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That's cause you're a big baby.
Yeah, I cried at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mintwaster and cocolola's wedding. I certainly wasn't alone. But I laughed a lot afterwards at the reception.
I sang karaoke and made Chip Starlight sing along with me as we serenaded the guests with Ooops! I Did It Again. I know, I'm a romantic sap.
I had great conversations with Moose (see also previous entries on Louche's journal) and came away from the wedding with a great joke about Chicago street names as well as the phrase "I don't identify as people."
I was ridiculed by Mr. Big for my use of the word 'topiary'.
I finally met Lowenstein's good friend, Mr. Oh,-Is-This-Mod? and cracked up on numerous occasions.
I also finally met DP (I think that's how she's known on my friends page), had great conversations with her, and came away with the phrase "I'm sorry -- was I breaking it down too much?" which came out while we danced to Take It To Da House. I love that song. I love that she danced with me to that song.
So many great moments with so many great people. As I said to Mr. Turtle, it was a love day.
After my extremely social weekend, I laid low today. I had lunch and conversation and book-shopping in the afternoon with Miss Rook. I realized I don't hate Wicker Park as much as I thought. But I still don't love Myopic bookstore as much as I think I do. I get there and never find what I want, and if I do it's way more that I want to pay. When I want used books, I want used books. Nothing more than four bucks. I think I'm spoiled from working in bookstores for a couple years and getting lots of free and cheap books on a regular basis. Also, they're fiction section had no Nabokov, only one book by Vonnegut, and when I couldn't remember Norman Rush's name, they looked at me like I was crazy when I asked if they happened to have a list of past National Book Award winners. It's not like I was asking for the list of Oprah books, so there's no need to give me the pariah treatment, thanks.
Wow, I haven't been a bookstore employee in two years, but my snobbery and pickiness still comes out. At this time, I will share my favorite Borders story which happened to one of the ten million dykes who worked there. She was at the main information desk when a guy came up and said, "excuse me, where's your non-fiction section?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your nonfiction section."
"Well, we don't really have one. It's broken into various subjects like gardening or sports or psychology....what kind of book are you looking for?"
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."
"Um...follow me....that's over in our science fiction section..."
I decided that in the next six to eight weeks while waiting to hear back from grad schools, I will allow myself to read. In fact I will even encourge it and carve out more time for it. I will not write. Or rather, I will write only if/when inpsiration hits but I won't sit down and force myself to write or revise, to give myself a break. And to celebrate my applications being submitted, I finally bought myself Pahlaniuk's Lullaby. I'm almost afraid to start reading it because I know I will just keep going until I'm done, when I should do things like sleep and unpack and organize the five loads of laundry I've done. It's hard to savor his books, I can only completely devour.
In Other NewsTM, I just want to make note of the fact that Lowenstein's mom called me today. I mean, she called us "both" but apparently she was really calling to talk to me. I was online at the time, so she just went into voicemail. When I heard the message I was simultaneously flattered and horrified. I mean, that sounds bad -- it's not because her mother is horrible to talk to her or anything, but I'm just out of the habit of having parents in my life. I would probably embarass myself terribly by panicking, talking nonstop about completely inappropriate topics and forgetting to not swear. I teased Lowenstein, saying that they just love me because they think I made her straight. Little do they know that she made me gay.
mintwaster and cocolola's wedding. I certainly wasn't alone. But I laughed a lot afterwards at the reception. I sang karaoke and made Chip Starlight sing along with me as we serenaded the guests with Ooops! I Did It Again. I know, I'm a romantic sap.
I had great conversations with Moose (see also previous entries on Louche's journal) and came away from the wedding with a great joke about Chicago street names as well as the phrase "I don't identify as people."
I was ridiculed by Mr. Big for my use of the word 'topiary'.
I finally met Lowenstein's good friend, Mr. Oh,-Is-This-Mod? and cracked up on numerous occasions.
I also finally met DP (I think that's how she's known on my friends page), had great conversations with her, and came away with the phrase "I'm sorry -- was I breaking it down too much?" which came out while we danced to Take It To Da House. I love that song. I love that she danced with me to that song.
So many great moments with so many great people. As I said to Mr. Turtle, it was a love day.
After my extremely social weekend, I laid low today. I had lunch and conversation and book-shopping in the afternoon with Miss Rook. I realized I don't hate Wicker Park as much as I thought. But I still don't love Myopic bookstore as much as I think I do. I get there and never find what I want, and if I do it's way more that I want to pay. When I want used books, I want used books. Nothing more than four bucks. I think I'm spoiled from working in bookstores for a couple years and getting lots of free and cheap books on a regular basis. Also, they're fiction section had no Nabokov, only one book by Vonnegut, and when I couldn't remember Norman Rush's name, they looked at me like I was crazy when I asked if they happened to have a list of past National Book Award winners. It's not like I was asking for the list of Oprah books, so there's no need to give me the pariah treatment, thanks.
Wow, I haven't been a bookstore employee in two years, but my snobbery and pickiness still comes out. At this time, I will share my favorite Borders story which happened to one of the ten million dykes who worked there. She was at the main information desk when a guy came up and said, "excuse me, where's your non-fiction section?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your nonfiction section."
"Well, we don't really have one. It's broken into various subjects like gardening or sports or psychology....what kind of book are you looking for?"
"The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."
"Um...follow me....that's over in our science fiction section..."
I decided that in the next six to eight weeks while waiting to hear back from grad schools, I will allow myself to read. In fact I will even encourge it and carve out more time for it. I will not write. Or rather, I will write only if/when inpsiration hits but I won't sit down and force myself to write or revise, to give myself a break. And to celebrate my applications being submitted, I finally bought myself Pahlaniuk's Lullaby. I'm almost afraid to start reading it because I know I will just keep going until I'm done, when I should do things like sleep and unpack and organize the five loads of laundry I've done. It's hard to savor his books, I can only completely devour.
In Other NewsTM, I just want to make note of the fact that Lowenstein's mom called me today. I mean, she called us "both" but apparently she was really calling to talk to me. I was online at the time, so she just went into voicemail. When I heard the message I was simultaneously flattered and horrified. I mean, that sounds bad -- it's not because her mother is horrible to talk to her or anything, but I'm just out of the habit of having parents in my life. I would probably embarass myself terribly by panicking, talking nonstop about completely inappropriate topics and forgetting to not swear. I teased Lowenstein, saying that they just love me because they think I made her straight. Little do they know that she made me gay.
no subject
no subject
let me add a few:
mr. turtle describing surpressing the need to counter the friendster comment with one about livejournal
mintwaster to daniel completely dead-pan, "daniel, i know you've always been in love with me, but now it's really too late."
mintwaster to you, "did you cry? that's because you're a big baby."
loosethread singing karaoke with full enthusiasm