Deco Weekend, Posters and Rupert Everett.

This weekend was Art Deco Weekend in Miami Beach. On Saturday, Farah and I took the Art Deco tour, which was pretty good, despite my basically knowing everything the Tour guides said.

Still, it's nice to look at your city and its neighborhoods (South Beach) thorugh someone else's eyes, and then, all the Deco that you march past every day and take for granted (at least when you have a boyfriend on South Beach and are always there...) really pops out at you, and you understand what a magical place Miami can be.

Today, Lauren and I took the "Underworld" tour of the beach.

We were underwhelmed is what we were.

The tourguide was battling such a massive hangover we split off from the tour, because he found it impossible to form coherent sentences because of his painful case of the Hangover Stupids. Lauren pointed out that from the back of the Tour Group, I was giving my own tour of the areas through which we were walking, that some of the people in the group found to be more informative and entertaining than poor hungover Matt who had a difficult time remembering Al Capone's name half the time. We tried to stick with the tour as long as we could, but we were growing antsy, and a crazy guy had glommed onto Lauren and Me, the Vocal Locals, and was drilling us with stupid questions. Lauren said she realized I was skeeved out by the guy when he mentioned he was from Wasau Wisconsin, and I said nothing about having gone to UW. Lauren really wanted to go to the Dynamo Giftshop at the Wolfsonian, but I wouldn't let us split off from the tour unless we had a really good reason... Which, thankfully, was sent by God, shortly thereafter.

The impetus for us abandoning the tour, was that Rupert Everett biked by, and we wanted to chase/casually stalk him. You know Rupert Everett - tall british Homo that's in all those chick flicks like my Best Friend's Wedding, blah blah blah. Very pretty on screen. Awkwardly proportioned off... VERY LONG ARMS and LOONG torso. Lauren said she thought he looked like a monkey. I thought he looked like a mid-stage HIV patient.

Well, Rupert looked like he'd had a ROUGH weekend. If I didn't know it was him from the Tourguide, I'd think he was just another cracked out Washington Ave. Bum. He parked his bike in front of Crunch, and presumably was going inside, wearing a wifebeater, and black parachute cargos. Salt and Pepper beardstubble and a Sunday-Morning face... We ambled past him, gawking at him through out sunglasses, but trying not to act starstruck. That said, it was the most underwhelming Celebrity sighting I've had, confirming that Celebrities, do, indeed, get massive cocaine hangovers also.

Along those same lines, Lauren pointed out the Irony that normally on Sundays, we're the ones hungover, eating at Jerry's Deli, and the one time we're fresh-faced and chipper on a Sunday, our tourguide is so shaky and nauseous that he can't even do his job. Of course, this affirms that this city is run on liquor and powder, and and any attempt to get away from spending late nights drinking until your liver's as engorged as Foie gras, will result in you noticing that no one else in this city is functional on a Sunday... when everyone has liquor fog going on, it's not quite so noticeable.

And then, you know, I spent $1,500.00 on Art Deco Posters.

Oops.

I'll post pictures of them.

Nevertheless, a GOOD WEEKEND! I like 2007, and I love "The Season." I'm having a great time keeping busy and not dwelling on the fact that I'm going to die alone!

Oh, and I've also lost 7 pounds! Hooray!