Mikey and I went to Whisper in the middle of the night, checking out a party Hamid promised would be "off the hook" or similar. I don't know that I've ever seen so much lipgloss and eyeliner, sweaty tube tops and pole dancers, and guys all wearing the requisite untucked striped dress shirt and sassy denim sipping $8 Jack and Cokes in my life. It really was quite something to behold, particularly when a trio of high school drop outs decided to dry hump the ATM machine. We came home in the wee hours of the morning as I marveled that after the glorious events of Thursday night, no evening will ever compare.
Today was spent doing what we usually do on a gorgeous weekend day: watching Sister Act on basic cable. God, that's an incredible film. Curled up in our jammies on our respective couches, we howled at the antics of Sister Mary Clarence and her brood of quirky no-nonsense nuns.
"God this is a spectacular movie."
"I know. It's fucking hilarious."
"You know what else I like? Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit."
"Oh yeah. With Lauren Hill."
"Yeah! In fact, I'm going to nominate that as an entry in our never-ending question."
"What's the best sequel of all time?"
"Indeed. Sister Act 2."
It's really been quite a 48 hours. I've gone from the pinnacle of my life, hobnobbing with A-listers and the love of my life right back down to where I'm doomed to spend the rest of my days: looking uncomfortable in shitty, sweaty dance clubs and delighting in religious based family films from the early 90's. I mean, I'm pretty sure Gavin didn't spend today singing along to the Sister Act Soundtrack.
Because if he did, we'd be married by now...