Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner [aka, No One Shushes Carrie]!

I have had two things stuck in my brain today:

--schadenfreude
--nerve gas

The first comes from Becca giving me tickets to go see Avenue Q on Broadway last night. Lovely. Normally, I'm freaked out by puppets, but I have to appreciate puppets singing about schadenfreude. And how the internet is only for porn. It was funny, well-written, well-performed, and just all around fabulous. I often forget how much I love seeing live theatre until I see it again. And that wins DUH statement of the day.

The second, of course, comes from 24. It's gotten worse since Spencer has shown me how to download the show right onto my computer. Very unhealthy. I find myself imagining Jack Bauer swooping in and fixing all my problems. And killing several people along the way. This website is hilarious. Jack Bauer killed 44 people in Season 4. That's 44 people IN ONE DAY. Man, imagine what damage he could do at the DMV.

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Spring's bachelorette party went fabulously, minus a little shushing incident you can read about in the comments of Chris' blog. Seriously, who shushes ANYONE in New York?! It's not only the city that never sleeps, it's the city that never shuts up.

After the shushing incident, we headed off to karaoke. Let me tell you, a private karaoke room is the way to go. It's harder to avoid scorn if you're going to be shitty about "Oh, I don't sing." Oh yeah? Well, you're still shelling out for a private room so you might as well become one with the "Baby Got Back" or something. Spring sang "Me and Bobby McGee." Twice. Far be it for me to knock someone once they've got their theme song. Sharon of course rocked "Sweet Child O'Mine" (her standard karaoke song). I was saddened that my standard was not on the list, so I sang "Big Spender" and yup, my favorite choice of the night, ADIDAS. Nothing says I'll-Love-You-Forever quite like Korn. We were all sort of in love with the fact that in the private room, there was a phone. You picked up the phone, said "I need [booze]" and then? THEY'D BRING IT RIGHT TO YOU. Amazing. Life should always be that easy.

When we dropped Spring off at her place at the end of it all, she was drunk and had a grin plastered across her face.

"I'm the most popular girl IN THE WORLD!"

Good. Mission accomplished. Sharon and I bought Spring a massage for the next day, and consciously lied to her about the time, telling her 15 minutes earlier, taking into account her propensity for tardiness.

She called to thank us when she got home from it. She sounded relaxed and happy. Double mission-accomplished. We rule. Now I just have to get my hair done, and we're all-systems-go for a lovely wedding. I have a very dashing date (Conor) and a very pretty dress (thanks, eBay) and a boy-toy to come home to at the end of it all.

Speaking of which, Swetus (as I have now dubbed him, for "Swedish Fetus") brought up "The Talk" on Friday night, when we were clearly in no condition to do so. But considering the last time I had "The Talk" with any boy, I was blacked out drunk and didn't remember, at least this one was at least a step up from that.

"So, are we, like, a couple?"

Eesh. That word frightens me. Must be diplomatic.

"Well, if someone were to ask me, who is this [Swetus] person, I would say, 'he is the boy I'm seeing.' Is that okay with you?"

"OK"

"OK"

Done. And done. I'm seeing a boy. We have an official date tomorrow, getting Mexican food. I am concerned about what any Swedish person's take on what good Mexican food entails, but I'm willing to give it a shot. And then fully prepared to bitch about it. Why? Because I'm a snobby Texan and I'm very particular about my salsa. And based on what I've researched, I'm not sure a Swedish palate can distinguish good Mexican food. But hey, he wants to pay, so I guess it's no sweat off my back.

I had a dream last night where I was changing the diaper on a puppy. I'm not sure if this is implying Swetus is like a newborn, or if I'm afraid of being pregnant. Probably both. And probably I should be careful what I consume right before bed, as well.

And that's about all the news that's fit to print. Hold hands when crossing the streets, kids.