15 August 2000
The past few days, overall, have been pretty low-key. Here're a few excerpts:
Thursday-- Up at 7:30; work, as usual, till 5. Absolutely nothing of note happened between those two times. Moving on. Things were bound to get better, because Emily and I had made plans to go see But I'm A Cheerleader at the Lagoon in Uptown. At least I -thought- we had made plans: when I called her house at 5:30 or so to check up on things, her roommate hazily informed me that Em wasn't home, and that she thought she was at work and wouldn't be back till 11pm. Damn. I was just settling into moping around and feeling slighted when I got a call from Em on her cell phone. Our plans were back on, and, in fact, never off to begin with. It seems her roommates always assume that when she's not home, she's at work, which isn't always the case.
I had read some negative reviews of But I'm A Cheerleader, but figured that if not destined to be a classic, it would at least be a fun cinematic romp. And I was right-- it was the most fun I've had at a movie since, well, I don't know when. Yep, it was a lot of fun. The premise was fun (and relevant, given the latest hoopla over the "ex-gay" movement). RuPaul, out of drag, wearing a t-shirt blazoned the slogan "Straight is great!" and wearing a satiny electric blue version of a coach's outfit was fun. The array of high-school-aged "True Directions" 'recovering' gays (including a goth girl, varsity wrestler, smarmy goody-two-shoes, and, yes, a cheerleader) was fun. And Clea DuVall, my god, just watching her alone for two hours would have been fun enough. If all that fun in the form of a John Waters-esque campy flick sounds good to you, see it. If not, well, this movie isn't everyone's style-- certainly not the reviewers I read.
Saturday-- Colin, Lauren and I planned a "we all have birthdays in August" party for Saturday night, so I spent most of the day with Colin, pulling everything together. Irritatingly enough Saturday was also one of the hottest and muggiest days of summer yet, and all of our friends who have cars were nowhere to be found. As a result, we walked a hot mile to the grocery store, walked an even hotter mile back while carrying 3 heavy bags between us, took the bus to the liquor store, but walked the two blocks home from the bus stop burdened with quite a bit of beer. As if we weren't hot enough by that time, we then proceeded to bake two cakes in succession and cook a dinner for the three of us involving both the stove and the oven. Stupid, yes, but delicious.
The party went medium-well. About five the people I had invited who told me they were coming never showed up, so I was bit peeved at that. The party stayed fairly small, with no more than twenty or twenty-five people at its peak. That's probably for the better, since large parties in insane heat are more of an exercise in stamina than any real fun.
Sunday-- Sunday was the actual date of my birthday, so I made plans with Lauren and Colin the night before to have brunch in the morning. We went to Coffee News, a Macalester area coffeeshop previously unexplored as a breakfast venue. Colin had the blueberry pancakes, and Lauren and I both ordered a 'Donna's omelet', which turned out to be quite possibly the best omelet I've ever had. I think Coffee News just rose to top contender on my list of breakfast places.
After breakfast we laid out on the lawn on campus for awhile, and eventually headed back towards home. I spent a quiet afternoon, even went grocery shopping, of all things, before going out to dinner with Emily at the Mud Pie. I had my usual, an enchilada-style combo burrito (basically, a really big enchilada in a flour tortilla). I don't believe I've eaten any other entree at that restaurant in the 4 years that I've been going there. One of these days, I'm going to have to branch out. Maybe I'll get the enchiladas...
Since Sunday, I'm back on the normal work-week schedule. It is really getting old, I must say. I don't think I'm cut out for a permanent 9-to-5 job; I prefer more flexibility and variation. I know the "I don't like my job" bit is probably getting old to you all-- have no fear, I'll be done with the whole business in about two weeks, and not a moment too soon.
For all of you curious about what was in the mysterious birthday gift from my dad: It was one of those collapsable folding camping chairs, yellow and green with a Green Bay Packers logo on it. This is from the same man who bought me a bird watching book for my birthday two years ago-- what did I expect but something completely random?