bad, bad me

Nope, don't get too excited; I didn't whore it up or anything this weekend. I just blew off work all week/weekend, and now I am here in the middle of the night rushing to enter a bunch of stuff into our computer system before the morning hits. So it's really late and I'm losing it sorta, and a friend sent me the link to the most hilarious internet show (next to Planet Unicorn, of course) called Clark And Michael. It was too flippin' funny to stop watching...or maybe I was just procrastinating.


SO: this weekend was pretty great. Friday night I just stayed in - after attending the summer camp kids show at work (so cute! see guitar kids above). Then I swam Saturday, then hung out with my friend A for lunch and a pedicure (fancy! girly!), bought some junk at Target, and then went with S to this private party for the Chicago rock club Metro's 25th anniversary. It was fun - lots of good people, some food, and an open bar - plus, the place looked better than I've EVER seen it, but the BEST part which I am still in awe about was the long, amazing DJ set by Peter Hook of New Order/Joy Division - I have never had so much fun dancing!! He mixed in a ton of New Order "hits," and the grown-up 16-year-old Poptart was seriously in heaven. It was like a little teen Poptart's dream come true. I danced totally crazy and 80s and so did everyone else. Luckily my friend knew just about everyone there (she was the one who was actually invited to the party; I was just her date), so when I went off to the dance floor for hours on end, she didn't even notice me missing. Until the end, when I disappeared for about 1/2 hour at the end of the night - the owner invited all the guests to dance up on the stage and it was hilarious and so much fun.

There were some cute fellas dancing too - but I am so bad at dancing with other people in that 80s freeform (or really any) style, that this cutiepie guy in a felt-lettered homemade t-shirt that said "Make Out Not War," who kept coming up to me and trying to dance with and talk to me, probably thought I was blowing him off. Actually, if I'd had just a couple more drinks, I would have taken him up on his shirt — I was this close as it was. He was cute and funny and you gotta love a guy that dances uninhibitedly. And he wasn't too young...

But I drove Sat. night, and as you know I am very socially awkward, so, there were no makeouts for me this weekend. I did kiss Peter Hook on his scruffy cheek, though, but sadly it was not captured on camera as intended. I'll post some pics from the party here or on myspace if S sends them.

M and I were gonna go to a Hitchcock movie tonight, but he called while I was downtown stage managing my first show in Millennium Park (it went well - was fun and all-around a good time) and cancelled - which is fine, though I would've liked to do something with him (and actually wouldn't mind hanging out with him all the time), but I only had 4 hours of sleep last night and now I have time to do this work. It all works out for the best, right?

Oh, and DG was at my laundromat this morning. I went to change my stuff from the washer to the dryer, and there he was. We said hi and stuff. I can't really talk to him, though. He's so old-bad-choices-Poptart. I better semi-seriously date someone else this summer, though. I'd hate to have that joker be my only 2007 man.

OK I have to go. My eyes are bloodshot from this screen (but my hair, oddly, looks quite good) and I have to go home, walk Lois, then sleep, get up, walk Lois and swim all in a few short hours.

George Michael and the Dating Iditarod

Here is E doing "Father Figure" on Wednesday night. Note a) the wine glass in his hand, which he sipped from during the performance and b) the audience holding up a table candle (left) and lighters (right)...

(Instead of running with my weekly fun run, I am blogging and lying in bed and petting my dog. I am SO tired. Besides, I finally had the "permanent" stitches, which my legs have been slowly rejecting over 6 months, removed with a scalpel Thursday, and my plastic surgeon said not to exercise for a few days anyway. So there.)

I just finished a week of meeting 5 (count 'em!) 5 new guys - 4 from the online personals site I'm on. I'm exhausted. I also drank beer or wine every night this week, which is also a (bad) first. Wednesday, my one night off, was a perfectly timed respite: this funny, great-idea theatre piece followed by karaoke with E at a tiny bar/restaurant/club in Uptown.

But it's also my very, very busy week at work. These crazy weeks come around 6 times a year, and basically ruin my life with constant fires to put out and constantly being behind on the many, many phone calls to make... and these weeks test my poor dog's will to live. She spends hours at home, alone, plus, topped by the dates and the drinking this particular week, I've often been asleep within minutes of getting home and washing my face. Poor girl.

Without going into detail on the dates themselves, I'll just say that meeting this many people at once has been really, really good for me. I was telling a friend - it makes me just not really care about looking or acting any certain way, and I can be myself all the more (too tired and worn out to be anything different), which I think is what dating is ultimately about.

I also have noticed the range of what people act like on first meetings. What they ask about, what they assume, and what they hide. It's definitely been interesting. There is one guy still to meet, with whom I have been trading phone calls and emails.

Then, it may be back to the damn "drarwring" (say it like Mike Myers, please) board, or maybe not. I need a couple of days to process, and with the holiday next week, and busy work stuff, my social calendar is full anyway.

Continuing Education

I watched Pedro Almodovar's Bad Education last night and, while it was better than most cinema out there, it wasn't my favorite of his films. That said, it's always fun to see the art direction, costuming, melodrama, and cinematic choices Almodovar makes. Plus, his actors are always great, and usually hot.

OK: I teach 5 classes a week, I currently take 5 classes a week, and I manage 150 classes a week. I just signed up Lois, my dog, and I to take yet another class starting next week (Pet Dog Training 201 at the Anti-Cruelty Society), which will make it 6 classes a week, and I also want to learn tennis this summer, which might break the bank at 7 classes. I'm also still hoping to finish my darn Bachelor's degree — in order to be able to go to grad school someday — which is going to be more classes, ad nauseum.

Part of me is all for this. It's essential to contine to learn. And god knows I need all kinds of improvements — clearly the world thinks this, too, because I don't exactly have men clamoring for my attention, or a family, or a home, or a fancy (or really even decent) job, or lots of people wanting to hang out with me.

The other part of me, though, sorta quietly whispers every once in a while, 'Can I stop now?' Someday, I just want to read fiction and comic books and watch movies and paint and draw and ride my bike around and make food and listen to music and kiss a guy I like. And not learn a thing, unless by accident...