This weekend was really terrific. Friday night was the 3rd birthday party for my 30th birthday pie, and it went swimmingly well. A bunch of people were there at Jerm's, and the ones that weren't able to attend were very sorely missed (though the calls, voicemails and text messages ROCKED! I heart my friends...). Highlights of the evening included Boutell fixing my TI99/4A in 8 seconds after Jeremy and I tooled with it for a half-hour, a rollicking game of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, Weatherman's intoxicating laugh turning a silly situation into something hilariously embarassing, making Greg Robleto almost upchuck with our undergarment discussion on the "G-Spot Couch" (so named because Georgie, Genevieve and Greg were perched upon it), watching Jerm and Temma's 48-Hour Film Festival submission called "The Making of Bush: The Musical" (absolutely hilarious), putting a birthday hat on a life-size Boba Fett cardboard cutout, hangin' with Pfefferneuse (my new name for Matt Hearn, which he doesn't know yet), enjoying a glass of Amarulla courtesy of Greg Robleto, watching Jerm's mouth turn blue thanks to Georgie's Ring Pops, everyone licking everyone else's forearms to try that new edible perfume that Georgie was sharing (hubba hubba), and just general witty repartee and dorky geek banter aplenty. If memory serves, the party wound down around 1:30am and everyone got home safely and smiley.
And to answer the question which I know is burning in your mind: Nobody ate the pie. Pfefferneuse was seriously considering it, especially since after careful through-the-plastic inspection it seemed like the pie was merely dry but not moldy at all. We all started to pony up cash (folks were committing to $10 and $20 each), but Jerm didn't really want us to open the sealed tupperware in his house for fear of the lethal gases which might lurk inside... after all, the tupperware hadn't been opened since the day it was sealed back in 2001. Anyway, festivities ensued and eventually we just kinda forgot about the pie-eating. So, I'm thinking maybe when the pie turns four we'll get someone to eat it. (Yes, the pie is back in my fridge, complete with party hat-- see photo below.)
For my pie's 4th birthday, I'm thinking about enrolling it in a head start program, or perhaps a Montessori of some kind. Education is so important!
Knappuccino's was the next night, and it rocked entirely. I was little worried about getting things set up without my usual sets of hands, but a few modifications made everything a snap. I went with the Starbucks coffee instead of messing with the coffee urns and extension cords of death, I bought munchies from Trader Joe's, and we used the light and comfy stacking chairs instead of the heavy wooden things. We had the place set up and torn down in just under the usual amount of time. We were advertised in The Spark's "In the Clubs" section and all of the performers were listed in the Bandfinder as well, so that was very cool. We had a full house, an enthusiastic crowd, great music and the gang even sang me Happy Birthday. (Awww!)
Weird Jill Fact: My mother always tells me that when I was younger I always used to cry when people would sing Happy Birthday to me. We speculated that it was because I had perfect pitch and the bad singing just threw my nerves in a tizzy... but I don't think that's it at all, because my perfect pitch doesn't work that way. Anyhoo, I don't think I've had that song sung to me in a many, many years, but this year when everyone sang I was AMAZINGLY uncomfortable. Holy God! I felt all panicky and weird; a very odd sensation indeed, especially for someone who is 33. I was sitting in the back of the room and to have 40 people staring me down watching for a reaction as they sang the song, all I could do was turn red and alternate between smiling and covering my face. Luckily it only needs to be endured once per year at the most. But I could totally see how it could make me want to cry at that less-than-fully-formed stage of my life. (which isn't to imply that I'm fully formed now... just moreso than when I was, say, 7.)
In other news, The Ninja was in San Diego all last week for a medical boards training class and he got back late last night. He wasn't able to come to the birthday party or to Knappuccino's (stupid flight delay), but he did come to Stanley's with me and Jerm after the coffeehouse-- very cool. This was the first time the two of them really had any genuine hang-out time, and it wasn't long before they figured out that they share a very similar geek-past. I gladly took my seat and watched their antennae twitch as they dorked out talking about their old wacky-hacky days and what computers they had circa 1983. I love when Jerm finds someone he can superdork-out with... I mean, he can dork out with me, but watching him establish that rare neural link with someone who is uber-dorky in the same arena in which he's uber-dorky, well crap, that's a rare treat indeed. They were on FIRE! I mean, my hair was blowing around from the turbulence generated by their propeller hats spinning. As we all drove home in our separate vehicles, Jerm called me to tell me what a great time he had... gee, maybe the two of them should be dating instead, I'm not sure... ;-)
Anyway. Last night I couldn't sleep, so around 5:45am as I lay awake, I called Darryl and left him a message that I wouldn't be attending church this morning-- I just couldn't muster it. I guess I stayed in bed until around 11:00 but even that didn't make a dent in my sleep shortage, so I roused myself and got ready for Little Shop rehearsal at 1.
Rehearsals have been going very well. Today was the first day where I really felt like wow, not only is this show gonna be good, it's gonna be something special. Again, I can't give enough madd proppz to Matt-o-Blatt, who gets this Bluetooth brain-link with me and makes that puppet do exactly what I'm saying.. heck, even thinking... even down to my randomly-interjected giggles and whimpers. It's funny... once or twice when we stopped rehearsal for a moment and I was talking over the mic to Ken or someone, Matt still made the plant talk for me. It's a great time, and I'm very lucky to be working with him, and the rest of this great cast. Tommorow night's rehearsal is the first sing-through with the band, and I'm totally stoked to hear them. Rah!
While we're talking about the show, you might be wondering what you have to do to score some comp tickets. And the answer is: you can't. I only get two, and they're going to my folks, as I'm hoping to swindle them to come down here for Mother's Day. But hey! You can get tickets by calling the box office! All of the information you need is on their website: http://www.city-theater.org.
Oh hey, while I'm thinking of it: Robleto turned me onto this neat service (www.haloscan.com) that lets people comment on your journal entries. The service is free, or you can pay $12 a year for a few more slappy features, which I did for the heck of it. I've only retrofitted my entries in April... dunno if I'm going to go back any earlier. Anyway, feel free to comment by clicking the comment link below (or not). Still trying to figure out what that trackback thing is... don't think I care about it right now. I mean, I like to write in my journal thing here, but I can't imagine it influencing anyone's lives where they'd want to link to it.
OK. I must go throw out my garbage, put some clothes away and get to bed. Yes, it's only 9:30, but I'm just totally beat, yo.
Thanks everyone for a really fantastic birthday!