The Boy is at a board meeting tonight, thus leaving me to flounder about looking for something to watch that isn't Lost or Glee, since we watch them together. I'm testing out Dark Shadows Revival series. So far, I have laughed in places that I'm pretty sure weren't intended to be funny. I'm about three minutes in and have already heard a breathy voice over saying, "my journey is just beginning...a journey that I am hoping will somehow reveal the mysteries of my past...it is a journey that will bring me to a strange and dark place to a house high on top a stormy cliff at the edge of the sea...to a world I have never known, to people I have never met. People, who, until tonight are only vague shadows in my mind, but I will soon fill all the days and nights of my tomorrows" Wow. Has someone been reading a bit too much Wuthering Heights and V. C. Andrews? I can only hope those people she is meeting tonight are as in to her as she is apparently in to herself (says the lady writing a blog). What's up next? An inexplicably bloody rat in a box. What will happen next? You can stream it on Netflix to find out yourself. Guamaniac and I really need to knuckle down and write our own book of incest, murder, amnesic mothers, forgotten pregnancies, and dark places in damp small towns. Feel free to contribute. We are open to putting everything in our novel. Dark Shadows will surely give us good fodder for inspiration. Oh, WAIT, I forgot an important detail: The Governess! Of course Miss Sexy Voice Over is a governess. I'm sure she will have tons of scandalous sex with the man of the house.
After being treated to a lovely meal (steak salad, flan!) by The Boy, I came home to the daunting task of giving ET his shot for his staph infection. It was a lot easier than expected. He can try to hide his legs, but he's not a box turtle, so he can't fully hide his bits in his shell. Poor guy. Just four more to go--next one will be Friday night. I'll do that before heading out to the Raveonettes show.
Such a busy weekend planned. It kind of leaves me wondering who the hell I think I am. Where was Grumples stashed, and why did you replace her with this lady who wants to do things? No one can handle that. We like our Grumples napping on the couch. We can keep an eye on her that way. Raveonettes, Art City Austin (where I always get My Not So Secret Crush her birthday gift), Urban-Family Get-Together (theme: munchies, my contribution: magic cookie bars), and the Tosca String Quartet at the Drafthouse (featuring my favorite viola-playing lady) with new string quartets commissioned by the Golden Hornet Project (The Boy conducted one of these a few years back, and it was so much damn fun--I recommend Peter's works over Graham's, but Graham seems to be Austin's favorite homeless-looking composer [Graham, if you somehow stumble upon that last sentence, um, that is 100% my opinion and The Boy tells me to shut up when ever I mention your looks...hate me, not him, please]). Peter is the sweetest man I have probably ever met. Lovely blue eyes, too. Maybe I can pinch his cheeks on Monday. Maybe. Graham may sneer at me (he never remembers who I am, so I don't really worry about retribution for my less-than-flattering description of him). However, serious props to Graham for being talented and so damn dedicated. That goes for everyone involved with those groups. I have nothing but admiration for their talents.
Traces of human saliva in the wound? Oh, my! No! A tarantula. It's alive, not dead. His name is Terry. The dead rat's name was not discovered. How cute that little young Joseph Gordon-Levitt is. It's too bad that Dark Shadows Revival didn't last (due to the Gulf War [insert casualty joke here]), because his star did not exactly shine 3rd Rock From the Sun. However, he gained some ground with (500) Days of Summer, which couldn't have been very hard since Zooey Deschanel is a flimsy bit of wide-eyed prettiness whom I enjoy more when she is singing about cotton than to her acting. WAIT. Please don't infer from that statement that I like her band. No fucking way. I saw them a couple of year ago at SXSW. It was painful. She's a warbling bird of warbling squeaks and squawks. The highlight of that showcase was Noah and the Whale. British boys in tight blue pants and yellow shirts really make me hot. That sounds wrong. You had to be there. Laroux knows what I'm talking about, don't you?
Man, I'm in such a good mood, but look at all that judgmental I have been! I'll try again tomorrow. Been working on the budget with my boss. Seems to make me a bit punchy (in a very good way). I need more Excel in my life. Take three Excels today with your Wellbutrin and Celexa, and you'll be ruling the world in no time. Hopefully with cute British rocker boys.
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