Through The Looking Glass

I have decided to marry Will and Darren. We are still hashing out the details, as I am actually anti-polygamy. Wait, that’s not entirely fair. I am fiercely pro-monogamy. I don’t have a decisive stance on polygamy.

This is turning into a serious post! That’s no good.

My boys are downstairs, drunk. Or at least, they are drinking. And talking. And talking, and talking… I’ve totally lost track of what they’re talking about – it went from From Hell and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen to Mary Shelley to Mark Twain to Jenny Sparks and Deadlands faster than I could keep up. And that is in the last three minutes.

Heeeeee. I am in heaven.

I thought it was worth a post all its own.

I’ve lived in this neighborhood for over a year. I know where the grocery store(s), post office and library are. But I have just realized that I have NO idea where the nearest police or fire station is, and I don’t know which hospital is the closest. (Oh, let’s be honest, I only know where one hospital is in the whole city, and only because it’s next to my doctor’s office.)

I guess I’d better not have any emergencies.

I went downstairs to put my laundry in the dryer. There was a boy there, putting his into the washer. Ten years ago I would have thought he was soooo cute, but now I definitely don’t. Tall, a little too skinny – should possibly be modeling Calvin Klein jeans. You know the type.

He seemed to be attempting to strike up a conversation. Either he finds girls in laundry day clothes with unwashed faces attractive or he really needed the spare quarter I gave him. Heck, he might have just been lonely. He asked if I’d just moved in, and I told him I’d been here for over a year. So then he asked me if I’m a hermit, because he hasn’t “Seen me around.” Er…how does one respond to such a question? And why the hell would I hang out in the building but not in my apartment? And why do I give a crap that he sold his car to some guy who didn’t even test drive it?

I feel so mean, except I’m not, because he was so very obviously trying (poorly) to flirt. Am I wrong to think he’s a total tool?

As a reminder, here is a picture of my left hand:

I suppose I should have gone for something less subtle, eh? (Please see the image to the right for reference.) I don’t like it, but it’s more obvious.

Now, seriously: Is it not obvious that I am wearing an engagement ring? Even if this guy wasn’t flirting at all, I’ve gotten that flirtatious vibe from a couple of people over the last six months. Don’t they get it?

When I met Will, he was still actively involved in theater. He had one of the leads in a production of Mad Forest, which is a weird fucking play. I’ve done some theater, but stopped being serious about it around age 12. I’d done one play in school, the semester before I met Will, and actually had a lead (which isn’t saying much as it was a three person one-act with a single performance), but it just wasn’t a big deal.

On the opening night of Mad Forest, I had stage fright. Really bad stage fright. I must have known at that point that I was head-over-heels in love with Will. In fact, I know I knew. But if I hadn’t, I think having stage fright on his behalf would have done the trick.

Right now he’s recording voice-over for the Lost Boys Special Edition DVD (for a segment on Vampires of the World). I dropped him off at a recording studio across the way from the Warner Brothers lot. By the way, should you ever have reason to be in this building, make sure you know the gate code. You need it to get out as well. Motherfuckers.

I think I need a stiff drink. Unfortunately, I can’t, because I have appointments this afternoon for wedding-related stuff, and while I have no problem showing up half in the bag, I’d have no way to get myself there. My DUI days* are long past.

Speaking of wedding crap, I should have a very amusing entry for you in the coming days.

*Oh, chill out. I only drove drunk once, and I had NO idea how drunk I was until an hour or so later.

Pardon my exuberance. I just booked tickets for our best friend on earth to visit us next week.

Will and I spent all day yesterday playing. We had plans with Rich that fell through. I must say, as sad as we both were to not see Rich, it was something of a relief, as we’d been social all weekend.

We started out the day with Charades. It got off to a bumpy start as we were trying to remember some of the important gestures and whatnot. Will is really good at it, and I am OK. I really stumped him on a few, though. I would love to try playing with a larger group of people, but some of the shorthand clues that we devised would be totally inappropriate. (Let’s just say that we came up with a sort of shorthand for “man” that will not be used in front of ANYONE.)

Later in the day we went grocery shopping and then picked up Chinese take-away. The drive home was torture, because we were so hungry and the food smelled so good. We needed a distraction, but Charades was out as Will was busy driving, so we tried this word game that Will overheard some guys playing when we saw Hellboy. We don’t know if it has a name, and are calling it “Predator vs. Nell” until we come up with something better. You describe a movie that is actually a hybrid of two movies, and the other person guesses the combined titles. My crowing achievement came with the clue “Keanu Reeves stars as an Enlightened man who has wacky adventures in China with talking animals.” The correct answer is, of course, “Doctor Doolittle Buddha.” That game was harder for me as nearly every time I came up with a great movie title it turned out that I knew absolutely nothing about one of the two movies (except obviously its name). My other favorite was “Jack Black co-stars in this World War II epic as a man who has to save his best friend, whose brothers have all been killed, from marrying a woman everyone hates.” That one is a little trickier as the titles don’t run together in the same way. See if you can guess.

I have a lot to say about them. I won’t be saying it at the moment, but please read this as a starter.

Please pay special attention to Matty’s comment, excerpted here:

My big problem with comic book movies is that there is no excuse for them to be bad. The source material is already storyboarded out right there for you in great detail. JUST MAKE THAT. We like that! That’s why you’re making the cocksucker in the first place!

I’d taken off my shirt and was washing my face. We went out tonight and I decided, in a rather out of character move, to wear makeup. When I wear makeup, I break out, so I try to wash it off as quickly as possible, and tend to do so in an apologetic way. I splash warm water on my face, then soap it up, then rinse. Then I soap up again and scrub with a washcloth. Then, if I wore mascara, I use eye makeup remover, then rinse off with the washcloth. Then I pat dry and apply moisturizer.

So I was standing there, in my jeans and bra. My fat little belly was hanging over the waistband of my jeans. I’m pretty skinny, but there is nothing even resembling muscle tone anywhere on my body.

Will was sitting on the toilet. Not using it as anything but a seat, just sitting there, watching me.

I asked him why.

He admired the way my breasts looked – larger than usual, but held in by my bra. He commented on my belly. He wondered if he would find it attractive if we had just met and this was the first time I’d had my shirt off in his presence. Before I could figure out what I thought about that, he decided that now, it is sexy. Because I am his wife (I argued that one). Because I am going to be the mother of his children (I glowed and blushed). Just because.

It’s pointless, it’s private. I just didn’t want to forget.

Thank god.

If I consume any more sugar, ever, somebody shoot me. I had a tummy-ache last night and have a rousing headache today, and I blame my willy-nilly consumption of jelly beans, chocolate chips and maple syrup (not all at once) entirely.

I tried to take a nap but my back is sore as well and I couldn’t get comfy.

I know a bath would fix it but I tend to get light-headed from the heat if I am already feeling poorly, so I can’t do that until Will gets home. Alas, when Will gets home we are going to a friend’s house. No bath for me.

And of course I am sitting here feeling sorry for myself when poor Marsh is having a ten billion times worse day. Everyone throw cake at her. Er, or something like that.