I'm temporarily over Halloween. I love the scene, I love seeing the costumes of others, but I'm lousy at thinking of my own, much less actually putting them together. And I feel a little silly doing the sexy-whatever thing, unless it has some clever component. So I'm relieved to have a break this year - instead of going out on Thursday, we're going to see Empire of the Sun. I splurged and got us orchestra pit tickets, because the glimpses I caught of them from way in the back of the tent at Bonnaroo this year were just amazing. I want to be up close for the spectacle. There's a chance I'll give in and throw on a tutu, partly to make a C+ effort towards dressing up, but mostly to carve out some extra personal space (trick I learned at EDM festivals; works like a charm). But I'd be perfectly happy just sweating it out in a tank top and jeans. Really, really excited for this show.


After much consideration, I've decided on code name LeBoyf, to designate his significant otherness from here on out. Jesus, Ellie, LeBoyf? Really? Yes, really. Because it is so completely dumb and amuses me greatly, and because it is the perfect OMGironic way to suggest that his Frawnchness is in any way a big deal, which it is not, because in truth the only time we even parlez francais is in crowded elevators, for the lolz (okay maybe a little bit in private too, because come on). It is nevertheless exciting to me to actually have someone special in my life, who is perfectly okay with being written about*, and he deserves a better blog call sign** than just a fake name. And that would be pointless anyway, since we decided fuck it, where being public on social media is concerned.


There's not much that gives me warmer fuzzies than when my friends meet my SO and they hit it off. He's met a handful of my friends over the past few weeks. And oh man, when they make a point to take me aside and tell me how much they like him, specifically because of how they see him treating me, I just feel cellular-level happiness, I swear. It's one thing when I rave about him, but when the people who mean the most to me give him the stamp of approval - that just feels like a giant puzzle piece snapping into place, yanno? And as to how it's been for him - he said it was like meeting my family.



We went to IKEA, aka Where Relationships Go To Die, yesterday (I still limping and on one hour's sleep - and yes, I'd like extra points for both of those). And about the most tense things got was when I lectured him on the evils of overly matching furniture (because I am an expert, doncha know). And it wasn't so much tension, even, as me being indignant and know-it-all and him just sort of cocking his head at me in confusion, the way Chaucer does when I say a word he doesn't understand. What you mean, identical upholstery is tacky? I no understand, human.

Anyway, I'm happy to report that neither our relationship, nor any of the small children I'm convinced were placed in the aisles as spike strips for the injured chick, died.

I found the cheese at the end of the rat maze, and he found the source of the spike strip-kids' fructose-fueled hyperactivity. 

I think I finally figured the Twitter thing out - how to enjoy it, both as a reader and as a writer-of-tweets. Yeah. That shit is pretty fun, after all. After spending a couple months reading some hilarious, absurdist, and seriously clever stuff, I'm trying my hand at joining in the fun. So forgive me if I overdo it. I just get stupidly excited when someone (I deem) cool likes something I write (e.g., a contributing writer for SNL faved a few of my tweets and I immediately texted my BF to brag, because I am a sad, sad human), and thus take it as encouragement for my goofy sense of humor.

UPDATE: Holy crap. @midnight (account for the new Chris Hardwick show) started following me tonight, based on my contribution to their trending hashtag, I guess? BASICALLY I AM NOW WINNING AT LIFE is what I'm saying, so just, you know, remember who you're talking to. #patheticmomentsofsocialmediaglory


Haha, total fail on doing much of anything other than schmooping. I'm sorry. But hey, want some hot music tips? Here's some stuff I've been into latey:

Chad Valley (Shell Suite, Shapeless)
Sarah Jaffe (Clementine, Vulnerable)
Ki Theory (Bat Penatar) (hat tip: LeBoyf)


* I'll never forget his face when he was describing having read one of the first posts (can't remember which/where/what) I'd written about him. He said he had to stop every few lines, because it was so intense to read such complimentary things about himself. He said it was like I'd written the ultimate love letter and then shared it with the world. (!)

I've since enacted a strict-ish no-read-the-blog rule, for various reasons. He knows if there's something I want to share with him, I'll do so, and otherwise trusts me and wants me to feel free to carry on bloglife as usual. Which I am trying.

** Hat tip: Sarah