Fringements..

So, as much as I'm currently ill, I've slowly been taking in Fringe plays. The first being "Neo Nancies: Hitler's Kickline". As good as it's name. Very arian young men in pumps and black undies with the stereotypical gay Hilter in the audience and the midget SS. Ironically, the actual storyline of the play is based on true events. There was indeed a play/performance where nazi officers were instructed and did dress in drag and form the chorus line during the performance of some swedish diva.

Now, *how* exactly someone delves into history to find out bits of info about strange things like, oh, 'Hitler's drag queens' eludes me. I know people who someone manage to find out stories about things like 'unexplained acts of destruction by Nikola Tesla's military experiments', or lost Russian submarines and what happened to them, but methinks this kind of tops them. It requires a special kind of talent, or luck, to find bizarrity like that in the world. :)

Today's was the 'Time Keepers'. Also about Nazi germany. Also about gay men, or one at least. A serious story though, for all it definately had amusing bits that lifted the 'doom and gloom' setting. Both plays were awesome.

It has me devotely wishing that my little bro were here to have seen them with me. He appreciates good theatre.

Also, watched the stereotyped diva and/or gay characters in the plays, I was struck once again with deja vu. The sort of deja vu that made me feel as though I should be out for coffee while observing this. Sweet merciful mercies, I know some drama queens.

Emergency stripping?

So, S called an emergency girls night this evening, as her cousin is in town.

Thus, my evening consisted of being stripped down and made really wet on the legislative park grounds, followed by showing up pantless at Naked and having photos taken with all the other pantless women present.

That's the short version.

Long version: Were supposed to show up to hang out on the grass and splash our toes in the fountains and wander around the legislative grounds. I figured, y'know, I'll get my feet wet, have really geeky literary and techy conversations with other women who show up to girls night, and meet S's cousin. But it was blustery, with a cold wind, and looked like it was going to rain by the time we showed up there. Thus, what happens (these being women who are apparently as contrary to the forces of nature as I am)? J-M and H start randomly stripping tops and pants off those assembled, and a water fight ensues. What few testosterone-loaded human beings passing by seemed to pass by exceedingly slowly, as some women thus particupating were a couple, or simply liberal with their um.. affections. If one can call fountain wrestling/dunking affectionate.

Then went to go find coffee at Naked.. a cyber cafe. The owner was both reasonably attractive and much amused. We had shirts, shoes, but no pants. Plus attractive girl legs. Dispite being very damp, sometimes wrapped in towels, we were allowed to stay.

All in all, a good night. Even the streaking up to the front door in my thong, as the towel I had possession of was not mine. My male gave me the *strangest* look at my coming into the house, giggling, damp and without pants. Heh. Funny how that happens.

It's been a while since social outing involved this much near-nudity and indecent exposure. I blame S and J-M. That's my story.

New goal - get hired at the bookstore where J-M and T work.

This weekend, yes, I did actually go out clubbing and being social. For once. I'm still debating whether to force myself to work on job applications or go help Q's cousin move. We'll see how I'm feeling.

Going to write letters on my new stationary, and go to bed. Adios.

Blessed Brothers & Beer

So, I went to the Heritage festival in one of the parks down on the university riverbank with my older brother tonight. I expected it to be at least decent, but it was awesome. Over 50 different countries/cultures had a pavillion of some sort, most of them large and cool. Lots of dancing, tons of food.

I got to figure out what cassava tastes like (Ugandan pavillion). I refused to stand in the horrendous line to get gelato, which I really wanted. I was reminded of Quinn's stories of Italy where you get your gelato, go to the back of the line up, and in the half hour or so that you would stand around talking and eating it, you *might* be close to the front of the line again to get yourself some more.

Also, bought my favoritest munchkin a baby tiny tea set. Pretty gold trim and no flowers. When she's old enough to understand that you don't bang dishes on the table or try to throw them, she'll get it as a present so she can join me and her mama when we sit down for tea. Plus, it didn't cost that much, so if she does manage to break it at some point I won't be the least bit put out. :)

The Romanian pavillion had little of interest to observe, except for the pamphlets which advertised a Beer Festival in the middle of September. Over 30 kinds of beer from around the world, Romanian wine, supper, entertainment, etc... Bless those who peddle good beer, for they bring joy to my heart and my palate. Hee. I'm currently trying to pimp the event to others, so hopefully they will come and join in the sweet sweet beer.

All in all, a good night.

So, I blame you...

I blame Carla for this, and Wade. I had given up blogging, and generally reading other people's blogs to kick my addiction to the internet. Having moved away and being poor about keeping in touch really makes minor addictions seem not so bad, somehow. :) So here it is. The product of my twisty brain. Enjoy, mock, or ignore as you see fit.