may 5 - may 12

sunday:
I meet up with Jules for our monthly breakfast and a movie thing, which curiously now goes down every other month. We swear we want to try better. This month’s installment goes down at Friendly’s. Who knew they were open for breakfast? Who knew it would be seriously that delicious? I order the four cheese omelet, that wins me over with the inclusion of pepper jack cheese, holla! I fill Jules in on the disturbing Disturbia movie event. She informs me that the bitches would have been sliced had she been there. Our movie choices are: Blades of Glory, Fracture, and I think that was it since Vacancy is no longer an option. So we go with Fracture. I heart Ryan Gosling, so I was okay with that pick. He and Anthony Hopkins both do a great job acting with what little they had to work with. While I didn’t hate it I would have been okay with renting it. What can you do? Jules was pretty impressed with the fact that I called the “twist” very early on in the movie. After I get home I hunker down for a three episode Scrubs-a-thon and get all caught up. How do you make one of my favorite shows, which is already insanely awesome, even better? Add a little Keri Russel! Hey, that’s always been my motto: everything is better when you add a little Keri Russel. I catch up with my sister and fill her in on my life, which basically just involves me reading paragraphs from this blog. Kidding.

monday:
I get a text from my sister telling me that she and her boyfriend became homeowners.

Sis: Holy crap, we bought a house!
Me: You’ll have to go out to celebrate. Are you freaking out?
Sis: Totally freaking out, I can’t tell whether we should celebrate or puke!

Some tv is watched, very little else happens on this day in may.

tuesday:
It’s 83 outside and I couldn‘t be happier. I’m rocking the new sunglasses pretty hardcore. I swing by chris’s for a haircut. This time, for like the first time ever, we both remember which blade attachment was used the previous time. I attempt to text G to fill her in on the night’s activities at the very moment that she texts me to ask me what’s going on later that night. After I watch the latest episode of the King of Queens I head north to pick up G. finding that it is still insanely warm I drive on the expressway with the windows down and the music very much turned up. At one point I am laughing very hard when I come across an old country song that was popular our senior year of high school. Do I turn it down or change it for fear of embarrassment? No I do not.

As I knock on G’s door I discover that I’ve missed a text message. It’s from G telling me to just call her when I get there so I don’t have to walk up the 3 flights to her place. We laugh at this because it’s something that would have happened on Three’s Company. Okay, I’m totally making that up. She tells me that she heard a car honking and wondered if that was my way of letting her know that I was in fact there. I assure her that it wasn’t me. And off to Cleveland it is. I love how we don’t really know where we’re going, can’t really make sense of the directions, so we just decide to wing it. Ehh, we’ll find it eventually. We travel several different directions on the city’s streets and eventually make it to an intersection where we see a car plow into the shirtless guy on a bike who is crossing in front of it. Well, we don’t actually see it happen, we hear tires squealing, see brake lights, see a bike fly in the air, and eventually see a guy stand up from in front of the car. I ask G if we should stop and she insists that we don’t. Such the good Samaritan that one. As luck would have it I look up and find the House of Blues one block over to my left. We snake our way through 100 orange barrels and find our way to the parking garage. $15?!? It was $5 the last two times I parked there. I am outraged at the injustice, but park there all the same. We discover that Bone-thugs-n-harmony are playing in the other room. G asks me what song they sang that was popular and I assure her that there is absolutely no way that I would know this information. So we stand in line with a million little kids all going to the bone show, and seriously look out of place. As we stand there, G slowly remembers the song, bit by bit, and sings it to me. We finally get in the building, after close to an hour of waiting in line, only to discover that our doors aren’t open yet. We are then instructed to wait in a second line. A line of like ten people. G is not happy about this. Not happy at all. I try to cheer her up by telling her that we went from being the oldest people in line to the youngest in this new line. She is not having any of that. We witness a cop flirting with an older lady in front of us, then handcuff her, then take her for a spin around the block on his motorcycle. A guy in front of us talks about seeing Guster live a few years back. G thinks he said Gus Turd and wonders if I like “him”. After laughing at her I explain that he is a they, and in fact not a turd. Ten minutes after the concert was to have started we are all still waiting outside and G begins to worry that Cary Brothers will come out and start singing and be sad because he’ll think no one came to see him. Then she tells me to look at a lady with a banana bag and I have no idea what she is talking about. I scour the crowd for a lady with a bag containing a bunch of bananas. Then she points and says, “no her bag is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S.” Again I laugh at her. While waiting we see a serious overabundance of lesbians and realize that the lesbian niche left vacant by Natalie Merchant and Lilith Fair has now been filled by Brandi Carlile. We finally make our way inside and make it a few feet away from the stage. G gets reunited with a beer and grows happier. We witness a large group of 50-somethings grow increasingly drunk right in front of the stage next to us. They talk the ENTIRE time Cary Brothers is attempting to sing. At three different moments the 20-something girls who are standing directly behind them, who actually want to see a concert, attempt to start a throw-down with the elderly crowd. Our eyes grow wide each time. Brandi comes on stage and blows everyone away. She is just, wow. The girl knows how to rock. My suspicions that she too is a lesbian are reaffirmed that night with the amount of women in the crowd telling her how hot she is. She continues to toss guitar picks into the crowd and at one point one falls by G’s feet. I joke and yell out, “there it is.” and of course G bends down, casually picks it up, and hands it to me. The crowd around her then spends the next ten minutes searching the floor for it. G’s stealh-like, much like a ninja. After the show I walk over to Cary Brothers to tell him how much I enjoyed his performance. We then make our way out of the building to discover a sorority girl selling mini pizzas for $5. G of course wants one, my promise to stop for food simply isn’t acceptable to her. So we walk down the street as she eats her pizza. “Do you want some? It isn’t good, AT ALL,” she offers. As tempting as that sounds I decline. A homeless man asks us for money, he tells us that he is needy. I inform him that G is unemployed and I am stuck at a dead end job, I ask him who the real needy person is. He keeps walking. I am then approached by another man attempting to sell me a diamond bracelet for "my lady", I smile and say no thanks. G is fascinated with my radio the entire drive home since it says who the singer is and the name of the song. We station hop for the next hour and find ourselves singing to a vast array of things. I drop her off then make my way to the steak-n-shake to gets me a shake. Yum.

