What makes this evening, November 18th:
- Juno. Or at least the last 30 minutes of it. I have a bad habit of watching movies in fits and spurts. I started Juno about a month ago, and have been, give or take, watching it 30 minutes at a time. And the good news about this is that you can successfully watch it this way - in fact, I almost recommend it over seeing this in one sitting. Two things make it this way. First, anything Minnesota-related moves at a slower and more comfortable pace than in many other states. Even Minneapolis. So you can get into it easily. And although I'm a huge fan of snark, Juno herself is eons beyond. Small doses go a looooong way.
- Purple potatoes. Cookin' 'em as I type. Should be ready in about 20 minutes. That's my dinner. Why? Well...
- Some weird virus. I've been fighting something or other for a while. HATE sore throats. It reared its ugly head last night. Won't bore you with the details (and they really are boring, not gruesome...do I really need to describe what a fever feels like?), but they were debilitating enough to necessitate me calling off work this morning. And a workout. And a meeting with four people about my business. (One that was already rescheduled.) The day was just filled with exciting naps and naps. And when I get sick, I generally don't eat much. But for some reason, these purple potatoes on the counter were calling me. I'll tell you how they are in a bit.
- Kathy Griffin: Whores on Crutches. I'm not one of "Kathy's gays." But I do enjoy her comedy.
- Rebel Without a Cause. Will go on shortly after KG. One of the most influential movies in my life. Srsly. Through most of high school, I wore button-down shirts and Dockers almost exclusively. A friend of mine once asked me to sing "Runaround Sue" with him in our high school talent show. In 1950s drag: t-shirts and jeans. Except I didn't have any jeans. Fact! But after watching James Dean in action, all that Alexander Julian and Polo became obsolete overnight. T-shirts and jeans were ALL I wore the following year. And that movie, for some reason, just liberated me.
- Kiss. The Prince song. One of my friends who lives in Longmont raved about a new karaoke venue up there, in a nice, spacious auditorium. So a bunch of us boys from the local gay choir drove up 40 miles late last night to warble. Won't exaggerate: I sang "Kiss," and brought the muthafuckin' house DOOOWN. And this was amongst the likes of Luther Vandross, Phantom, Josh Groban, and Patsy Cline. A few guys didn't think I could pull off the high notes at the end. Pfft. Whatever. (Other songs I sang that were hits: Rufus Wainwright's version of "Halleujah" and Michael Buble's "Sway.")
Oh, and the purple potatoes? Not bad.