After we got off work yesterday, we ran home to change clothes and then headed to the Dallas Museum of Art to see Gary Shteyngart speak. I am in the middle of Super Sad True Love Story, his most recent book, and he talked about how he was really proud of the cover because his dachshund could play Twister on it. He started out with some fairly standard cheesy jokes about having become a "Facebooking twit" ever since his acquisition of an "iTelephone," but the jokes got better as he went on. He seems like a pretty friendly guy--moreso than you might expect from an author of scathing social satire--and danced when someone's cell phone went off:
I think my favorite part was when he said he needed to dispel a vicious rumor that had begun circulating around the "intertube" saying that he was in fact born in the United States, and not in Leningrad. To disabuse us of this notion, he produced his long-form birth certificate--and this little medal, because apparently the Soviet Union gave out medals for being born:
I really enjoyed hearing him speak, and after he read a passage from his book, Mike said he wanted to read it too. We decided to leave early because Meredith had invited us to go to a movie, and although I was reluctant to miss the rest of it, we were excited to see friends (and watch Bridesmaids again, because it is ridiculously funny).
So we drove to McKinney, grabbing the fastest food we could find on the way (and dropping beans on my collar so that I smelled like them the rest of the night), and watched the movie for the second time this week. Mike and I were both exhausted, but Kristen Wiig is worth it. (I'm not gonna lie, I could do without some of the raunchiness--I am never a fan of poop humor--but that is how good she is; I still end up feeling it's amazing.)
We didn't get to sleep in nearly long enough this morning to make up for it, but it was still a fantastic night.
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