Dear Diary (Blog),
Sorry I’ve neglected you this week! I’ve been super busy being overcommitted socially and generally having a fabulous time eschewing work and all responsibilities. But don’t think I didn’t miss you, Diary! <3 <3 <3
So listen to what’s been going on:
Last weekend I went to a couple of bar-type events. At one we played that fantastic new game, Cards Against Humanity. I have to tell you, Diary, CAH is SO MUCH BETTER than that boring Apples to Apples game everyone is always trying to get me to play, and not just because I almost won the “__________ + __________ = Profit” hand with ‘Tentacle Porn’ and ‘Pixellated Bukkake’*. Beyond the winning, there was also learning, which you know is really important to me. When I got the ‘Seppuku’ card, I had to look it up, but now I will forever have the knowledge of what Japanese ritual suicide by disembowelment is called (is it just me or do the Japanese have an unusual amount of ways to commit ‘ritual suicide’? Like maybe I just can’t think of any right now, but I feel like America doesn’t even have one national ritual suicide method.). The point is, CAH is the bomb (people still say ‘the bomb’, right?) and I have to get my own, Diary. I do have to say, though, it was a little disturbing just how much glee BFF Rebecca got out of playing cards like ‘dead babies’. She’s really good at that game.
Anyway, Diary, I also went to this fun/weird dinner thing with some random people I went to high school with. It was just the kind of thing I really like because it involved people I sort of know, but not really, and cocktails. It’s hard to go wrong with a combination like that, right? I also love how you think people are a certain way in high school and then everyone grows up and 20ish years later you realize they’re a completely different human being than the stereotype you had of them in your head.
I did wake up both mornings after these events with a touch of the ‘boy am I loud and embarrassing’ self-loathing and regrets, Diary, but then I realized someone has to be that person or there’s nothing to talk about the next day, so I guess I’m ok with occasionally (usually) taking one for the team. And I’m sure the girl who said to me, “So you think hugging is awkward but you’re fine with randomly grabbing my boobs?” meant it in that, “Wow, isn’t that interesting and not at all invasive or inappropriate!” sort of way, don’t you think, Diary?
So last night, Diary, I went to the Pink concert. P!nk? Is that how I’m supposed to write it? Two days ago I Facebooked about how I want to buy tickets to see ‘FUN’ when they come to Phoenix in September and my sister and Jason were both super humiliated by the fact I didn’t realize it’s ‘fun.’. Sorry, Ironic Use of Overly Casual Lowercase Letters and Punctuation, I didn’t mean to embarrass you by being enthusiastic.
Anyway, Diary, my girl, Pink, was FANTASTIC. No, like really. I think I might have a new BFFAEAE. I’m not saying I’m going to start stalking her, but I’m not promising I won’t either. She’s just so talented and gorgeous and funny and the show was AMAZING. LIKE I JUST WANT TO WRITE IN ALL CAPS FOR AWHILE. THAT AMAZING. Plus, my brother from another mother, Todd E. Merrill, hooked us up with suite tickets so we totally had our own bathroom and could take off our shoes and dance without worrying someone would steal our purses. I kind of don’t think I can go back to sitting in the seats with all the commoners like ever again, Diary. I’m ruined.
Pink started the show with ‘Raise Your Glass’ and I almost peed myself with excitement because that is my jam. Like when I’m running and it comes on I get so excited because DUDE: I will also never be anything but loud and a nitty, gritty, dirty little freak! I mean I sincerely believe that about myself! It’s like she’s talking to my soul. Or about my soul. Or something.
I bet Pink sometimes wakes up with a bit of the self-loathing and regrets for being ridiculous the night before, too, Diary.
And then she did a bunch of like super awesome acrobatic numbers where she bungeed and flipped on silks hung from the ceiling and there was a ton of awesome dancing and I’m thinking of trying out to be one of her backup dancers, is what I’m saying. She’s almost the same age as me, so if I email her and explain how we’re practically twinsies at heart and that I’ve taken like 5 trapeze classes and also I’m a mom, like her, she’ll probably let me audition if not just bring me straight on, don’t you think, Diary?
Speaking of age, Diary, I was a little nervous going in to this show that we were going to be the only old ladies in a sea of teeny boppers, but it turned out the show demographic was mostly 30-50 year old women. Plus, there seemed to be a significantly high percentage of lesbians in attendance. Although this last fact really shouldn’t surprise me, I guess, considering 3 of the 6 women in my group decided to add Pink to the list of their celebrities they’re allowed to sleep with if they ever get a chance, after the show last night. I can’t tell you who, because I’m not sure they’ve all alerted their husbands of this list alteration yet, Diary, but their names rhyme with ‘Who-lian’, ‘Fo-fecca’ and ‘Schwebbie’.
Whew. I think that’s most of the dirt, Diary. It’s been a fun week. I promise I’ll update you more often from now on.
Love and Kisses,
*You’re not allowed to be offended that I wrote that because if you already know what it means you’re just as bad as I am and if you don’t then you don’t even know what to clutch your pearls about anyway. Unless you just Googled it to find out… don’t Google it.