In the middle of Glennis’ birthday dinner about two months ago, I got a phone call from Brooklyn General Store, a fabric and sewing goods store, because I signed up for a sewing class. Because I’m so polite, I took the call and gave them all my payment information and whatnot right there at dinner. It sounds rude, but here’s what we looked like while eating dinner, so you have to realize that me taking one quick call was hardly the distraction it might normally be.
At that point, Kate asked “Are you—” Wait, hang on. Ahem. At that point, Kate
asked, “Are you ever not taking a class?” And I thought about it and realized, not really. I thirst for the knowles! That’s knowledge. Knowledges? Beyonce Knowlesies. You can’t really abbreviate knowledge in a hip way, by the way. B-T-Dubs.
Prior to taking the sewing class, and I mean like, over the course of my living in New York, I have taken a sketch writing class, a non-fiction writing class, 7 or 8 improv classes, a crochet class, a copywriting class, an illustration class and a true-crime class at NYU’s school of Continuing Ed that was so bad I dropped it after 2 sessions. That class actually was entertaining because of my fellow classmates who sought to continue their ed. Especially the two older Long Island-based ladies who came in matchy-matchy workout suits and commented on everything as if they were the Waldorf and Statler of Ronkonkoma. But even they couldn’t save it for me. Someone light a match because even 5 years later, that class still stinks.
I just took a Photoshop intensive class this weekend and I’ll be taking an Illustrator class in 2 weeks just to continue my tradition of not sitting idly on nights and weekends, but y’all, I am tired. It is kind of necessary though since I’m getting old and have never used those programs. I own a Mac because on top of it being pretty and very white, I told myself I would actually USE the programs it’s compatible with and this weekend was my way of trying to justify that to myself.
So I came home Saturday night after 7 hours of staring at Magic Wands and Rectangular Selection Tools, and At-Home-Movie Companion and I settled into our normal horror movie routine which always makes me happy. He had DVR’d Slither since we have a penchant for the current oh-so popular genre of horroredy. Which is a genre I just made up (Horror-Comedy. I know, it wasn’t very clear.) But you know what I mean…Hostel, Cabin Fever, Wrong Turn…all those movies where good-looking actors who started on the WB network get terrorized by like, viruses and dangerously inbred neighbors and you’re not sure if they’re supposed to be funny but they are.
Slither went above and beyond my expectations and it was gross and scary but also hilarious. Why is it not a cult favorite by now? Its castmembers include actors from Gilmore Girls (Mitchum Huntzberger!), The Office (Pam Beasley!), Battlestar Galactica (some other dude!), and Firefly (the main dude!). Clearly, this film should have “cult favorite” written all over it with a culty cast like that, some of whom I don’t actually know about except when At-Home-Movie Companion mentions them because he watches Battlestar and Firefly and I stand by ridiculing him for his nerdery while watching quality shows like E!’s 20 Greatest Hollywood Slim-Down Stories. IN CLOSING, You should watch Slither and I’ll let you know how my Illustrator class goes. Because no, Kate,
I’m never not taking a class.