Wherein I break down my 2010 Facebook situation

While:

1) waiting to see whether I am hello the Fantasy Football league champ holla and

2) casting the awful/awesome Lifetime movie of this classique lesbian craigslist post

(aside)

2a)(Viv and I have come up with the following slash pairs, submit your own today: Margaret Cho/Dakota Fanning; Sandra Oh/Hayden Pannitiere; Jenny Shimizu/Taylor Swift; Ming Na//Leighton Meester; Lucy Liu/Natalie Portman; Yoko Ono/Lady Gaga),

3) I have taken the opportunity to do a qualitative analysis of my current Facebook friend situation; as a result I have

4) created a handy percentage pie chart for your viewing pleasure -

5) Thank you and good day!

Who wants cake?

While I'm thinking about it and waiting for our epic snowstorm, here are a few things I wish someone would invent and/also some random observations I made while serving time in prison. In no particular order:

1. Is there a way to block getting your Facebook friends' incessant updates on their Farmville progress in your newsfeed? If I have to read about another friend finding a lonely lost calf wandering in their field, I will defriend post haste. Invent this ASAP or give me the dets of how to STOP THE FARMVILLE MADNESS. Thank you. (ETA: I found the secret to hiding the fuck out of this application on FB just now. My fool friends are lucky)

2. I also want a new iPhone app and Tweetdeck modification that will allow me to follow these damn lists I have created because Twitter offered that handy option. I need this on my mobile situation so I don't have to go to the Twitter page to follow a list because hello how else am I going to follow the #eastcoaststormofthecentury at work/metro/in bed? Make this happen someone.

3. Could I please get a volunteer to go upstairs and tell my neighbor that her footfalls make her sound fat? Is that mean? Yes, yes it is but after 6 months of hearing her insist upon walking around in her own apt, I think it is warranted. I never claimed to be kind.

4. I recently came out. Like tonight. Yes I Am Finding Kristen Stewart Hot These Days Sue Me. I care not about her actressy skills or the fact that she is half my age. *cough* Have you seen the trailer for Runaways? I rest my case and also never claimed not to have a thing for bad girls. Fine whatever.

5. I suppose no one cares that I am in the playoffs for my fantasy football league but me. Don't come calling when I win that 150 bucks. Now I ain't saying you a gold digger...

My final thought for the evening is this: Lady GaGa - fan of ugly, things that are free, drama, designing criminals, horror/psycho, fashion, and vertical sticks. Oh and also love + romance, esp of the bad variety.

ETA: Snow pictures from this morning. Prob 10" at this point and still coming down.





ETA #2: Dogs in snow

They've never shined so bright

Hello to you. Have you recovered from the blizzard that affected 2/3rds of the country but completely missed us with just a few rain showers? I want to be in the path of a blizzard again. Just FYI.

Let's see, what else? I think last time I posted I was in the grip of a bout of insouciance re: my fellow man, myself, and everyone I know. I am slowly pulling myself out of that by focusing on a tiny little light at the end of an east coast tunnel. Also scotch. We all have our coping mechanisms. I am hoping real soon to make something good happen.

(Hint: I *may* be called upon to service the ladies of Lilith Fair. Again. Yes, it's true - I was once the concubine on tour, being passed back and forth like a joint between Amy Ray and Natalie Merchant. Oh the sights I saw! So you can imagine my surprise to hear from the Canadian via parcel post. No, not that Canadian, the other one. You may have assumed Ms. McLachlan was busy raising babies and doing whatever else it is she does when not singing, but no. She has been ever steadfast in wooing me back on tour all this time. There is a reason it took 10 years for LF to happen again. I have a long memory and my experiences with Rickie Lee Jones haunt me to this day. After my class action suit on behalf of myself and several woodlawn animals was settled a few months ago, I felt ready to hit the road again. No artist would agree until I was placed firmly in the tour rider and so it came to pass. A new generation of young lesbians can now experience the wonders of unfettered estrogen that LF brings due to my generosity and/or many skills. No need to thank me, I know.)

I apologize for going on, it has been a long day of planning to quit my job and daydreaming about my life elsewhere. I also played a shitload of Texas Hold Em on my iPhone, if you must know. I am now in what could be called Senioritis wherein I have ceased to care about this thing they call "work" and this "job". I am counting the days! You shall be the first to know if it comes to pass or if I must place myself in front of the Metro!