p.s. to the much shorter Mat Kearney looking mother-fella with the painter’s cap slightly cocked to the side, a little stubble, tight t shirt, baggy jeans, flip flops, with the hairy forearms and the gold ring on your right hand (I know, but I’m willing to look past that), who yelled at the talking people, got excited when Cary Brothers played a song from Sixteen Candles, then pushed your way to the front, and spent the entire concert hoping up and down and bouncing around…I think I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I noticed that you were at the show alone. Just give me a call and we’ll fall madly in love within the week, then you’ll never have to go to another concert alone.

wednesday:
I text G to tell her that the song I was telling her about on our drive home from the concert the night before, Umbrella, came on as I pulled out of her place. I told her that I was going to call her but then remembered that she didn’t have a radio in her apartment. I myself would die without one, but she’s made it for four years. Four years! She mistakenly reads the text and thinks that after I left her place I went to this club called Umbrella where I heard the song I was telling her about. She even asks a neighbor if they have ever heard of the club Umbrella, and they assure her that they have not.

In other news, I’m so happy that the new people who just moved in behind me have a dog. I love waking up after just four hours of sleep to the sound of their beast barking. Even better is the fact that I’m unable to go back to sleep. They also have a mean little bitch of a child who screams at the top of her lungs. This promises to be fun.

It is Wednesday, but after my credit card bill last month and paying $45 dollars last night for two tickets and parking, I decide to hit the theater rather than the mall. Spider-man 3 it is. After reading Kia’s rave review of it I contemplate just waiting for it to hit the $1 theater at the end of the summer, but at the last minute I decide to forge ahead. Of course I liked it since we rarely agree on anything outside of Teen Witch, Popular and Roswell. I get her complaints of it, but none of it really bugged me that much. I thought it delivered on what it was: brainless summer eye candy. “bad/emo Peter Parker” was a bit much, and pretty much failed/was awkward to watch, but everything else was fine. After the movie I met up with the mom to take her for lunch for an early mother’s day celebration.

With 28 Weeks Later opening Friday and the Lookout hitting the $1 theater, plus my mother’s desire to see Lucky You (I know) and Georgia Rule (again, I know) when my sister hits town, I have a lot to squeeze in the next week. Can it be done? I’ll keep you posted.

thursday:
Lost (yikes) Jericho (made me cry, the whole walking in on the dad lying there dead was a bit too realistic for my liking) that's how the season ended? And it might not be back in the fall? So not cool. I haven't seen an injustice of this nature since Invasion left us hanging last year.

friday:
Of course I get stuck at work for like forever, thus thwarting my plan to catch an early showing of 28 Weeks Later. I plan to hit the theater Tuesday (free popcorn day!) after work for a matinee only to remember that I have a meeting for who knows how long after work. Damn the man. Have I mentioned that I hate my job? Mainly just in the summer. After work I pick up my mother so we can hit the hardware store to pick up her new door. She treats me to some DQ as a way of saying thanks. I get all caught up on Grey’s Anatomy and the Office. G sends me a text to see if I’ve watched this week’s Real World episode yet. She informs me that she thinks they are all whores, and that she hates Collie especially because her name looks like a dog breed. I tell her I don’t think the editors like Brooke very much because this week’s installment was not very flattering to all that is the Brooke.

saturday:
A blur of drunkenness, and pizza.