From time to time on this blog I like to post old email and text conversations between my friend M and I because, frankly, we’re the funniest people we know. Here’s a gem from November 1, 2010.
A few days earlier, M hosted her annual Halloween party so we were just happy to be not dead from alcohol poisoning or a freak accident involving a wig and an acquaintance we’ll call ‘X’ who we’re never entirely sure isn’t a serial killer. We had dressed up as characters from the movie St. Elmo’s Fire. M was Demi Moore’s character, R was Ally Sheedy, and I was the ugly one. I even carried around a tape recorder that played the movie’s theme song: St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion). Yeah, I’m totally method about Halloween. I met a cute boy on the street who was either dressed up as a construction worker or was actually a construction worker who was heading out straight from work. It was unclear, despite my drunken and persistent line of questioning (translation: every 3 minutes I just shouted “So are you, like, actually a construction worker or is this your costume?” into his face). He was asking for directions to another party and it took me roughly 38 minutes to explain that he was meant to be directly across the street. While touching his arm. Good times.
Here’s the email.
J: Happy November 1! My how time flies. Seems like just yesterday I was busting out my leather for Spring. It snowed. SNOWED. How was the rest of your Sunday?
M: I sure am glad that I stayed in my bed until FOUR PM. Jesus Christ in the garden was yesterday a tough one. My butt is killing me (haha, not that) from dancing and my neck is stiff from constantly looking over my shoulder to see if X was behind me getting ready to choke me.
J: I also pulled a butt muscle. Mostly from laughing every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. And from watching X try and measure your wig to see if he could choke you with it (he can). So fun. SO FUN! I wish I had felt a bit better. But I still drank all my beers like a good girl. I wonder if my construction worker ever found the building across the street. Probably not. I spent actual Halloween in the suburbs. Was sent home with butter chicken, beef curry, rice, two kinds of roti (2!), cake, candy, and a cholesterol problem. Handed out candy with R and totally took credit for the scary decorations and sound system we had set up outside that made 12 year olds pee themselves a little. In actuality, R’s dad set everything up but the one who hands out the candy gets the glory, as they say. They say that, right? I’m drinking Buckley’s like it’s made of frosting rather than ass.
M: There are two kinds of roti? I never dared to dream so much. And you do deserve the credit for making those 12 year olds pee; if they really wanted to be scared I could have texted you a picture of my wig collection. Yes, I now have a collection. Judging from the clothes I collected from around my apartment no one went home wearing anything. We also found a note reminding my roommate that her camera was in the freezer. I watched a friend make out with someone for a long time and I was like “she looks really good at that.” I doubt your construction worker ever found the building across the street but let’s face it, the purpose of his head is NOT for holding brains. I’m drinking so much coffee that I can almost trick myself into thinking that I’m shaking from the caffeine.
J: Regular and potato roti. Boom. You also sort of have a collection of costumes. I know, because I changed 3 times on Saturday, The great wig exchange of 2010 was a particular crowd pleaser. I went home completely naked. Just kidding. But everyone thought my costume was ‘Mormon’ after I took the sweater off. Totally looked Mormon. Ended up walking for an hour in a futile attempt to get a cab. Only got one at the Lakeview because someone got out of one and R physically threw me into it. X disappeared. Off to murder people at another party I suppose. We really don’t know the words to St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion). We really do not.
M: It was nice of X to murder other people’s friends. That could have been awkward. “Oh, uhhhhh, who should you murder?” “I uhhhhhh, well I uhhhh never really thought about that….” Awkward. Obviously it’s going to be me now. How do we not know any of the words!?? I listen to that song so much! Other songs I don’t actually know the words to: Islands in the Stream.
J: Your Islands in the Stream is my Volcano Girls.
M: Gawd I feel wretched. It’s like I didn’t even accidentally ingest Spic&Span. And I have a terrible case of dance buttitis; but I find comfort in the knowledge that it is not from flinging myself down a set of stairs. I need to magic eraser my brain.