Nyotaimori

see the station agent. the station agent is good. gooooood.

kris, i took pictures of ellie’s stomach for you. at one point during the movie she grabbed my hand and put it on her belly and i freaked out. lucky for me the baby didn’t kick at that point because s/he had already stopped. freaky little parasite zygotes.

first night at the circus? fun. lots of standing up, standing around, standing standing, smiling, standing, being asked the prices of things that i sure as hell don’t know the prices of, having to ask nathan to scan things for me to learn the prices, getting shot at with rubberbands by nathan, talking to erin, standing, laughing at dante, standing, 30 minute break!, standing. you get the picture. i worked from 12:30pm to 10:30pm. and except for that half hour break, i stood the whole time. i can tell you right now that all i want to do is work the VIP tent which is heated and has tasty food and rich clientele. i can also tell you that at some point there’s an employee discount day and everything is 40% off. so if you want any hella expensive circus gear, lemme know. also if you get a chance and have money to burn you should def go see the show. and if you come, maybe you will see me standing there!

i’ve kind of missed the boat on getting my act together to see the premiere of matrix revolutions. this makes me sad. i was so excited last time. there was themed underwear and friends to wait in line with. what happened this time around?

recently i re-watched the princess bride. that movie makes me so happy. but at the same time it also brings up a lot of childhood good and bad memories. shona, robi, neela, and i used to pretend to be wesley and buttercup and roll down the hill in front of their house over and and over again. say i was wesley and shona was buttercup. she would push me down the hill and i would scream, “as you wish!” and then she would roll after me. once we both reached the bottom there would be the crawling over and making out section of the event. we did the whole thing where you put the back of your hand against your mouth and then fake kiss with your palms. that shit was hot.

the bad memory i have associated with this movie comes about in relation to the sand traps in the forest. i had this dream after an early watching of the film wherein i was buttercup and i fell thru the sand. the thing was that it took a while for wesley to reach me and in the meantime there were a lot of skulls and bones and really disgusting sand fish in there. every time i go a while between watching this movie i’ll become convinced again that they show buttercup in the sand pit and you see the bones. but then, that never really happens. i still find it really traumatic though and hate to be reminded of it. ugh.

knowing as i do that you have all been terribly nervous and terribly irritated by my lack of job, i wanted to let everyone know that no longer must you curse my name every morning when you get up and work for 8 hours a day! because i got a job!

yes, it is true and i start on wednesday. and i will be working for the circus! circus people!

before you begin calling me a carnie, i would like to clarify that i am not working for just any circus, oh no, but the top tier french canadian cirque du soleil circus. so you should make sure to throw in some aboots when you pronounce “car-nay”.

this is admittedly a job which will only last me thru dec 22. but at this point i don’t care. money money money. circus circus circus.

the show i am working on is alegria. you can read more about the little circus kids going to school in trailers here. ahhhhh! it’s no zumanity, but that’s ok. (why did we never go to that? let’s go!)

lately, my home life seems to revolve around puke. i realize that this is an entirely unsavory subject, but i feel the need to vent about it a little and then move on.

you’d think that while snug in your bed you’re safe from such things as wild parties happening across the hall and waking up to the sounds of retching from the bathroom next door. or at least, you could imagine this would not be the case outside of a college dorm room or frat house. such is not the case in my household though. we could be a frat house for all we don’t really resemble ones’ members. however, this weekend has really taken the cake.

on saturday, much to my startled surprise an incredibly attractive biker showed up at my front door. i was alone in the house at the time, though if i had been on the phone with gene i’m sure he would have been yelling in my ear about the scary factor of door-to-door salesmen, UPS men, and girl scouts as he did early in the week when a man selling fish and meat came along looking to huff and puff and blow my house down. this curvaceous and stoic biker though was looking for my brother so they could commence the milk drinking contest. for those unaware what this constitutes, let me explain to your eternal dismay. everyone gets a gallon of milk. you drink your gallon. first person to puke loses. last person to puke wins. this is, i must say, a beautiful example of the genius of rebellious youth in action.

luckily for our pseudo-frat house they went to a public park to undertake this immensely juvenile pursuit.

last night, i returned from the copious belly-filling of the cheesecake factory to be surprised by a friend of my brother’s dragging me out of the computer chair and into the bathroom to look at his vomit. he was both drunk and high and after convincing him that in fact he was not vomiting up blood and to the contrary it was merely chunks of tomatoes and red peppers (i don’t even want to know what he was eating) i escaped to my room and refused to leave it again that night.

now sure, my house isn’t burning down so i have little in truth to complain about, but i’m thinking maybe we should move some of these milk drinking contests closer to the fire and test their extinguishing capabilities.

24 is not my favorite number, but 17 is. and since you’ll only be 24 for a year but your birthday will be on the 17th forever, i feel that is ok.

piggy, it’s been a long hard road to this day. there were molls, sidekicks, tupperware, spun sugar, and slop, but in the end you’ve made it to this ripe old age of sort of an inbetween indiscriminate number and nature. so good on you. liven up this birthday year and never forget your ignominious pig-sake roots.

love,

muppet