Autumn has come to my fair city, which makes me extremely happy. I adore the start of fall, as I believe I’ve noted on this here site before. This morning was the kind that is much hated by philistines and much loved by me. A warm rain was falling from a twilighty sky at 8 in the morning…that’s the world I wanna live in.
Many people at my office think that I’m a quiet, reserved type, when in fact, I’m just seething with contempt for my surroundings. So I like surprising them once in a while. We had an office party on Friday which involved karaoke. Judge me if you will, but I rock the house in karaoke, so I grabbed the microphone and awed the crowd. Pretty cool. Then a girl I really like commanded me to dance with her and I danced horribly, as I usually do. Never get too pleased with yourself, Leahy.
My evil MBA uberboss, whose leadership consists entirely of consulting spreadsheets that tell her to fire people, complimented me on my performance then smilingly said, “You know, Rory, you’re in the wrong business.”
I saw the opening performance of my dark and scary play later Friday night and it made me want to hide under my chair. Really. SCAAAARRRYYYY…
While the play generally came off beautifully, my roommate, who is a theatre critic and all, offered the best critique of the show when she said she found the violence against women in the play (which is in the script) unnecessarily fetishized and sexualized (which is not in the script) and I was hard pressed to disagree, so if you see the show and find yourself feeling icky about that, I disavow all responsibility.
Several people say the lead actor (playing the serial killer) looks and acts a bit like me, which is creepy. My friend Rob who also saw the show with me, said that the guy might be cast to play me in a movie titled “The Rory Leahy Story”. I like the idea of someone doing research on how to play me.
“Is it true his shirt was tucked into his underwear two thirds as often as not?”
Man, looking at my last entry on New Orleans, I can’t believe how ridiculously soft I am on GWB sometimes. I’ve always had this silly Frank Capra/West Wing view of the office of the presidency that even when I’m violently opposed to a man politically, I will still respect the man and the office and assorted clichés, but you know what? That guy is seriously a dickwad.
I’d like to take this moment to send a shoutout to Michelle, friend of my friend Sam. I didn’t meet Michelle until she hosted a party in Oak Park (the Evanston of the West) Saturday night. But she apparently reads this website. People I don’t know who read this website rock. If you are someone I do know who reads this website, you may feel free to make the inference that I don’t particularly care about you because it’s entirely intentional.
Unfortunately, according to the rules established in this entry, as of the weekend before last, you no longer rock, don't feel bad though, you had a good long run.
"Shit" is permissible but you can't say the word "delineate". My rules are very arbitrary.
hey. i totally like rocking. awesome. wait, can i still rock as an unknown even if you met me? shit. (am i allowed to say shit on your website?)
No, no. This was the Hollywood serial killer Rory. The indie serial killer Rory would be more true to the source, sure. He would lure ladies to his apartment, empty save an all covering layer of comic books and a commemorative Nixon plate, where he would attempt to tie them up with knots that can't keep his own shoes bound to his feet.
The scary make-out music would still be there.
Geek/neurotic? Are you sure you're not confusing me with someone else you share an apartment with? That's nothing like me. Rob didn't see the first one so, less basis of comparison.
I think he was less like you in mannerisms than the other guy, who had more geek/neurotic in the mix. This guy was scarier, and less roryish.
Guy one was scarier in that he was more roryish.