Hair Day was fantastic. Sebastian made my hair a "tone" darker than he usually does, so let me tell you people, I am one red-headed tomato with all kinds of fabulous highlights. I haven't washed it yet, so it's still pretty straight and glam looking.
The only downside of Hair Day is Sebastian's evil devil cats to whom I am horribly allergic, so I have to take a benedryl before leaving San Francisco. I had a coke with brunch. (California burger-avocado, jack cheese, bacon. Yummmmm.) But since I was a little zonked from running on Saturday, the caffeine wasn't a match for the bendryl so I was kind of happy, dizzy, wonky. About as close to being fucked up as I can get, since I'm clean and sober.
My friends David and Greg were there, just in from some a big leather weekend up by Mendocino. Greg looked very fetching with a chain and lock around his neck and they were both full of tales of what kind of sex they'd been having and with who and in what positions etc etc. So I decide to join the TMI brigade and share with them as well. (No, I'm not sharing it with you. Let's just say it involves some of the Torchwood/DW smut I've been reading lately.)
As promised I tried "Sunset Boulevard" raised two half steps and it was a lot better. It's short and fast, two things I really require in my karaoke songs. I don't do ballads at all and I'm not one of those people (cough cough Vince!) who will get up there and do 6, 7, 8!!!! minute songs which the whole bar glares at them.
I also tried Boulevard of Broken Dreams(Green Day), which I need to learn better, Millenium, A Picture of You (very kinky lyrics if you think about it) and a few others which are escaping my brain right now.
I went home and we watched a documentary called Who The Fuck Is Jackson Pollock? about a woman who may or may not have found a Jackson Pollock at a thrift store and what happens as she tries to get it authenticated.
Around 10:30PM, I started putting up the RPS, which took a while because I had to break it into two parts. This is my first fic to ever go over the posting limit. I didn't finish till midnight.
Dragged my ass to work for a pretty cruddy day yesterday. Nothing special. Just crud. Luckily I was able to get out on time to go see Hairspray with Frank. We pretty much had the whole theater to ourselves so we could loudly snark at all the trailers. That new movie with John Cusack? Not, just a NO!, but a NEGATIVE NO! NONONONONONO! You couldn't pay me.
Anyway Hairspray was really great. Just happy and fun with enough social conscience and a bit of an edge to keep it from being sappy. As current musicals go the songs were very good, all the different style pastiches hitting the right notes.
Queen Latifah was especially awesome, her big anthem number was beautiful. I love that woman.
And of course--John Travolta--in a dress! I spent the whole damn movie trying to figure out who he was channeling for that voice. By the end of the film I had decided on a cross between Cher and The Church Lady, but it didn't hit me until I was in bed that he was really doing Carol Channing...I mean but exactly, or at least Carol Channing as done by Rich Little or Fred Travelina on a 1970's variety show. But hey, the man can still DANCE in a fat suit and a dress and high heels so props for that.
Frank got a little miffed when they snuck in one of the moves from the dance in Pulp Fiction, but I didn't mind. Anyway, definitely a fun movie and I would highly recommend.
Got home around 10ish and did not write. However, I've got a notebook with me today and hope springs eternal.