the wedding present

Sneaky. I do all of my Diary stuff way way past curfew now, when the lights go down in the city, tho I have no roommate peeping or anything. Makes me feel like I'm a scientist in my dark and dank secret laboratory of science and glass tubing, except with little vials of letters that are formulated to make strong chemical smells and a hazy blue glow. Sometimes a little limber cyborg of words crawls out of the mixing beaker and it's got a fine face, and sometimes a club-footed cyclops baby does with ragged green teeth and some nuclear slime and he needs to be trapped in a jar to pickle and then be sold to the carnies. I miss Fangoria.

It would be very easy to write a mess about the wedding reception (no, the engagement party reception? or just engagement party, but I think the word reception was in there somewhere. it was a long party-title, not counting its honorary degrees) and the people that swanned at it (and I ate a puff pastry swan aswim in chocolate seas. rich people collect swans...ice swans near the punchbowl as big as a fort; those swans as cake-toppers that face each other and their perfect slopey necks meet to make a heart as they kiss. because swans are in true love forever), but I am tired and it's daylight savings so I'm extra tired in my musculature from springing forward.

And Happy Daylight Savings and Happy April Fool's...oh no, now I need to have an elaborate hoax! I didn't plan this out very well. The biggest, real hoax ever pulled by someone I know? My friend, a Tool minion, told the factions that the band had died in a bus accident. Since he'd be considered the person who would for-reals know first about these things, shocked mourning commenced. Press people believed.

No, this all works in a holiday-themed way I think, because this entry is a sorry joke. April Fool's. I need to go find some comforting Yahoo! e-cards to send to my best Fool pals now.

But a few wedding things. The husband-to-be's mom (I should say Mother, or even maman or something more refined because she's part of this wacky scion family, and she looked like one giant lustrous pearl with blush) was telling me how she and her husband did a skit from Kramer vs. Kramer years ago. That was only my first favorite movie ever. Oh, what a sketch could beget...a whole musical revue at the vaudeville penny theater. We talked about how it's probably an inappropriate movie choice for a 6-year-old (had NO divorce issues, my parents weren't yellers either. I just liked it and sneaked out of bed to watch it when it was on t.v.; I hid behind the green ottoman) and I think a word she used to describe this here youthful fan was "dire." I loved her for doing a Kramer vs. Kramer skit, and I loved her doubly for calling me dire, the big pearl.

And there was a couple by the name(s) of Chaz (Charlie McChuck. Chazzzzzz. Jazzy Chaz. He was quiet but said one thing about outlaw French chefs in pre-Revolutionary times who lived underground. That's a good one-thing to say.) and Celeste. Chaz n' Celeste Chaz and Celeste Charles and Celestine. They were short.

fell on 2001-04-1 at 3:05 a.m.

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