we'll be the worst of best friends

What a crazy weekend! Friday night, I succumbed to my desires and bought a new car - a Toyota RAV4, to be exact, with all the trimmings. It's a 6-cyl 4wd with a sunroof, 6-cd changer, heated leather seats, bluetooth for my cellphone, the ability to plug in my ipod, tons of cargo space, etc. I'm in love! I loved driving my other car, but the time had come to upgrade, and this RAV4 is leagues beyond my Pontiac in terms of handling and smoothness.

So Saturday, I took my lovely new car up to the city and had a late lunch with Tom and Julie. I hung out with them the rest of the afternoon, and then met up with Vidya. We had coffee and cake, and then went to a dance performance that Vidya had wanted to go to. She was going to see one of her friends perform, and I went with her. The first dance was actually pretty good, particularly since one of the dancers was an amputee, which made it all the more interesting. However, the second dance wasn't a dance, it was more of a 'performance art' piece, and I despised it. Actually, I loved it because it was so bad and I knew that I could walk out and give Vidya a rough time for dragging me to a dance performance.

The basic gist of the performance was that there was the 'dancer', who also choreographed, some dude who 'danced' with her, and then a band in the background. The 'dancer' started off the show balanced horizontally on the back of a wing chair, while the lead 'singer' read some text about slaughtering pigs, and the dude shaved the 'dancer's' leg. After he finished shaving one leg, he sat down to read a newspaper, and the 'dancer' writhed around in the chair while the singer sang 'la la la laaaah' over and over again. Later, the dude got up and shaved the chick's other leg. Then she writhed around some more. Oh, and did I mention that she was only wearing a really short white nightgown and white panties, which she proceeded to flash through most of the performance? Call me prudish, call me Victorian, but I really don't enjoy watching someone wearing white underwear lean backwards over a wing chair and spread their legs as wide as possible, nor do I consider that to be 'dancing'. It would perhaps be 'dancing' if she were writhing around a pole while guys were putting money into her waistband, but I really hate it when performance art is provocative just for the sake of being provocative (which pretty much means I hate most performance art).

The third dance was good (traditional Indian moves set to slightly more modern music), and then we left at intermission. That means that we missed the second-half piece titled 'Blood of the Virgin', which is too bad, but I can only take so much fun for one night. I spent an hour or so chatting with Vids in her apartment, then came home. Happily, I managed to sleep until around ten a.m., which was key since I woke up yesterday at 6:30am and couldn't get back to sleep. I spent the day doing v. little - I had lunch, talked to my parents, and then conned Oniel into taking me to Fremont to pick up my old car from the dealership. I just watched 'Office Space' on tv, and now it's time to sleep. Goodnight!