One of those days
Saturday was one of those days that makes you look around and go “what the…” at the end of the day.
-Went to the DIY Trunk Show with Eliina, where hipster-crafters were sellling things like stationary, t-shirts, soap and jewelry. All delightful things, and Eliina found a cool necklace, but sadly I couldn’t rationalize purchasing a damn thing. It was a lot of Cutely Ironic all in one room. We ended up at the KMart across the street, where we gorged on greasy garlickly Crazy Bread and Diet Pepsi, eaten while sitting in the “Internet Cafe,” which is a counter with some computers on it stuck against the wall near the checkout. The kids next to us were eating Crazy Bread with their mittens on. Afterwards we took a grand tour of the KMart, where I lusted after some Joe Boxers pajama pants in the boys section, but sadly they were out of the larger sizes. I thought they’d make great yoga pants. Eliina coveted the Martha Stewart cake stands. We were also appropriately creeped out by all the life-like babies staring listlessly in their plastic prisons. And we spent way too long playing with the Spanish/English toys that are supposed to help you learn the alphabet. We decided to go home, but I realized I hadn’t bought anything all day, and that was the purpose of the long soujourn to the DIY Trunk Show. So I popped a quarter in the vending machine on the way out and ended up with some “bling”: A fake-gold chain with a music note on it. Bling bling.
-Had dinner with Caleb, which resulted in one of those philosophical conversations about the nature of life and art, a good old-fashioned mindfuck to go along with the Thai curry and green tea.
-After dinner, browed a used bookstore and took home some Charles Darwin. Because why not read about survival of the fittest? That’s all everything seems to be these days.
-Went to Jeff’s show at Mullen’s, a really smart and funny show that left me remembering why improv can be magical if done well. (Bad improv makes me want to stab my eyes out. Hence my recent self-loathing.) The after-party turned into a dance-off that will go down in my memory as one of the goofiest spectacles of all time. Craig dying in Henri’s arms, dramatically and Dickensian-like, while the refrain “I just died in your arms tonight” played will probably be burned in my brain forever.