On a dark and stormy night, two chicks drove deep into the 'hood. A-Fooze and I had spent the early evening dancing on the roof to salsa music until we could barely walk: we danced to merengue, bomba, guaguanco, bachata, and cumbia... but if you think I know how to actually do all those dances, I must admit I was just kind of moving to the music. We stopped by A-Fooze's place briefly, and when we left it was suddenly storming so we had to run to my car at Our Lady of Perpetual Sobriety, then we drove to a hookah club in the 'hood to meet some of my bandmates. We didn't see any of them, but I did see another friend of mine who told me the belly dancing style was "tribal fusion." The dancer had different props, like a fan, a sword, and flaming things on her fingers that (this was my favorite part of the show) set off the fire alarm. Everyone panicked that the sprinklers would go off, but A-Fooze and I just shrugged since we were already soaked from the storm. When the waitress asked what we thought of the belly dancer, I replied that this was my first time seeing tribal fusion. Later A-Fooze was saying that she loved how I used that phrase like I had any idea what I was talking about, and I said, "Better yet, I didn't even have to give an opinion of the show!"
That was Friday night. Thursday night at Messiah practice I got the best news I'd heard since learning that reggaeton is on the way out: we will be performing with a harpsichord! And NOBODY tunes harpsichords to equal temperament, so it looks like we will be spared that public humiliation at the fronds of my dracaena. Afterwards a bunch of us went to a swanky hotel for drinks, but when I ordered a gin fizz, the waiter said, "They can't make a proper one here. Trust me, I'm from New Orleans!" I believed him, because - other than reggaeton - very little is worse than getting a drink called a "gin fizz" which bears no resemblance to the actual Gin Fizz. However, I had no Plan B so I panicked and ordered a root beer.
Charlie my boy bunny had a fever this weekend, but as he got better, I developed a bad cold. Sunday a bunch of my friends went hiking, but I could barely get out of bed. Yesterday I called in sick to work and sat around having a pity party for myself. Ugh! TWO summer colds in one summer! I tried to get some fresh air on my balcony, but after a few minutes a dozen yellow jackets ascended like tiny helicopters and swarmed around me. One landed right on the top of my head - and stung me!! I ran inside to put some onion on the sting... and the yellow jacket was clinging to my leg! I smacked it and it fell to the floor, stunned. Then I finished it off with my salsa dancing shoe. After that I was a geniune sorehead, on top of being sniffly and sneezy. Fortunately Charlie felt the proper amount of sympathy for me and sat kissing me as I lay on the floor in utter wretched misery. See, this is why I live with rabbits instead of a man.
Famous Hat
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