A few announcements:
1. My next great mix will be about hustlers: Bobbie Gentry, Fancy; Curtis Mayfield, Pusherman; The Ramones, 53rd & 3rd; Patti Labelle, Lady Marmalade; Weezer, Hash Pipe. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.
2. They’re selling these great aviator sunglasses at Walgreen’s for $2.99. Jacinda and I got some, and we look like Ponch and the White guy from “CHiPs”. It’s so hot.
3. A lukewarm shower is great when it’s hot outside.
4. Kevin is thinking about getting an air conditioner.
I worked late last Friday, missing the HBO Def Poetry event in the West Loop (sorry, Adrienne). I met Andrew, Damien, Kathy, Joe, and Jacinda at the theater on Western near Target to see, ta-da!, “Goldmember”. Which was ai-ight, as my brother would say. A few really decent, silly, stupid jokes, celebrity cameos-a-go-go, and fun musical numbers. But where was Burt Bacharach playing one of his classic hits on the piano? The sight gag scene where Austin walks around naked, his bits hidden by well-timed gestures from the other actors? Beyonce looked great as Foxy Cleopatra, but there was precious little chemistry between her and Austin. I still think Elizabeth Hurley was the best Powers girl ever.
Anyway. Jacinda and I went to the MCA Saturday afternoon. We looked at the Andreas Gursky exhibit, ate some chips, poked around the gift shop for something to buy (and exploit our member discounts). Sadly, nothing called out to me. The jewelry was too contemporary, I had no need for refrigerator magnets made from Italian marbles. I just wanted to go home. So we did, running from a former co-worker of mine whom we met in the lobby with some of his friends.
Went home, Jacinda napped, and I went to the Seven Stars, a Filipino-owned grocery store (anyone who can guess why it makes sense that a Flip grocery would be called the Seven Stars gets a prize). They had 20 lb. bags of jasmine rice, frozen lumpia, and all sorts of Mamacita soup and sauce mixes. I brought home lumpia, sio pao, and steamed my dinner.
Jacinda woke up, and we went out, first to Walgreen’s and then to the Lyons Den for Joe’s show. The purpose of going to Walgreen’s was to get cash for a cab, also to buy the aformentioned “cheap great aviator sunglasses”. We looked so hot, refusing to remove them in the cab or at the bar where Olde Style was playing. People stared but we did not care because we were lovely and they were just jealous. Bwa ha ha. The show was fine — Andrew brought some friends, and Jacinda ran into some couple friends of hers. When I say couple friends, I mean friends that she and Joe seemed to know very well. These friends come in romantically aligned pairs. They spent a while reminiscing while I spaced out and made a list of all the people I know who’ve been with the same person for more than a year. And there are a lot of them.
I don’t know if my lot in life is to hang with these couples as the token single girl. I don’t think I mind so much, because most of the couples I know are pretty damn cool. But I do get a little tired of that “we” talk: “We’ll check our schedule.” “We’re busy that night.” “We are not amused.” “We’ll let you know.” I suppose this is sour grapes, but I do get a secret thrill when my couple pals have a bit of a to-do over something, like making plans to see a friend that one doesn’t like very well. Because if I want to go to the movies, I don’t have to drag someone with me. I can go by myself. All alone.
Jealous? Maybe, but I always feel like I’m getting away with something huge when I can get one of my friends-in-a-serious-relationship away, if only for a couple of hours, for a drink or a movie or some time where we can sit and talk about me, and how they feel about me, et cetera and so on and so forth.
Bwa ha ha.
I know it sounds like I hate couples, but that’s not true. I like them, when they’re made up of two entertaining, cool, smart, and funny people (or if there’s one that I really, really like and one that i can totally ignore) who are capable of expressing themselves without instantly referring to the other for total validation of themselves. I dislike the couple as a single unit, like that Borg thingie on “Star Trek: The Next Generation” (I don’t actually watch the show, but I’ve heard, okay?) or Janet Jackson’s Rhythm Nation.
I guess I’m just not used to the “we” talk because my parents don’t talk about themselves like that. It’s always “Your daddy and me went to Atlantic City last weekend,” or “Mommy and I are worried you’re a lesbian but it’s okay if you are.” I guess this is to avoid confusion — who else would my mother be going to Atlantic City with but my dad? I don’t know anyone who appreciates loud, bright, shiny machines as much as she does but him.
I wasted Sunday, getting up at 2pm to putter about uselessly and rent “A Walk to Remember”. Cried like a baby, watched “Sex and The City” with Jacinda and Jalissa, yackked a bit about nothing, then went to bed. The week at work has been pretty hard and evil and bad so I won’t bother you with the details. I managed to relax Tuesday night, when I saw “A Hard Day’s Night” in Grant Park with the usual suspects (Jacinda, Dan, Joe, Damien) and Doug (he was in town working on a piece for some magazine that I’ve sort of heard of)! I hung out with Kevin last night, eating tacos and watching “Amelie”. I got a bit teary at the end when Amelie and Mathieu finally meet, kissing hello before they fall into bed and a happy life. I got a bit indignant. Why can’t I work in a groovy bistro? Why can’t I play a practical joke on my parents with their garden gnomes? Why can’t I have a nice ass and a haircut to match? Blah blah blah. Boo hoo hoo. Cry me a fucking river, and I’ll be back sometime next week with pictures from, ta da!, Old Girl’s wedding.
“Jesus, beezus, white guy don’t stand a chance.”
The Flashing Lights – Gone Are The Good Times; N*E*R*D – Truth or Dare; Massive Attack – Dissolved Girl; The Beatles – I Wanna Be Your Man