Last night I saw Repo - A Genetic Opera. Wow. It was a very dark and twisted musical starring Giles from the Buffy Series (Miss J turned me into a super nerd) and Sarah Brightman, among others. Because I was working while we watched, I didn't get to witness every moment, nor every gory detail, but again WOW. I can't really decide whether I'd recommend it or not - it's one of those things that if it would be your thing, you would probably discover it on your own.
On Saturday I worked as well - as usual - and while I had been hoping, against my best interests, for a slow night, fate had other plans. I knew it would be an interesting night when some of the first customers included a clown, a hobbit, and a toddler. There was a birthday party going on and it brought in a great crowd. I think it sounds silly, but I had been hoping to get members of the bluegrass/country community in the bar for a long time. Wish granted. Also, I wanted to note that the birthday "boy" who turned 41 that day appeared to me to be a very happy person. He looked young and you could see that smiles were not uncommon on his lips. I hope that when I'm 41, if I have some wrinkles, that they are all the smiling kind.
Friday I didn't work, I took the night off to attend Miss R's rockstar themed birthday party. In all honesty, I didn't see much of her that night (though I did spend some time with her early Saturday evening, along with Miss K) but I did spend a lot of quality time with Miss A. I had fun, even though I probably drank a little too much. One thing that struck me that evening was that I got a cold shoulder from some people I had really wanted to call friends. I guess not everyone you open up to will respond with open arms. Boo.
Thursday night was a night out as well. I think that means that Monday is a stay home night! I was hopping back and forth between the 'Vous and the Alaskan. Another night when I maybe drank too much. I'm not liking this pattern. I was discussing with Miss K the concept of the tall versus double in the world of drinking. She and I both enjoy a nice vodka-soda and tend to order a single shot in a pint glass - a tall. What we inevitably get, being friends with all the bartenders, is a double. And if I were feeling crazy and asked for a double? More likely a triple. The sentiment is appreciated, "I like you, have some more booze," the result is sometimes troublesome. Trying to count "drinks" when you aren't sure how many "drinks" you are actually consuming can lead to some interesting nights - or so I assume, since I have a not so clear recollection.
I've been informed that I've been made a star again. My friend Mr. J has taken interest in my political involvement in the past and asked me to be part of a commercial for Southeast's progressive talk radio station, and this time my sign is featured prominently in a segment about the protest. A rather terrible photo of me was also featured on the regional weekly's website. Just remember, the camera adds ten pounds. And an extra chin. And maybe also some unsightly blemishes. Reading the mudflats blog, I discovered that an Anchorage Protest featured some equally creative and equally pointed signage.
Looking back on all this, I suppose my life isn't horribly, boringly ordinary. I guess sometimes I don't appreciate stuff enough. Hmmm.