Until then, here is a song that you will like:

Crocodile - This Town Needs Guns

Home of the 1994 Celine Dion wedding

Bonjour from Old Montreal:



Aside from a day almost lost due to (my ever-present) headache, this trip has been lovely, with my Canadian tour guide taking good care of me. Squeezing a tiny bit of sight-seeing in, but mostly indulging in vice/hedonism = eating/drinking/lounging/etc and by etc, I mean plus also attitude adjustment of the horizontal hanging out variety. Of which to say that I appreciate the hospitality of our friends up north. Especially when they speak french for me on occasion and go out for beers in their SB jacket. No complaints from me.



Time to go lounge about and enjoy a late afternoon drink. Adieu to you!

ETA: They love their hockey up here. Also, I miss you.

8 = my favorite number FYI

So I just got back from the state of California, such a lovely place...

Much like other states in this country, I feel like it's a very nice place to visit though I am not entirely sold on living there. I say the same about DC. However, I like the idea of it being perpetually spring/summer/fall for the most part and honestly, the Pacific is nothing one can complain about. So all in all, CA is OK with me. And hello, LL Cool J = mmm, I don't think so.

So soon enough, there are elections and whatnots going on. I am preaching to the choir of course, but if I were to marry anything (which I probably would not in general, but hey, I do not begrudge others), it would be:

1. my Blackberry
2. a field in KS or
3. possibly one of my two favor-ite blogger galfriends, Ms. Dorothy Snarker - Euchre player and fellow hoosier and Win - my favorite late night poet.

The other 6 girls I am sure are cool too, so support a good cause and check out the below. Seriously - smoke 'em if you got 'em, marry 'em if you want.

creep

Hi, Bandwagon? I'm jumping on.

Promises: The musical!

Well the inevitable has happened: My Promises bunkmate Viv has been kicked out of Yaddo (again) for trying to sneak a Skidmore co-ed into her room after curfew (again). Apparently Patty Highsmith's detailed instructions about such activities are no longer legible on the gin-soaked napkin my dear friend keeps tucked in her bosom. Pity.

But Yaddo's loss is our gain! Yes, your friend and mine has chosen to summer this weekend in the District. With Lilo and Sam in NYC this weekend, V felt it best to escape the media circus that would have ensued upon her return -- it is a little known fact that Linds' infamous cokepants were in fact a pair of Vivvy's capris she had indiscreetly left behind in Sam's dj booth last year. Quel le scandal!

Our tour schedules have been so hectic, it's been quite impossible to coordinate brunch and such. So this visit should finally allow us to finish our much delayed screenplay Hoboken or Bust for the annual Promises Reunion Talent Show. [FYI, we are currently casting and are seeking a Charo - must love coochie (coos). Interested parties please send headshot and guitar demo. Thanks.]

So yes, I have prepared my literary hero her own writing studio complete with a brand new bottle of Stoli, candy gauloises, and a framed photograph of Anais Nin's bare bottom. That should do the trick. Wish us luck!

ETA/FYI: This pretty much defined our weekend.

TFG

So quickly, I am leaving on Thurs for a much needed vacation. Dear reader, have you noticed that I am a bitter miserable people-hating person right now who is so very near a meltdown/breakdown/ho-down that it is possible that I may not actually even make it to Thurs? Have you noticed my poor attitude and the fact that I am no longer able to breathe?

It's ok if you haven't, I know you're busy. Worrying about my deteriorating mental state is not a part of your job description, it's cool. Let us all trust that 9 days away from Dumb City and my robotech job will partially cure what ails me. I am making myself inaccessible to anyone with a 703 or 202 area code. I will be on a pontoon on a lake in Northern Indiana, I will be in a field with my people in Kansas, I will not be here in this place.

I am also trusting that when(if?) I come back, I will be rested and renewed or at the very least, I will have a plan in place for achieving such a state. There are plans and potentials and possibilities. We shall see what develops. I am hoping this not only for myself, but for the safety of others.

