2005-11-02 - 1:01 p.m.

First let me apologize for the fact that my colors aren't really what they should be yet. I'm just learning how to work this new template, you see I'm basically computer illiterate and even with a template I don't understand what all the stuff means so it's trial and error until I figure out how to make a color show up, but the MOST frustrating thing is that this template only seems to recognize basic color names, not any rgb codes or ##FFblah blah blah code which can give you more subtle colors.

So please be patient. I know that those purples at the bottom are probably killing you just like they're killing me but I'm working on it, okay? okay.

Now...on to the important stuff.

Splink (aka Blondie) and I took Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride into the city. Before leaving though I needed to break a large bill and decided that the best way to do that would be the grocery store (mistake). I ran around and gathered all of $4.46 worth of groceries before handing the girl my $100.00 bill.

Yeah, I was her favorite customer of the evening. The lady in front of me screaming at her kid and flipping out because there was a bee on her kid’s jacket wasn’t even in the running.

Splink managed NOT to kill us, or any of the lane drifting morons that shared our drive time experience.

I called Richard at 7 (the time we were supposed to meet) to update him on our progress. I got his voice mail and he called back. I answered the phone “I’m just in it for the Wookie” which Richard tells me is NOT a standard phone greeting.

We weren’t as late as I had feared; we were nearly in the city. Richard, for those of you who don’t know, has a VERY sexy voice. I got off the phone so that I could “navigate”.

Seconds later we both saw our exit. Only instead of being marked what the directions said it would be marked it was marked as the exit to a different highway. I made an executive decision NOT to take that exit (though in retrospect I think it would have been okay).

We got off at the next exit and after a few moments spent situating ourselves we were back on track.

We left Splink’s car with the valet at the restaurant only steps away from the theater and I took the valet ticket. (cue ominous music).

Richard and I hugged hello, I introduced Amy and we made our way inside.

Oh. Let me say how nice it was to NOT be the one driving, because I’m always the one driving and THEN when we got in the restaurant Richard went right up and asked for our table.

This seems like a small thing to you, I’m sure, but for some reason I always end up being the one who drives, the one who orders, the one who asks for tables or directions or whatever. Always. It was so nice to have someone else take charge.

I really appreciated that.

It’s the little things.

We ordered desserts (I had the rum cake which was DRENCHED in rum I tell you. DRIPPING with rum, sitting, in fact, in a considerable puddle of rum…this is important). One of us also had a glass of merlot (ahem) while Richard had coffee (decaf, for goodness sake please let it be decaf) and Splink stuck to her sparkling water.

We sat, we talked, we laughed, we made fun of me for not realizing that Marshall Dillon’s first name was not in fact Marshall but Matt, even though I did in fact realize that he was a Marshall. I bet there was at least one marshall in the old west who’s name was Marshall. There had to be.

Richard encouraged me to shoot the merlot our of my nose but honestly I’m too much of a lady (and I didn’t want to waste good merlot) so I slammed it instead.

At five minutes to 8 (the movie started at 8) we paid the check and started off for the theater next door.

Only for some reason I decided to look for the valet ticket. I should mention that Splink was nearly apoplectic about leaving the car with a valet in the first place. It was her first time and she’s seen too many movies. I desperately search my pockets for the ticket but it is not in my pockets. Richard and Splink both tell me it’s in my purse. I don’t believe it is, but I search the purse anyway and find no ticket. (Remember there was a lot of rum with the rum cake and I was FORCED to slam the merlot). I go back to the restaurant to see if I dropped it at our table, or perhaps left it as a tip for our waiter. As I’m heading back inside (after nearly going in the wrong establishment and then nearly passing the one I wanted) I mention to the valet that I lost our ticket. He asks what type of car it is.

So here’s the thing. I’m not good with observant. Yes, Splinky has had the same car for a couple years now and YES I’ve been in it countless times, but I have no idea what kind of car it is. So the valet asks me, “What color is it?” I respond, “Uh, silver?” He names all of the silver cars…



“I don’t think so.”


(should have said yes here) “Certainly not. Wait, I’ll have to go ask her.”

I run back to the street, barely able to control my laughter. “AMES! What kind of car do you drive?”

I go back “It’s a Chevy Malibu”.

Valet looks at keys…looks at me and says deadpan “It’s black.”

Then he sweetly asks if we need the car now, I say no, he asks if we’re going to a movie, I say we are, he asks the time of the movie I tell him when it starts and he says, “You don’t need your ticket, I’ll have the car ready around 10:20.”

