Last night, No Shame was awesome. Great pieces. Big crowd. Energy. Enthusiasm. I loved it.
Since most people find my webpage through its link on the No Shame website... if you're new here, sign my guestbook (there's a link for it at the bottom of the homepage). Or even if that's not the case, sign my guestbook. It's nice to know who's reading this.
Yesterday, I talked to my dad on the phone. I called him to say thanks because he sent me some money in the mail. It was $20 in an envelope marked - "Paul, Here's Some Beer Money - Love, Dad." My dad is funny. In case you didn't know, I don't drink and stuff and my dad's aware of this. In fact, last winter, he sent me $20 in an envelople marked - "Paul - Here's Some Money to Buy Beer and Drugs With - Love, Dad." My dad - what a goof.
So when I called him on the phone, I found out that there's a good chance that my mom, dad, sister, and niece will be going to San Francisco on Thanksgiving to visit my sister Amy. I, however, will not be going. My dad asked me if I was okay with this.
I honestly have no problem with it. It's just the way it works out. You see, my parents were originally going to go (so it'd be a little getaway for them), but then my sister and her daughter got interested in going (which is understandable since they've never been out there). So if I went along, too, it'd end up being this big trip that was never intended.
I just realized that I'm sounding like a total martyr. You know, like, "No, no, no. You guys go and have your fun. I'll just stay back and bum around, I guess." But that's not the case. I'd be perfectly happy just staying here in Iowa City for a week of vacation - with no school work and just working on the movie. I want that.
Of course, by November, I will obviously haven gotten a girlfriend, right? And at Thanksgiving, I will go home with her. And on the car-ride there, we'll take pictures outside crumby truck stops. And we'll talk about the times our grandparents died. And we'll make out while she drives - even if it is in snowy weather.
And then at dinner, I'll have to fake that I like her mother's mashed potatos more than my own mother's. And I'll bullshit my way through a conversation regarding the Minnesota Vikings with her father. And I'll force myself to grin when her little brother points out my big nose.
And as we head back to Iowa City, I'll realize that... yes, I'm a little closer to falling in love with this girl.
Or... I'll find myself in some zany "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"-like scenario. All the while, I'll be saying, "I want to get home, but this fat guy keeps farting on me!"