My Hands Smell Great
Now Playing: Sleater-Kinney--"Dance Party '97"
It might be an effect of encroaching age, but every morning after I go out dancing I wonder just a little how I ever survived the night.

This weekend's been a combination of the weird and the ecstatic, which is actually a pretty good mix, now that I think about it. Friday and Saturday, I popped into work on a request from my boss to catch up on some of the baking we needed to do for the next week, mainly cookies. We were out of one or another vital ingredient each time, so I got nowhere near as much work done as I wanted. Working alone is a blast, especially if I've got my CDs on the stereo and am able to jack up the fucker without any hassle. I got through two Saturday Looks Good To Me albums before I realized that we had no eggs. The next day, I got through one by the Super Furry Animals before I realized I (a) hadn't got enough eggs to finish all the doughs, and (b) didn't have the feta cheese for the quiche florentine. It was still fun, and I hope I get further opportunities to bake alone.

I finally saw The Bride of Frankenstein (1935) yesterday evening while resting up. I've decided to stop going into WRAP on Saturday afternoons, as I want my weekends back. I've become convinced that my occasional surliness at work might be due to not having a couple of days completely free. I'll start going in on Monday and Tuesday evenings to maintain the library. Of course, the first weekend this happens, I would end up going into work, but I could use the money, and it was fun. Bride was fantastic. I love Halloween, but I never seem to have much time or energy for dressing up, and I rented Bride and Frankenstein Created Woman (1967) without much awareness of their being "theme" rentals. Bride? First-class, top-drawer all the way. Above all else, the movie highlights Elsa Lanchester's unconventional beauty, both as Mary Shelley and the title character, and offers a glorious performance by that squint in human form, Ernest Thesiger as the corrupt and prune-like Dr. Pretorius. "Oh, he's harmless... until crossed!!!"

Saturday night, I decided at long last to visit The Bang!, the dance party that hits the Blind Pig on a semi-monthly basis, mostly 60s-80s stuff with a heavy emphasis on garage and hard rock. I hadn't known anyone who went regularly before, and it's one thing to go check out a band on one's own, but a dance party? That's another matter. As it turned out, I don't think I should have worried, but a lesson learned late is better than a lesson unlearned until a later... yeah. I had planned on dressing up as Charles Nelson Reilly, but then decided maybe George Bernard Shaw, as all I would need for that would be a cap, a false beard, and a pair of glasses I could probably grab from Kiwanis. Upon finding nothing at Kiwanis that morning (I probably wasn't looking very hard), I just decided to dress in my general early-20th-century finery, jacket, tie, and slacks.

All of the last mentioned items had either come off or were largely drenched in sweat by the evening's end. I think I broke my ass twice, but it was worth it. There were some great costumes--A gaggle of Jesuses and or Apostles, corpses, devils, cats, the Lego guy, Fred "Sonic" Smith of the MC5 (inevitable, I suppose, at the Blind Pig), all manner of critters packed the joint. I'm proud to say that some of my people had some of the most creative costumes--Dustin came as "the ghost of grunge," Brandon came as a member of Johnny Headband, and Chuck finally put me at enough ease to remark on his unavoidable resemblance to Billy Joe Anderson of Green Day. I think Katie and Aaron were a cat and a ninja, respectively. I re-met Becca (something to do with a zebra-patterned cowboy hat), of a couple of previous Madison shows, Alex (Travolta in Saturday Night Fever), likewise, and Sarah Gardiner (a "space explorer"--you could tell because she wore a silvery hat that said "Space Explorer"), who had hosted, with her sister Mary (who knew Jessica from Planned Parenthood, which is how I found out about it, etc.), the last New Year's Eve party to which I'd gone. And then there was Betsy from Black Elk, who I'd met but then whose name I'd forgotten, despite seeing her several other places, and her friend Daliah. The music was surprisingly varied--among the usual dance party suspects we also had stuff from the Jam and Le Tigre (the last was an almost total shock). We all migrated between the Blind Pig and the Eight-Ball several times over the course of the evening, which lasted an hour longer than most because of the Daylight Savings switchover, which I commemorated by prissily moaning, "oh man, another hour???". I felt a little awkward dancing by myself at first (Billy Idol said it was okay, so that really ought to be good enough for me), and then realized I didn't care all that much, ending up on the fucking stage by the end of the evening. This dancing malady is one of those oft-dormant things that I've got inside, something I think has to be fed every now and again to prevent my degeneration into lunacy. So that worked out. In the process, I cut my hand on a broken glass while indulging in one of those weak, feckless philanthropic urges of mine by bussing a few bottles (you've gotta feel bad for the staff at that place after a night like that), drank, chatted with an archbishop about Russian musical nymphets TaTu, and generally dove into debauchery (I wish there'd been more, but I think that's always the case). We all congregated outside after the end, running into Chris Bathgate and fellow Descent of the Holy Ghost Church member Jansen, from the last Arbourvitae show, and I ended up walking Becca home on my way to a well-deserved rest (which didn't last too long, as per usual). Before I left, I realized that one of the photographers (I think) was dressed as Number Two from "The Prisoner." I showered some rather embarrassing compliments on his costume and he gave me a spare Number Two pin he inexplicably had (perhaps he already anticipated being outwitted by Number Six that evening and had resigned himself to being "replaced"--"that wasn't the reason I resigned"). I'm probably going to start wearing it around, because I love it so much.

"By hook or by crook, we will!!"

Hey, I think this is the first time ever that what I've "had playing" has any actual relevance to my post topic. I feel a new man, by Heaven!