1. Jack Black on Nickelodeon. That's right, bitches, I saw it. We watched the entire performance of some studio-birthed pre-teen mini-rocker band... whose name I have promptly forgotten, but their catchy chorus of "I don't wanna go to school!" is definitely a memorable stand-out. Hey, sing what you know, sparky. Let the feelings out. Let go of the rage. And this make confirm my spot on the 'going to hell because I am a horrible human' list, but all I could think about while I watched this little lead singer yell and glare and stomp around his rock-n-roll kingdom was, "Psh... good luck keeping this kid off drugs." Is that awful? But honestly, if you don't want all your little starlings to evolve into Pete Dohertys, don't dress them all like him, eh?
I digress. Ben, Eddy and I had just had our daily fill of Parker Posey (goddess) and were channel-skipping and happened upon the Jack Attack hosting the Nickelodeon kid's choice awards night. And allow me to insert my very strong belief that Mr. Black was wicked blazed during that opening number. Did anybody else see the whites of his eyes? No? Really? Me neither. Party on, Jackie-baby. Party on.
Anyway, some giant fuzzy sea creature costume wearing sunglasses (... at night) that was 'jamming' onstage with Jack is the basis for our next party venture/group identity.
The Rocktopus.
We are now calling ourselves 'THE ROCKTOPUSSY POSSE.'
This is one of our proposed costumes. [note that they are referred to as 'jumpin jammerz'... with a z. Like Liza.] Ben had the great idea to get us all the electric guitar printed sets and (drumroll) BEDAZZLE strets onto the guitars in the fabric. Ummm... hello fabulous!
We must host a whopping ballyhoo of a party based upon this theme.
Side note: Am I the only person in the 'under 30ish female' demographic who hasn't listened to these Jonas Brothers? Really? What is going on with that? Apparently I am tragically behind when it comes to what's 'in' with the youth of America. Which makes me really nostalgic for the primordial soup of grunge band culture that I emerged from during the early nineties. And based upon the coiffures of said jonas brothers, I feel that a more appropriate and entertaining band name for them could be Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail. Yes, even after watching all of 12 or so minutes of Nickelodeon, I can verify with all certainty that there exists only one truly trendy boy-cut... and not everybody is making the pseudo-skater-side-sweep-flippy-shag-thing work. Sorry, fellas.
2. Patsy and Eddie watched our favorite episode of AbFab - season one, ep. 3: "France." Watch it. Love it. Embrace the madness.
3. While I'm thinking of fashionable outrageousness, am delighted to report grand progress with the seasonal wardrobe switch. I have removed all things woolly and thermal from current main closet and folded them neatly in the corner of the room. (Obviously if I take the time to package, seal, and store them in their summer home above the luggage closet it will snow. With a vengeance.) So they remain stacked and colorized by the window... at least for a few days until my OCD gets the better of me.
And I had forgotten how fun summery clothes are! Anything to which the word 'diaphanous' may be applied is definitely my absolute favorite. Well, that and black turtlenecks. I guess I go from looking like some busty beatnik Sprocket all winter to a mix of the New Look and the costumes from A Midsummer Night's Dream. What can I tell you... if the shoe fits, buy two pair.
Exciting to see a visual manifestation of the changing weather and charged atmosphere that accompanies these first weeks of spring renewal. Ahh! Time for some greenery! Blossom, damnit, blossom! Besides, spring vintage dresses are always better than autumn/winter varieties. And definitely less likely to reek of mothballs or horrid fermaldehyde-esque granny closet. Bleh. Gross.
Oh and managed to evict yet another three bags of unncessary/unloved wardrobe rejects. To the glue farm for the lot of them. And by 'glue farm' I mean the family shelter on Allisonville. Very excited. Decluttering my life, one ugly sweater at a time.
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