say you'll love me forever...
Sep. 12th, 2004 05:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oiranBig Gay Disco postscript: Apparently, last night when I bought a bottle of water at the bar, instead of handing the bartender the $5 bill from my pocket (for water + tip), I handed him the $20. I suppose it would have been difficult for him to get it back to me...but I still think he should have tried. A $20 bottle of plastic-flavored water.
Is it really a drag show if all the girl does is mince out onstage in a revealing dress and stand there accepting bills from her admirers? Hell, even I could do that. Rhi and I discussed the possibility of becoming female impersonators, thinking that we might have a slight advantage over the men who typically do the job.
Rhi has gone home without us accomplishing anything we claimed we were going to do. Instead, we sat around in our pajamas, read porn, talked about character motivations, and made exceedingly random food choices.
I missed the end of the QaF season, so Rhi brought tapes and we watched 411 and 412 last night. I love Emmett, and I love Emmett in eyeliner, and the scene with Em and Drew at Babylon made me giddy with delight. Until it wasn't true. I'm still really quite upset about the difference between fantasy and reality, though of course it gave Em another opportunity to make a Brave Little Queenie speech.
If they don't let Emmett have a wonderful boyfriend who doesn't die or mistreat him before the end of the series...well, they'll just really suck.
Mr. Glove is in Florida. He's supposed to come home today, but I don't know when, and I can't get him on the phone. So, the obvious conclusion is that the hurricane has hit him, specifically, well in advance of hitting everything else, and that he is dead and I am alone and unloved forever and ever. I think my typical anxiety about these sorts of things is being exacerbated by a stealth hangover.
Is it really a drag show if all the girl does is mince out onstage in a revealing dress and stand there accepting bills from her admirers? Hell, even I could do that. Rhi and I discussed the possibility of becoming female impersonators, thinking that we might have a slight advantage over the men who typically do the job.
Rhi has gone home without us accomplishing anything we claimed we were going to do. Instead, we sat around in our pajamas, read porn, talked about character motivations, and made exceedingly random food choices.
I missed the end of the QaF season, so Rhi brought tapes and we watched 411 and 412 last night. I love Emmett, and I love Emmett in eyeliner, and the scene with Em and Drew at Babylon made me giddy with delight. Until it wasn't true. I'm still really quite upset about the difference between fantasy and reality, though of course it gave Em another opportunity to make a Brave Little Queenie speech.
If they don't let Emmett have a wonderful boyfriend who doesn't die or mistreat him before the end of the series...well, they'll just really suck.
Mr. Glove is in Florida. He's supposed to come home today, but I don't know when, and I can't get him on the phone. So, the obvious conclusion is that the hurricane has hit him, specifically, well in advance of hitting everything else, and that he is dead and I am alone and unloved forever and ever. I think my typical anxiety about these sorts of things is being exacerbated by a stealth hangover.
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no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 03:50 pm (UTC)Hope everything is fine with Mr Glove. I'm sure it will be. I do that exact thing too.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 03:59 pm (UTC)Mr. Glove is so not allowed to die a fiery death or drown or have gale-force winds blow lawn ornaments through his skull. But until he gets home, I'm going to be at least 50% certain he's dead. I'm an idiot.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-13 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 05:11 pm (UTC)Pfft. Don't be silly. First of all, of course he hasn't been affected by Hurrican Ivan; nobody with an ounce of style would allow himself to be carried off by a storm with such a ridiculous name.
Secondly, if something did happen to him, I've already talked to D, and we'd be happy to invite you into our home as our second wife. (Well. His second wife. You would, naturally, be my first wife.)
no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 05:27 pm (UTC)obsessively worrying overwatching Ivan almost non-stop since I got home last week. If MisterG is on his way home today, he's well ahead of the storm.no subject
Date: 2004-09-12 06:34 pm (UTC)We could so do it!
Mr. Glove is perfectly healthy and on his way home to you!
Ivan combed my hair this morning.
Date: 2004-09-12 08:46 pm (UTC)Here I am. Sorry I didn't call, but I didn't want to wake you at the Oh-so-early-hour of 2 in the afternoon. Then I got on my plane, to be carried home to you, my beloved.
Here are some, commas of, love.