B is for Bachelorette
Jun. 22nd, 2005 07:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flexagonWell, that was one strange and emotional bachelorette-party weekend... I had no time at home, so all the little things in my life are obscenely out of whack. On the other hand, I got to spend it in Manhattan, the center of the universe. :)
S is for Scary drive down. I'm not sure what was worse, the driver repeatedly taking her hands off the wheel to clap along to songs or the moment when the other girls decided to whip out a reefer in the middle of Hartford (I really, really would have preferred waiting for the highway).
I is for Insidious voices in my head -- or were they emanating from the skyscrapers all around? You could live here. You could live here. If I ever were foolish enough to move to Manhattan I would never come out -- like I don't know this! And yet when I'm there I want it to eat me alive. It takes a certain effort to remember that it isn't home (yet) and I have someplace I love living (still) and there are certain advantages to being a bit less urban.
L is for Lust... there was a very very affectionate girl at this party who reacted with definite disappointment at dinner when noticing I was married. I thought she was joking, and then decided with some shock that she wasn't, entirely. I was in a strange enough state at that point that I wasn't entirely disinclined myself. Her attention turned away from me later in the night, which was mostly a relief, but not before I had time to think a lot of entertaining thoughts. That's the first time in oh, like, forever, that I've been worried that I'd have weird apologies to make to HLM. I told him as much the next day, and he said I would definitely owe him an apology if I hadn't done anything (and then I wasn't sure what percentage of that was a joke either... definitely more than 0, less than 100). Well, I did feel her breasts and give another girl a lap dance, and that's about as adventurous as I felt like being, so it'll have to do. :) This definitely marks the first time I've had being drunk make me feel any more attracted to anyone, though I know it happens to lots of people all the time.
T is for tired. Dancing on rooftops is fun, but clubs are still just too noxious and loud for me, and 2:00 is quite late enough. So T was also for Taxicab. How amazing it is to see so many people out at that time of night, and looking so good!
Q is for Avenue Q, which I saw with HLM the next day (the party ended at noon, so he came down in a bus and met me at 12:30). It was definitely a blast. If not quite worth the money, well, if you are going to spend $95 for a ticket this might be the show to choose. They did some really great things with the puppets -- sometimes having two people doing one puppet (or the reverse), sometimes passing a puppet off between people even though the same person would keep doing that puppet's voice. Also, there were little cartoon video clips integrated with the performance in a way that was very Blue Man Group. I have to wonder if they'll release those clips to local theater groups, if someday they do start letting people do it. Anyway, highly recommended.
S is for Scared again. We caught a Greyhound back, so at least I was in the hands of a safe, professional driver. Even so, about halfway back I started crying because I'm scared of poverty and everything suddenly seemed so fragile. Precisely the kind of bizarre freakout I would have expected while drunk, but not this time... it just lay in wait for me until it had time to pounce. No fair! My bug tried to reassure me, and I sort of calmed down. And I'm also sort of still thinking about it. :b
So -- it's nice to be home. I have a cute little handbag, still no period (15 days late now, and when do I get to try my mooncup? I'm about ready to crawl up there looking for the damn thing) and a card from a silly bachelorette card game that says Tell A Geek How Sexy He Is! Words to live by.
S is for Scary drive down. I'm not sure what was worse, the driver repeatedly taking her hands off the wheel to clap along to songs or the moment when the other girls decided to whip out a reefer in the middle of Hartford (I really, really would have preferred waiting for the highway).
I is for Insidious voices in my head -- or were they emanating from the skyscrapers all around? You could live here. You could live here. If I ever were foolish enough to move to Manhattan I would never come out -- like I don't know this! And yet when I'm there I want it to eat me alive. It takes a certain effort to remember that it isn't home (yet) and I have someplace I love living (still) and there are certain advantages to being a bit less urban.
L is for Lust... there was a very very affectionate girl at this party who reacted with definite disappointment at dinner when noticing I was married. I thought she was joking, and then decided with some shock that she wasn't, entirely. I was in a strange enough state at that point that I wasn't entirely disinclined myself. Her attention turned away from me later in the night, which was mostly a relief, but not before I had time to think a lot of entertaining thoughts. That's the first time in oh, like, forever, that I've been worried that I'd have weird apologies to make to HLM. I told him as much the next day, and he said I would definitely owe him an apology if I hadn't done anything (and then I wasn't sure what percentage of that was a joke either... definitely more than 0, less than 100). Well, I did feel her breasts and give another girl a lap dance, and that's about as adventurous as I felt like being, so it'll have to do. :) This definitely marks the first time I've had being drunk make me feel any more attracted to anyone, though I know it happens to lots of people all the time.
T is for tired. Dancing on rooftops is fun, but clubs are still just too noxious and loud for me, and 2:00 is quite late enough. So T was also for Taxicab. How amazing it is to see so many people out at that time of night, and looking so good!
Q is for Avenue Q, which I saw with HLM the next day (the party ended at noon, so he came down in a bus and met me at 12:30). It was definitely a blast. If not quite worth the money, well, if you are going to spend $95 for a ticket this might be the show to choose. They did some really great things with the puppets -- sometimes having two people doing one puppet (or the reverse), sometimes passing a puppet off between people even though the same person would keep doing that puppet's voice. Also, there were little cartoon video clips integrated with the performance in a way that was very Blue Man Group. I have to wonder if they'll release those clips to local theater groups, if someday they do start letting people do it. Anyway, highly recommended.
S is for Scared again. We caught a Greyhound back, so at least I was in the hands of a safe, professional driver. Even so, about halfway back I started crying because I'm scared of poverty and everything suddenly seemed so fragile. Precisely the kind of bizarre freakout I would have expected while drunk, but not this time... it just lay in wait for me until it had time to pounce. No fair! My bug tried to reassure me, and I sort of calmed down. And I'm also sort of still thinking about it. :b
So -- it's nice to be home. I have a cute little handbag, still no period (15 days late now, and when do I get to try my mooncup? I'm about ready to crawl up there looking for the damn thing) and a card from a silly bachelorette card game that says Tell A Geek How Sexy He Is! Words to live by.
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no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 05:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 08:02 am (UTC)I understand about the "It's so fragile!" freakouts. All too well.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-22 10:49 am (UTC)If you didn't already get the Avenue Q soundtrack, I can make you a copy.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-23 06:53 am (UTC)