On a ship of noise
Hory Cow... this weekend's been a turd!
Everyone already knows what transpired on Friday, both the suckiness and the following sorrow-drowning.
Saturday was comparably better. I had Devon drop me off at my house so I could get together and have lunch with my mom and my brother. It had been decided that we were to go to Sushi Garden. After having dined there just that past Thursday, I must say that I wasn't too thrilled to be there again. Nevertheless, I couldn't disappoint my familiars, so I dutifully joined in the rice and fish revelry.
After lunch, we went to check out my brother's new digs. He moved out of the really nice 4-bedroom house he shared with some frat bros and moved into a 2 bedroom apartment off of 29th St. Suffice it to say, it seems like a bit of a step down from where he previously was. Still though, his rent is only about $300 plus the cost of electricity. Not too shabby... plus they live alone on the third floor.
Later on after we finished, I came back to Dev and Chris' place only to be whisked away to Cheyenne's so we can get ready to go to the Miss Gay Arizona America Pageant. After we arrived at Chey's, we took a quick trip to Park Place to get her some pants. Back her place, we waited for her to get ready and then soon we were off to the Leo Rich Theatre at the Tucson Convention Center for the show.
It was almost 6:00PM when we got there. I had never been to an official pageant before, so I wasn't entirely sure how much an investment of my time it would be. I figured it wouldn't need to be any later than 10:00. I would only later realize just how wrong my presumptions would be.
After the boring prelims, the show officially got started with a lively set of numbers from Hairspray. It was going at a pretty good pace, albeit all the sound and lighting difficulties.
The contestants did some numbers, so did some non-participating queens. The actual competition portion seemed to be going at a snail's pace while more numbers for entertainment value were done.
It dragged on (no pun intended) well past 10:00 and wasn't slated to end until midnight. By that time, I had become aware of my tailbone like never before. But throughout the lengthy and labored evening, I made several observations. I saw some great performances, mind you, but I have been to enough drag shows to know that Chicago is overdone. I don't care how limber or fancy your moves are or how much like Velma Kelly you can look, it's just been performed to within an inch of its life. Another thing, long faded-glory diva numbers where the queen just sits on a stool and lip syncs a Liza or some other such number are more yawn-worthy than crown-worthy. Lastly, rolling around on the ground is not conducive to one's costume or dignity, but apparently does please a crowd so. And, like Cheyanne likes point out - the on-stage question portion is really where it all hangs. She had made her decision for the winner right then and there.
The pageant labored on so slowly that a lot of people didn't even stay when they finally decided to crown the winner. I for one, had my fill of drag and never want to sit through another show like that again. It had its good points, I'll grant you, but the six-hour chunk it took from my life is too much! I had almost forgotten what a real woman looks like! Half-way through the ordeal, a wave of nausea had washed over me; my stomach ached and I had the constant urge to want to go to the bathroom. I'm convinced that it was either food poisoning from the sushi (I hadn't had anything else to eat that day) or the negative energy inside the theatre (Leo Rich is the most haunted place in the whole of the also very haunted TCC). This probably had a lot to do with dampering the mood of the evening.
That and, I kept worrying that I would run into that fuckwad of an ex. Seeing as how all of my travels that day took me to his haunts; I couldn't help but worrying that I'd run into him and that I would have to resist the urge to tackle him and pummel his face in. Luckily so (for the both of us), that wasn't the case.
Sundays as a rule tend to suck. But given the less-than-stellar events of the weekend, I'm actually looking forward to returning to work tomorrow.
Everyone already knows what transpired on Friday, both the suckiness and the following sorrow-drowning.
Saturday was comparably better. I had Devon drop me off at my house so I could get together and have lunch with my mom and my brother. It had been decided that we were to go to Sushi Garden. After having dined there just that past Thursday, I must say that I wasn't too thrilled to be there again. Nevertheless, I couldn't disappoint my familiars, so I dutifully joined in the rice and fish revelry.
After lunch, we went to check out my brother's new digs. He moved out of the really nice 4-bedroom house he shared with some frat bros and moved into a 2 bedroom apartment off of 29th St. Suffice it to say, it seems like a bit of a step down from where he previously was. Still though, his rent is only about $300 plus the cost of electricity. Not too shabby... plus they live alone on the third floor.
Later on after we finished, I came back to Dev and Chris' place only to be whisked away to Cheyenne's so we can get ready to go to the Miss Gay Arizona America Pageant. After we arrived at Chey's, we took a quick trip to Park Place to get her some pants. Back her place, we waited for her to get ready and then soon we were off to the Leo Rich Theatre at the Tucson Convention Center for the show.
It was almost 6:00PM when we got there. I had never been to an official pageant before, so I wasn't entirely sure how much an investment of my time it would be. I figured it wouldn't need to be any later than 10:00. I would only later realize just how wrong my presumptions would be.
After the boring prelims, the show officially got started with a lively set of numbers from Hairspray. It was going at a pretty good pace, albeit all the sound and lighting difficulties.
The contestants did some numbers, so did some non-participating queens. The actual competition portion seemed to be going at a snail's pace while more numbers for entertainment value were done.
It dragged on (no pun intended) well past 10:00 and wasn't slated to end until midnight. By that time, I had become aware of my tailbone like never before. But throughout the lengthy and labored evening, I made several observations. I saw some great performances, mind you, but I have been to enough drag shows to know that Chicago is overdone. I don't care how limber or fancy your moves are or how much like Velma Kelly you can look, it's just been performed to within an inch of its life. Another thing, long faded-glory diva numbers where the queen just sits on a stool and lip syncs a Liza or some other such number are more yawn-worthy than crown-worthy. Lastly, rolling around on the ground is not conducive to one's costume or dignity, but apparently does please a crowd so. And, like Cheyanne likes point out - the on-stage question portion is really where it all hangs. She had made her decision for the winner right then and there.
The pageant labored on so slowly that a lot of people didn't even stay when they finally decided to crown the winner. I for one, had my fill of drag and never want to sit through another show like that again. It had its good points, I'll grant you, but the six-hour chunk it took from my life is too much! I had almost forgotten what a real woman looks like! Half-way through the ordeal, a wave of nausea had washed over me; my stomach ached and I had the constant urge to want to go to the bathroom. I'm convinced that it was either food poisoning from the sushi (I hadn't had anything else to eat that day) or the negative energy inside the theatre (Leo Rich is the most haunted place in the whole of the also very haunted TCC). This probably had a lot to do with dampering the mood of the evening.
That and, I kept worrying that I would run into that fuckwad of an ex. Seeing as how all of my travels that day took me to his haunts; I couldn't help but worrying that I'd run into him and that I would have to resist the urge to tackle him and pummel his face in. Luckily so (for the both of us), that wasn't the case.
Sundays as a rule tend to suck. But given the less-than-stellar events of the weekend, I'm actually looking forward to returning to work tomorrow.