He makes a note on the ticket. I’m confident that as long as this particular valet is the only one working here tonight he will remember us, so I happily inform the others that we don’t need the ticket and we can go right to the movie.

Oh, the movie was this:

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The theater is ridiculously large. There is no need for the largeness of this theater. It is three floors high and the second floor is simply a landing and nothing else. Silly.

Our movie is on the top floor so we head up. I had ordered and printed our tickets online and they said we could skip the box office, which we do. We get to the velvet rope and Mr. Enthusiasm Part 1 tells us he HAS to make us tickets so that we can enter to win a guitar signed by the members of Duran Duran.

Personally, I don't so much need that, but whatever. We get our tickets and wander down to theater 18 which it turns out is PACKED with duranies.

Even better, they are having the raffle right then and are giving us crap for being latecommers. Nice. So we stand around in the front of the theater while the "street team" works everyone into a frenzy.

Eventually we start to look for seats but find none together except in the second row. We choose each other over comfort cause that's how we roll and we end up staring up Andy Taylor's very sweaty nostrils for the next 2 hours and 20 mintues.

Andy is a disturbingly sweat prone fellow.

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I was a fan when Andy was a member but by the time I started up with the band Andy and Roger were long gone. I have a fondness for Roger that comes from stories I've heard and just his general aura, but Andy...not so much.

I say bring back Warren because he could play that damn guitar and really, if you gotta have someone sweating on you, wouldn't you rather it be this guy?:

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The movie was all concert and not the concert/documentary I had thought it would be and it was FAR too loud and the begining moved too quickly, but then, that may just be because we were sitting on the screen.

Part way through the movie it occured to me that there may be more than one valet working the restaurant and if someone came to the OTHER valet with the valet ticket for Amy's car it would not end well.

I said a little prayer and tried to refocus.

I'll spare you the technical details that ran through my mind for the most part, but I do have things to say to the people who ran the board that night. SHEESH.

All in all I enjoyed it. Charley was adorable and silly and just blissfully himself and even called me half way through the show (I simply hung up on him).

John's eyes are sinking so far into his head he'll be able to see through the lions mane in the back soon. (Sorry John, you know I love you, but DAMN)

The Tin Man (er, Nick) looked happy and healthy and more and more like Liberace every day, which I'm pretty sure is his life long ambition now that he realizes that he'll never be Andy Warhol.

There will probably be more about the Nick/Charley thing later, because it was pretty emotional to have to look at Nick every couple of seconds, especially to be shown his hands in extreme close up like that, but I just want to get through this entry some time today so we'll let the emo side of things slide for the moment.

I will say this, and if I can find a picture I'll share it as soon as I do, but Charley is growning a mole on his face to match Nick's and when it's done I'm very concerned that the MoleWonderTwins will hatch an evil plot to rule the world.

Everyone knows that's my job.

After the movie they reshowed "I don't want your love" (the worst version in the history of the song, by the way, though Sara was an excellent singer) in 3-d.

Looking back at the theater full of 3-d wearing duranies was like a surreal 50's moment.

When the movie let out they didn't put the houselights on so we scurried to the door like rats. The guy in front of me told Mr. Enthusiasm 2 that the houselights weren't on and he shrugged in the most "That's SO not my problem dude" way.

We ran to the bathroom (well, I did).

The stall door I had didn't lock, not only that it didn't shut. It would swing either out or in, but not shut.

I managed to do what I needed to do but had to let go of the door for certain more hand intense operations toward the end of my time in the stall and the door swung open just in time for some chick to get a great view.

whatever. I've peed in the Public Gardens, I have no shame.

After washing my hands I reapplied the darkest lipstick I own for reasons unknown to anyone and then looked in my purse and guess what I found?

Yes. The valet ticket.

I missed it the first 80 times I looked.
We're not talking about a big purse here.

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Splink took a photo of Richard and I in the lobby:

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Note my expression...I learned that from ANTM. If you want to see a larger version of that pic you can here

Oh, you can't see the sign we're holding clearly in the photos but this is it:

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After which we WALKED down two escalators (one of us backwards, you can guess right?) to the lobby.

Splink's car was outside waiting, we thanked the valet and said goodbye to Richard and headed home.

Of course Splink thought she knew the way and ignored my direction that we were headed in the wrong direction, then decided to listen, and then we ended up going the way I'd have gone in the first place if we never had any directions at all.

Which brought us by Club Cafe and even if you aren't going in, that's a good little kettle of memories.

So there you have it. Minus the Emo junk that you will probably get after I've had my lunch.

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