAAAAAAAAAA and she looked at me and laughed like HAAAAAAAAAAAAA and I thought, 'Man, this might be fun' because I think she's moving into the neighborhood."