Partying crazy

Starting from 5th grade until graduation, Saturdays meant rehearsals from 1-4. It was really relaxed and fun; we would dance very hard of course, but we also joked and kind of clowned around when we were offstage. In the summer we would creep on the brides getting married at the church across the street and critique all the dresses. A couple times every year, we would have to cancel for one reason or another, and I would be at a loose end all day long. After reading The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright, I had gathered that Saturdays were supposed to be wild times for frolic, but usually it was more fun to be in rehearsal than driving around running errands. 

I still hold Saturdays to a sort of high standard. Maybe I secretly think Saturday night should be a time for crazy partying or something, because I get really excited when thinking about it, but then I don't do anything special. Friday nights are the real occasion for me and my friends. We watch movies and chill out and come down from the week, and it's really nice. Last night we watched Pitch Perfect and Anastasia, which (as usual) gave me a lot of former-Marxist feels that I was commanded to keep to myself. But seriously, in that opening sequence, when the grandmother is going on and on about Imperial Russia's majesty and beauty, who can resist thinking, "while the poor were dying in the streets"? Comedy gold, people. 

Tomorrow, I'm going to see Alison Bechdel and Gloria Steinem speak as part of an archives event about activism. Very exciting stuff. I'm doing all my homework today to free up Sunday for religious services and fangirling.