I Is So Excited!

^___^

My costume for act two has evolved from a vague idea to full-blown awesome. My skirt is under construction to convert from ankle-length to a short-in-front and long-in-back number. I have a red waist coat with black velvet "filigree" covering it. I get to wear fishnet wrist gloves and thigh-highs. I have a beautiful red and black satin breath-inhibiting corset. And the icing on this multi-tiered, pudding-filled cake? I will be wearing my stiletto heels. These are not just any stiletto heels, mind you. These are the very heels that I wore in my first ever lead role as Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors. This pleases me immensely. Immensely.

Imma described my new look as very Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge!. Need I say how elated I was to hear that? I didn't think so.

Random tangent! This afternoon, as I was about to take my adorable panda mug to the break room to scour away the remnants of my PG Tips, my Security buddy, Travis, stepped around the door frame and nearly collided with me. We stopped to chuckle at the near miss. I grinned, held up my mug and informed him that I needed to wash my dirty panda. We laughed with great enthusiasm and decided that a dirty panda is something you can probably buy on a dark corner for ten bucks.

In addition to all this awesomeness, I got to make some creative contributions to my costume tonight. Becki was lamenting over our lack of a parasol, which I need for an exchange with Bob's lovely portrayal of Cecily. As Imma cinched away my will to live in the oh-so-sexy corset, the solution slammed into my head like a hooker taking a Dirty Panda. I remembered a relic of my youth tucked away in my garage. I took riding lessons as a girl...I mean, when I was young. I've always been a girl. Well, a female anyway. I think I'm generally considered a woman now. I own a riding crop. Who the hell needs a parasol when you have a fucking riding crop? I think I just might pee where I sit if I think about it much longer.

Let's add another layer of happy, shall we?

Another of my props is a lorgnette. Becki and Earl have constructed a very steam punk contraption out of toilet paper tubes and some wire. There are two thick wires that extend from the bottom then curve up to frame my face as I look through the tubes. I posed a possibility to Becki and Earl, and the response was delightful. I asked, "What if we actually mount the lorgnette to my arm?" Awesome. Now, my hands will be free for my purse, my flowers, and my riding crop. And it's extremely steam punk to have such mechanical wonders utilized so casually.

Dave is definitely going to have to burn this chair by the time I finish tonight's blog.

Let's throw some road flares on top of this cakegasm! Because candles will never do in glee of this magnitude.

Edy and I went to our favorite haunt, Taiwan Buffet II, to harass the lovely Carissia and enjoy some good ol' grub. Not grubs. That would be gross. I meant food. People food. Not food made of people. Food made for people. ...Moving on.

When we arrived, Mary, the owner's daughter quickly introduced us to the fish inhabiting a new aquarium next to the register. Edy gave a quick acknowledgment then moved on to the food. I stayed and learned all the little guys' names, making sure to pronounce them properly. I'd hate to insult my new hosts. They might blow bubbles at my food. Anyhoo, after learning the identities of the fish, one little fellow remained. When I asked what his name was, Mary cheerfully replaced, "I want you to name him!" Aaaw! The Pesh is loved! Publicly even! The name came to me instantly. It was too obvious not to blurt it out.



His name is Karl. Karl with a 'K'. He's got a stripe of fucking orange.

I hope he's at least half as amusing for the restaurant's customers as the man with a head like a fucking orange, Karl Pilkington, is for me.

That's it. Dave's chair is done for.

A sexy song!

"Ideals are like stars; you will not succeed in touching them with your hands. But like the seafaring man on the desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them you will reach your destiny." ~Carl Schurz, address, Faneuil Hall, Boston, 1859