2003-11-02 - 8:32 a.m.

I have a feeling that Monday, my first week to do THE BILLING at the office, will involve to much panicked working for me to get in an entry, so I decided I'd do a weekend edition. I'm not looking forward to doing THE BILLING as every time it's mentioned our inventory manager screams and our service center manager yells "Does he have to? HE'S JUST A BOY!!!" and the horses outside our office start bucking into the air and whinnying in a terrified way. Poor horses . . .

But it'll all be okay, because Saturday was just about a perfect day.

Friday was not. The Rainbow costume didn't work out, and so I had to improvise a punk-rock Mother Mary costume (although it gave me some great new ideas for some theatre pieces). I was inspired by a pair of friends who came as Jesus and Female Jesus. As with many costumes, it had a lot more to do with attitude and sense of humor than actual clothing, involving such horrible jokes as saying to the guy dressed up as Jesus, "You know, I told you father that he needs to get up off the recliner and out of Heaven once in a while. He said he hated going to Earth because it was always too cold. So I said to him, 'Well then, you can go to Hell!'" Yeah, I know, but we were all hitting the mulled cider pretty hard, so it was funny at the time. I did get scads of compliments, though.

It was just that I was expecting something like a Bacchanal, where EVERYONE was in an INSANE costume and having a crazy ass time, but as with many things in Austin it turned out to be pretty low-key. Austin is a very chill city.

It was that chillness that made Saturday perfect. See, on Saturday I should have begun studying for the GRE for Literature, as I will be quizzed on the entirety of the English literary canon as well as portions of the French and Russian. Soooo not looking forward to it. However, when I woke up in the morning I decided to begin by having a relaxing breakfast at Cafe Mundi followed by an expedition to Waterloo Records to get a gift certificate for Miss Ginger Leigh, whose birthday that day.

Then I saw the sign. It opened up my eyes. It was there right above the door to the record store. It shone out like a beacon from above. It read: "Everything in the Store 20% Off."

I shed a thankful tear and went inside.

Within half an hour, I had 7 new CDs that cost $40. Used CDs are a gift from Heaven, my friends. Thanks to that sale, I am now only a few CDs away from replenishing my stolen collection. I also scored a bunch of new CDs. I highly recommend that everyone get Cornershop's When I Was Born for the 7th Time. It kicks quite a lot of ass.

Then it was off to Ginger Leigh's for her surprise party. I was timing my arrival very carefully, as I have spoiled more than one surprise party by showing up at the same time as the guest. An actual transcript from an event in high school:

B-Day Girl: Is that someone in the bushes?

Annoyed Hostess: It's some creepy stalker guy! Let's go inside!

B-Day Girl: No, I think it's The Notorious RRZ!

VERY Annoyed Hostess: No, it's a serial rapist, let's run inside the house. FUCK OFF, YOU CREEPY WEIRDO!!!

I felt really bad. But by the end of that night we were all drunk and didn't care, so ah well!

So imagine my horror when I saw Ginger come out of the house in a bath towel when I arrived. Fortunately, I had learned the power of improve from my former roommate and was able to casually play off my arrival. It didn't matter, though, as it turned out Ginger had blown off her hair appointment (the Distraction) and Miss Cindy Hill figured we might as well forget about the surprise. Ah, the tribulations of a rock and roll lifestyle . . .

We all had lunch (and by we I mean Ginger, Cindy, and various assorted friends) out on the lawn, a delicious Italian meal made by Miss Cindy and accompanied by Mimosas (oh, the thing I've done under the influence of Mimosas, not to mention the people). We chatted and I handed out some of my killer massages. The weather was beautiful and we were all nursing our hangovers with more alcohol, which is really the only way to do it. That was about the time when I realized that the day was just about perfect, one of those relaxing days where sitting out and looking at the sky is absolutely the right thing to do at that moment. There are days to have active fun and days to do work, but there are some days that just say, like a longtime lover, "Take me slow and easy, because I only come around every so often, and you don't know when we'll see one another again."

Eventually the hour grew late and I headed home. I had intended to work out and get some studying done but wound up falling asleep. I woke up laughing to Gabriel Iglesias on Comedy Central, who is someone to catch if you see his show coming up. I was then faced with a choice.

I could go out, spend $30, waste God knows how much time finding a parking spot, and not get any studying done, or I could stay in, workout, get started on the GRE, and turn in early.

I thought about it and thought about it, and I decided that I needed to go out. Because the $30 in question were on tickets to see MeShell NdegeOcello, and I decided that a day like that day would not forgive me for blowing a chance to see a great musician perform just to be responsible.

I got to the concert early, and decided to take a walk to BookPeople to check out the Cliff Notes, apparently the best way to study for the GRE. It was there that I realized that I had, in fact, spent a lot of time studying literature. Sure, there were gaps, but most of them were poems and the rest were manageable (knock on wood). I'm going to spend the rest of the day becoming best friend with my Norton Anthology, but last night I realized that if I can get an A+ in a class that I did none of the reading for, I should be able to handle the GRE, at least well enough to do decently (again, knock on wood).

MeShell was very good, if a little low-key (it's Austin, I swear). I headed home and found a present from St Caroline, which turned out to be a beautiful T-shirt extolling the necessity of the minibar (how true!). I went up and curled up in bed, sending her a thank you text message before I fell asleep.

All of this should go to show you that there are 24 hours in a day, which makes 168 hours in a week. If you have to work for 24 hours straight in order to party for 24 hours straight, do so. I definitely agree with those who argue that you should never call in sick when it's cold, rainy, and dreary out. Call in sick when the sun is shining, or when there's fresh snow on the ground to play in. Work hard and sleep hard, and when the perfect days come along, grab the champagne and OJ and love'em long and hard.

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