Last week my friend Suebob pointed me toward an enormous taxidermied wolf on Etsy THAT YOU CAN WEAR.
The girl who made it is actually INSIDE of it. And possibly about to get shot.
It was made of awesome, and I was able to verify that the wolf died of old age/kidney failure so I could buy it with a clear conscience and PETA couldn’t throw blood at me when I wore it at formal events. I told Victor that I would name him “Wolf Blitzer” and that I would use him as a sleeping bag on cold airplanes (and also to menace anyone who took my arm-rest.) Victor pointed out that airport security gets uptight about snow globes and nail-clippers so they probably wouldn’t let me bring a wolf on a plane as carry-on, but I was already formulating a plan to make Wolf Blitzer my service-animal-companion since I have chronic panic attacks, and airplanes have to recognize disabilities. Like the disability of not being able to be relax on a cold plane without some xanax and a dead wolf snuggie named Wolf Blitzer. Victor started to argue with me but then he gave up because Wolf Blitzer was very expensive and he knew I couldn’t justify paying that much for a blanket with claws. And he was right. Which is why I immediately went on Kickstarter to submit an application for a fundraiser to help me pay for a dead wolf to wear on plane rides. I labeled it under “Performance Art” and promised to repay patrons by sharing photos of me wearing it to the Twilight opening.
Kickstarter responded almost immediately: “Thank you for taking the time to share your idea. Unfortunately, this isn’t the right fit for Kickstarter.” Because apparently Kickstarter doesn’t appreciate helping people with disabilities.
I was about to give up when I found out that the person I’d originally chosen to read my audiobook (James Earl Jones) was not responding to my emails and so instead I would have to read my own damn book, and I told my agent that I’d do it but only if I could be paid in dead wolf snuggies. Then there was an awkward pause and I explained that I’d wear it while recording my book, and that way Wolf Blitzer would be a tax deduction, and she said she needed to go. Probably because talking about tax law is super-boring.
When I explained to Zhon (the girl who made Wolf Blitzer) that I needed him quickly (because I was Team Jacob and needed him for opening weekend) she didn’t even pause to question me. Because she’s awesome. And also because she once made a life-size Tauntaun to wear, so she’s really not in any position to judge me.
me: I just bought Wolf Blitzer so that I can wear him to see Twilight-part-whatever, but you can’t yell at me because he didn’t cost anything.
Victor: How the hell did that happen?
me: I bartered for him in trade for narrating my own audiobook.
Victor: AND THIS IS WHY YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO MAKE FINANCIAL DECISIONS WITHOUT ME.
me: No way. That was a great financial decision. I feel all in touch with my 1/64th Native American heritage. I just bartered a story for a dead wolf head-dress. I’m like Pocahontas, but with an audiobook.
Victor: My head hurts.
Wolf Blitzer arrived. And he was MAGNIFICENT. But Victor refused to take me and my dead wolf to the movies because apparently he’s Team Edward. Luckily, my friends Maile and Laura were willing to come along for the ride. Laura dressed up as a member of the Volturi because we thought it would be funny to have some sort of West Side Story dance-fight at the theater. Maile hadn’t actually read the Twilight books and so I tried to convince her to wear my Bigfoot costume, and I told her that Bigfoot totally played a huge part in this movie. And then at the end I’d be like “I can’t believe they cut the Bigfoot part out! He was so integral to the book!” but Maile has known me for far too long to trust me and so instead she dressed up as a very cynical friend who doesn’t understand how fun it is to wear a Bigfoot costume to the movies.
We laughed. We cried. Maile saw some very conservative looking friends and casually introduced Laura and I without explaining at all why we were dressed as werewolves and Draculas. I took a picture with a very brave stranger who asked what my deal was. I told her I was here to see the Muppet Movie. She looked confused.
My work there was done.
You want pictures, don’t you? Fine. Here they are. Because Wolf Blitzer and I love you. Much more than Kickstarter does. Apparently.
Buying my ticket. And yes, it was a little embarrassing. A women in her 30's going to see Twilight, I mean. Not wearing Wolf Blitzer. Wolf Blitzer is awesome.
"Holy crap, is that a Volturi? Don'tcomeoverhereDon'tcomeoverhereDon't - Oh shit."
It's fine. She's tweeting. Just keep your head down and she probably won't even notice.
Fuck. She noticed. Awk-ward.
Eventually they let us into the theater and we drank copiously. Laura and I rooted for our respective teams and Maile photographed the debacle. It’s sort of amazing that we weren’t kicked out of the theater.
Twilight movies are like the girl version of watching the Superbowl. In that they can only be enjoyed when really drunk.
And it was awesome, except for the part when all the werewolves started talking to each other WITH THEIR MINDS and then it got really stupid and I leaned over to Laura and Maile and whispered, “Okay. Right now, for the first time all night? I’m kind of embarrassed to be wearing a giant wolf suit.” And they nodded sympathetically, because that’s what good friends do.
The magic of the theater. And friends. And Wolf Blitzer.