busy busy bumblebee...

The past week has been a jam-packed swirl of social interaction, apartment preparations, and family obligations. Have yet to get a full, satisfying night of sleep since last Thursday or so, but somehow, I dont really mind.

Last Friday was superb. Went to see The Cassettes at Tiny Planet and had the best, most scenestery time! Dragged sean along with me, since he's usually up for whatever, and we sidled on down the sketchy alley off u st. As soon as we got there, lo and behold, who did I see lounging about on the stairs, beer in hand and sparkle in his eye, but the infamous ginger. I seem to run into that kid every weekend. After some mild winking and half-words, sean and I ventured inside, marveling at the exposed brick and delicious finger foods. Ran into my favorite pint-sized lady, nan, and we giggled and casually swore for a few minutes, dishing about the latest and greatest dc bands. Also saw that lovely keyboardist from cataract camp, zach, and his slick-suited DJ friend, gavin. Giggled with zach and talked electro with gavin.

The Cassettes were astounding. I totally dug the singer and bassist's snazzy striped boatnecks and the moog/accordion chap looked delightfully akin to a street-wise barkeep from the Old West. The theremin guy looked like he could be har mar superstar's dad. After their astoundingly good set, the dj busted out with some fantastic Jackson 5 remixes that got a select few of us dancing like there was no tomorrow. Impressed/embarrassed people with my rendition of the Jackson 5 dance-walk. Engaged in a few gazes from across the room with a certain heavily eye-lidded fellow and then retired to le chat noir for a good ole fashioned woodchuck. Totally felt like cheers when I walked in and saw all my friends including my fun-sized pal with the marked propensity for occasional ass-biting. Someone ruffled my hair and licked my face for a while before disappearing into the shadows of the backstage. More giggles, more lame jokes. It was a lovely evening.

Awesome joke courtesy of Jamie:

Q: How many communists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: None. The lightbulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.

Went on a slightly annoying and moderately tiring excursion out to Ikea to get a bunch of apartment stuff with bek and ian. Walked into the store and was immediately overwhelmed at the prospect of making any decisions; there are just too many choices! Looked at everything, but only ended up making a few small purchases. I think I spent $20 on some kitchen and bathroom accessories including a fabulous teeny teapot and a bright red shower curtain. I feel like the first trip anywhere is kind of a trial run anyway, so the next time I go to Ikea I'll have a better idea of what I need and how to find it. Items on the list: fabulous couch, bigger bed and a rug. I'm not a man, but I've definitely got a plan.

After Ikea, I was starving and craving greasy fast food in a major way. Dave Thomas's extra super special value menu really came in handy.

Woke up bright and/or early on Sunday and felt strangely motivated. Did laundry, washed and put away dishes. Cleaned the pool. Uploaded and organized all the pictures from my camera. Made myself French toast and read the paper while listening to some of my favorite dc tunes. The sun peeked through the curtains in the front window, casting a warm, peachy glow across the table and my breakfast. It was a perfect Sunday morning. After my brief moment of zen, I realized that I stunk so I promptly showered and gathered up my brother so we could go get crackin on painting the apartment. When we got there, bek and ian had already gotten a lot of the prep work done, taping and moving the big, dumb furniture out of the way. We all headed out to the paint store, where I briefly lost my cool and almost opened up a verbal can of whoop-ass on the slightly slow-witted clerk. Thankfully my mood swing fixed itself and the guy gave us an excellent discount on our paint and supplies. Back to the apartment prime, paint, wait, paint, wait, touch-up. Awesome. Ian had some wonderful tunes on his ipod that caused me to excitedly exclaim, "I love this song!" about 50 times too many.

I think I painted wrong.

checklist of post-painting pain:

The fam got back from vegas last night. Ari had a lot of presents, mostly dragon-related. She also got this really tremendous pink flamingo marionette that makes me smile. They went out there to visit my aunt and my cousins, Jamie and Mateo, who have morphed from charming, big-eared, buck-toothed, northeastern boys into slick-suited, vegas businessmen with finely-groomed facial hair and slight gambling problems. Jamie's expecting his first child soon, which leaves me as the only first-born grandchild out of 15 or so that doesnt have any babies. My mom showed them pictures of me and my brother since we havent seen them for a good 5 years and both Jamie and Matt seem to believe that I could have a very lucrative and fulfilling career as a vegas cocktail waitress, replete with feather headdress and sequined hotpants. As tempting as that seems, I think I may just have to pass.

No word from the conversed one and I'm finding myself strangely missing his texts!