3 posts tagged “k-jo”
Homeworking (and watching Gilmore Girls) with K-Jo:
K-Jo: This show always makes me want to dress better and eat dessert. We should get cake.
Both: *laughter*
*pause*
Tigi: I'm not saying no.
A few weeks ago, K-Jo and I were sitting with our laptops and talking. She'd started a McSweeney's style list titled "Lesser-Known Slogans of Political moderates" and had thought of two or three, but she was stuck on more and asked me if I had any ideas. We tossed ideas back and forth and had fun coming up with a few, but after she left I sort of forgot about it. Thing is, that's what my friends and I do all the time, make crap up and occasionally write it down to laugh over it later. So, it slipped from my mind.
That is, until K-Jo submitted it to McSweeney's with our names on it, and liked it so much that they published it.
How cool is that? And it's rather sophisticated of me. My humor runs normally along baser lines. For example, a little while ago Pineapple was talking about how a guy she was dating had to express every single emotion he had, and I said, "Like, 'Hungry. Angry. BO-NER!"
Friday night, sitting around with my guests B and the Dwarf Star's girlfriend, I started talking about how I could probably never regard the Dwarf Star as a guest in any house I live in from here on out because once you live with someone, the mystique is gone.
"I mean, seriously. I've seen him walking around, shirtless, scratching his balls."
B. was scandalized that I said that in front of his girlfriend, but I added, "Oh, it's no big deal. She was there."
The Dwarf Star paid me back for that one the next day at the wedding reception by remarking, "How did your chest get so tan?"
"How is it you notice the tan on my chest?"
"Because I'm checking out your rack, duh."
Well, like anyone could very well help THAT.
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K-Jo came with me, and was the social butterfly that I know and love. For example, she made B. her life-coach and became instant best-friends with the Dwarf Star's girlfriend. She also claimed that she never gets drunk and that she was the drunkest she'd ever been that night. Hmm. We'll see about that, K-Jo. Two words: Gin Ocean.
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I participated in the dollar dance. When my turn came up, I hugged the groom and told him that we were going to do the robot. He happily obliged, and we chatted as we awkwardly lurched along. The flower girl went after me, and I heard the best man say to the groom, "She wants to dance with you, but she doesn't want to hold your hand." I wanted to tell the girl to also do the robot, but she looked scared of me. Probably she was just jealous of my sweet moves.
And speaking of dancing, Bubbles and were I dancing circles around other wedding guests. We cut all kinds of rugs. Fast dances, slow dances, and the thing is I wasn't at all drunk. I got adrenaline-high from dancing for nearly three hours straight, thanks to months of practice with the Starlet. Bubbles? He was a little drunk, yes, thus explaining his tantrum when he found out the DJs didn't have any Journey on hand. Also explaining the fact that he spent twenty minutes trying to get K-Jo to tell him when it would be legally ok to threaten to kill me. We became experts of the slow-dance spin-and-catch but never quite the bread-in-a-basket. That's the one where the guy holds the girl -- but get this: the girls arms need to be crossed and down by the guy's hips. This wasn't easy for me:
"I'm the basket, you're the bread."
"My arms are too short!"
"No they're not!"
"My boobs are too big!"
"Try harder!"
"That's it, I'm taking up yoga."
"I will not accept your self-defeating prophecies! We're gonna make this work!"
It was awkward.
Actually, it was fun. I miss Bubbles the most out of all of my friends from that area, and I can't lie and say that I didn't enjoy dancing with him. We sang along with songs, we attempted various dips and spins, and we made each other laugh. It was like old times, even including the Elvis song we danced to that we didn't goof off during (according to Bubbles, it's blasphemous to goof off to Elvis, so we just danced normally, comfortably, quietly).
I mean, it's not all goofieness with Bubbles, though I talk mostly about the weird shit he says and does. And while Saturday night was rife with silliness, Sunday afternoon we were a bit more serious. B. needed to go study for her exam and Bubbles and I spent the afternoon together. We walked to the Capitol building (about two miles from my house) and back, debating politics the whole way, even so far as having a heated argument under the rotunda. Because we argue -- boy do we argue. And it's not that we don't agree on things, it's just Bubbles loves to play Devil's advocate, and he's brilliantly convincing at it. He challanges consistancy in my views and I never come out of an argument with him without either reevaluating something I previously thought or arguing my position so valiantly and passionately that he relents before I become actually angry (which... happens, but only for short durations).
So it's hard to pick which aspect of our friendship I like the most -- the goofy part, or the part that challanges me as a person. But I think any good friendship I've had has both aspects -- all of my closest friends are people who can tolerate my unserious moods but who know that I do truly take things seriously and to heart (see also: Pineapple). And while Bubbles will rattle my cage from time to time for fun (because, as he says, I take things so seriously), I know he really looks out for me, and he's proved this. I hope we're friends for a long time. I can't imagine a Bubbles-free life.
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I have other things to say about life in general, but the hour looms late and I have to be up by quarter-to-six. Argh.
