i hid the kit in the lang stairwell, ran another load of laundry, went to the co-op and purchased a pound of garlic and a roll of aluminum foil. with a paperclip from alyssa, a knitting needle from laurel, a huge (nearly life-size) wooden cross from mark, and the ball of twine that i had bought at the bookstore the day before for last minute snare repair, i was able to fashion the latter into rebecca's props.

her skit went off better than i'd anticipated, augmented by a purple cloakish thing and great black curly wig that somehow worked perfectly as a kind of beethovenian vampire hunter costume. of course, the crowning touch was the garlic necklace, some of which may or not make it into your co-op dinner tonight. gabe's colorful make-up job (courtesy of joanna) was also excellent. and left quite a mark on her neck (the garlic wasn't a very effective deterrent.)

as for my screw, i'm told it was adorable, but i think it made a lot more sense from her perspective (Hey! look at this!). as i experienced it: i was blindfolded, herded somewhere, hoisted into the air, told to cry for help, and then suddenly i was vertical again and there she was. my hero! congratulations are due to becca for getting it right, the third time around.

not much time to take in the rest of the screwiness; i ran home to tux and laundry, then back up to parrish for the overpriced but suitably substitute-classy tennis team preform. free for me - i was in the band. oh, the joys of unrehearsed realbook-mining background performances. it's been forever since i've had a completely comfortable combo date, musicianship-wise. certainly not since i've been in college. even the tunes that everyone purportedly knew (and it was hard to find those) were a bit tenuous. i don't think i was able to take an unambiguous solo at any point for failings of form and communication. but still it was fun (and not that anyone in attendance had anything but glowing comments afterwards about "good live jazz," which i had no choice but to accept.) bhardwaj joined us on piano most of the time, and lela on a few numbers. the third set (we switched off with the mostly-inaudible oscar and emily) was most fun to play - we kicked out "now's the time" and "blue bossa" without too much trouble, took "st. thomas" way too slow, and went sufficiently far out "chameleon" to satisfy me and stymy(ie?) most of the others.

that accomplished, i went upstairs to rescue my beautiful date from her studying, to go to the actual dance. she made up for it. forcibly, by tipsily fawning friends, but also because this was the worst formal party i've been to at swarthmore, and yet i had a fantastic time. we duly noted the awfulness of the party - dearth of lighting, bizarre pointless projection, typically uninspiring swatparty music (it was actually pleasant, rather than frustrating, when the dj played "work it" for the second time) with exasperation potential compounded by the fact that this was one of those venerated off-campus djs that cost the big bucks (despite these played-out gripes, it should be noted that i do commend my ex-committee-members for the adequate supply of cups and decent junk food) - and then essentially dismissed it and proceeded to enjoy ourselves. i didn't dance with anyone else the whole time, which is certainly a first. (it seemed like a lot of people were sticking in their twosomes - of course, it helped that one could barely see anybody beyond a few feet.) by the end (at least he played "like a prayer"), we were swooping and swirling with pieces of the plastic carpet. in the parlance of ester the cowardly mutant pizza turtle: whoosh!

if it's a dirty shirt you've got to take it off