Bad Behavior

There’s a lot of bad behavior going on these days from several people in my life. I might need to take a day or two from writing to to keep from getting angry. Yeah, it’s pretty fucking enraging.

It makes me wish I had a kennel where I could put people until they behave. KENNEL!

Weekend

So this “writing every day” thing can’t apply to weekends. Sorry.

But I will say this: went to a halloween party in New Jersey last night with the roommates and everyone thought I was a rabbit or a bear or “where the wild things are”. Ugh. So much for putting effort into my costume…
aaaaaand I wish I had gone/wish I was going to the Local Natives concert last night/tonight.

Engaging Patrick Stewart

Tonight, Dr. Dad (my father) took me to see TR Knight and Jean Luc Picard Sir Patrick Stewart (yes, knighted in 2010! well, according to Playbill…) in Mamet’s “A Life in the Theater” and I was peeing my pants with delight before we walked in the door. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGPICARD.

So the show is amazing. We’re sitting second row DEAD center (my dad loooooves sitting up close) and I can practically see PS’s leg hairs. Strike that. I CAN SEE PS’s LEG HAIRS. LIFE COMPLETE. (slash this guy is 70 years old and can probably run circles around me. hes so in shape and still soooo good looking)

Cut to end of show: Patrick and TR (does anyone know what that stands for? Someone PLEASE say Thaddius Reginald…) come to the end of the stage and start talking about Equity Fights AIDS week, which I’ve been familiar with since I went to theater school and didn’t do theater and all of my friends asked me to donate money to them every year. Anywho, I’m all about it (I gave) and he’s like “TR AND I WILL BE OUTSIDE WITH BUCKETS TAKING DONATIONS…” and i watch as my dads face turns into the joy that I’ve been expressing since i heard we were going to see him. He looks like he’s going to scream “YAY” and throw his hands in the air all while simutaneously peeing himself and curl up on the floor in the fetal position. I throw up in my mouth, not becuase of my dads reaction, but because I might just be INCHES from Patrick Stewart.

We’re exiting the theater, we can see picard, and someone asks for a picture and i hear him go “$50 for a picture. $100 for any other physical contact” and all the Stewart ass kissers in line to throw into his bucket chuckle, but I don’t think he’s kidding cause the bodyguard next to him is totally eyeing everybody like we’re carrying toothbrush shanks (they checked our bags on the way into the theater.) Dad tosses some cash into the bucket and says “Thank you, Sir” – something I’ve never heard my father say in his entire life, not even to a police officer or anything. I just have this shit-eating grin on my face and walk buy, grabbing my dad’s arm to keep from falling on the floor, grabbing Picard’s leg, and begging him to take me home with him. We get out of the theater and Dr. Dad is still a thirteen year old girl, pestering me about why I didn’t ask to take a picture. I’m too goddamn embarrassed, but don’t have the balls to really answer that, so I tease him about wanting a picture so bad. This coming from the girl that screamed “HEY ANGELO” and waved at the former Top Chef contestant earlier that afternoon and asked for a picture in front of about 40 passersby (he obliged. you’re my new fav angelo. you’re also the tallest nicest hot glass of water i’ve seen on these new york city streets in a long time GODDAMN!)

I just didnt have the gusto to approach Patrick Stewart. Maybe its because he’s a knight. Maybe because his skin is flawless and I’m more attracted to his silvershiny-foxness than I am to silver fox Anderson Cooper (I honestly feel like I’ve got a better shot with Anderson.) I think it’s because I saw someone so beyond famous – someone practically godly in my eyes (sorry jesus or whatever) – and was just far too struck by his awesomeness to do anything. I can’t even say that 12-year old daddys girl trekkie me hates 23 year old bitter squirrely me right now because just being in his presence had some sort of ray-of-light effect on me. I kind of just want to curl up and watch Enterprise reruns and dream of the day I see him again and maybe have the gusto to actually say hello or something. Yikes what I would give to buy him an esspresso (cause that’s what he drinks right? he’s too cool to drink regular coffee. but he’s english… should i ask him to tea? will he invite the queen? OH GOD ITS ALL TOO MUCH.)

PS Thanks for making my dreams come true AGAIN, Dad 🙂

the boy is gone

went to see 39 steps with my dad tonight. if you havent seen it, and youre a fan of theater, you should. and for all you underage alcoholics out there, its right next door to blockheads. YOURE WELCOME.

on another note, as we were walking home, my dad and i passed a woman wearing a headscarf – you know, for modesty – and i had to double take: it was a LOUIS VUITTON headscarf. is that kind of hypocritical, or is that just me?

Don’t Hate Me

My pops is in town so i dont really have a lot of time to write. But get this: I legit just STUMBLED across this photo on the internet (alright, I was reading this article on 12 drugs the government abuses to interrogate people) and on the LAST one, they talked about Versed, which is this CRAY CRAY drug somebody was fucked up enough to invent. The way it works is they give it to you as a way to “put you under”, but in reality you are AWAKE THE ENTIRE TIME you’re having surgery, and then this drug legit makes you forget EVERYTHING that happened for a set amount of time (depending on the amount administered) AND THEN SOME. Eg: if your surgery is 5 hours long, and they give you versed, you forget everything for the last 5 hours, AND THEN AN HOUR BEFORE THEY GAVE YOU THE VERSED. YES, YOU FORGET WHEN THEY GAVE YOU THE DRUG UNTIL THEY TELL YOU THEY GAVE YOU THE DRUG. HOW MESSED UP IS THATTTTT?!

Ive actually known about this drug for years (my mother told me about it when she had surgery when i was in high school and my dad also explained it as he is a surgeon…) but the effed up part about this article is the scary picture associated with the drug. No, they do not show a pill bottle or the plant origins of the drug, they show a picture of a person awake, clearly freaking out, during surgery. I will not sleep. Look/read at your own risk. I legit can’t look at this again.

The Blogosphere Hates Me

So I gave up a little on posting a little bit (since April = a little bit) but I’ve found that maybe writing is one of the only ways I’m capable of releasing a whole bunch o emotions I shouldn’t let loose on other people. When I stopped writing, that started happening, and I’m sad it came to that.

I’ve never been much of a writer… honestly. But occasionally someone is able to relate or laugh or understand the crazies better by reading my blathering. I’m not sure if it’s my greatest idea to let lose on the internet again, but at the very least, I’m going to try to write every day again, starting with today. This is post #1. Tomorrow will be post #2. Do you follow? Apparently I’m not very good at explaining things. (So I’ve heard.)

For those of you actually following along, when I’m not writing here, you can catch up with the chaos HERE