01.21.02 :: 12:01 pm
Fuck it, you know, because everyone normal has this day off. I want it off as well.
The party was a total freaking success. Everyone had fun and there was plenty of booze to go around (many times over) and Dance Dance Revolution has been ingrained in everyone's psyche because it's not a party without it, you know.
I looked around me, while spinning in my new living room, and there were all my girlpals spinning around with me. It's a feeling closesly resembling geek pride and utter abandon.
IHOP hit the fucking spot, I hafta say, the next day. Nothing like feeding an urpy belly full of blueberry pancakes and bacon.
So much for the diet.
Speaking of the necessity for a diet, guess who's going to a fucking bridal trunk show next Saturday morning? THIS guy.
Because the prices are low and I am geekily excited to meet the designer of the fabulous dress I so want to own. Because I want to touch it's fabulosity and twirl around in it in a roomful of giddy-crazed brides-to-be and know we're all thinking the "oh my god, look what we're doing, you and you and all of you are crazy, and so am I, and this will soon be for real" thoughts.
When I first photographed the church in 1995, before everything serious between us, even then, a premonition started growing. Where you look at the picture a year later and think "It will look nice in a wedding album," before you can even stop your head from saying it.
Sometimes my guts are never subtle.
Today is a day to play drums and sink into Mr. Bubbles.