I am contemplating not taking my computer but I promise to take pictures and have stories to tell of what I can only imagine will be exploitations/corruptions/disruptions and all around Midwestern shenanigans. I am going to leave you with a pretty picture taken by (correction) my Canadian tourist on the west coast. I bid you farewell!

testament to youth in verse

So you know how I'm moving soon. Like in three weeks. Well, I've been doing the requisite sorting of shit, Goodwilling, moving heavy boxes. Basically doing what I loathe to do. But times like these give me the chance to cull the herd so to speak and I have been getting rid of stuff. As a result of said culling, I have had to go through old boxes and have come across some gems from my youth tonight. I would like to share some of these antiques with you b/c I can think of no one else who would care. Except for Billy Hicks and possibly the band Berlin who will maybe google themselves and find this. So here you go:

First up is a picture of a picture. As the caption on the back attests:



this will be a picture of my bedroom circa 1985. Behold:



Two things will jump out at you. First, you will be startled by the posters on the wall, for one is of Rob Lowe and the other is of John-Eric Hexum (who tragically shot himself and who is probably only remembered by me and his family). Please excuse - I was still young and clearly naive as evidenced by the fact that there is also a contingency of stuffed animals and a big piggy bank on my dresser. That whole Not A Girl/Not Yet A Woman thing going on apparently. Ah youth.

Next up is a videotape that makes me wish I still owned a VCR. I thought I had lost this, but I found it at my mom's house years ago mixed in with her tapes. I somehow doubt she watched it. My long-time love of Berlin the band is no secret.



The 'playlist' is classic, covet this at will if you must:



Here is what we wore back in the day when we didn't have Swatches. Someone across studyhall could tell the time off your wrist, it was that big. Like our hair. This was post parachute pants era but pre-neon. I think. I forgot to put my phone next to it so you would have some sense of scale, but trust me on the size. We were queens of size re: all things back then. Flava Flav saw my watch and asked for his own bling, but smaller.



We're now in the early 90's memento-wise and what could be more telling of my future than the two items below. Don't think I didn't have to fight off more than a few ladies with severe haircuts to catch this, my friends. Chicago 1993, first row, baby!



And finally, before it was splashed on the cover of People, I knew something was fishy. Ahem. This gal led a double-life as a young grad student in the early-mid 90's. Yep, I'm gay!

HRC

FYI, last night I had a dream where I was campaigning for Hillary and I was kind of in an advisory role. As I am wont to do. She was awesome. She also hit on me. As she is probably wont to do. So I called her a scalawag. Yes, I actually called Hillary Clinton a scalawag...for trying to get me in bed in my dream. She just gave me a rogue-ish grin and said she had to go win Ohio or this was all over. I wished her luck and told her win one for the ladies. The end.

ps. I'd so totally hit that, btw.

asteroid at 5 o'clock = end times!

So a couple of things in no particular order for no particular reason:

1. After watching football today, I'm capping off the evening with one of my favorite things: Disaster Porn! Have you ever noticed how many shows on the History Channel or National Geographic are all about megadisasters and the like? It's awesome! I love entertaining those last few seconds before a black hole sucks us all in. Apparently, our bodies will be ripped apart and skin torn off. Good times! Tomorrow on the History Channel it's all about what happens to the earth when people cease to exist. It is called Life After People. You already know I love that shit. Don't miss it.

2. I have somehow managed to slice both of my thumbs deeply without knowing the how or the when. Like I'd literally do nothing and then look down and see blood and a cut and have no idea how it happened. I have my theories (and they don't involve drugs/alcohol/mental illness) but no proof. Our ultimate demise is going to come via a series of small invisible cuts to our most valuable body parts. Like our thumbs. Or hearts. And we won't even notice it's happening until it's too late, right? It's just a working theory though so I could be wrong. Waiting on more data/injury.

3. I was at Home Depot today with the agent looking at potential countertops and flooring for her house. This was loads of fun. It is my favorite thing. I love pouring over laminates and matching tiles. I am being facetious. This is my worst nightmare. This is why gay men and/or interior designers exist Which is not a knock on my brethern. Some people have an eye for such things. I only have opinions. Not a big fan of laminate. Pass on oak. Are we done yet? I will be in the tool section crying over the table saw I had to sell on craigslist. I have not used my dremel in over a year. I miss wood. Not oak though. The end.

4. Remember that walk in the woods the other day? With the video and the snow and the Canadian? Yeah. That was nice. *sigh* But I found a tick on the baby dog yesterday right by her eye. I thought it was just eye goop and didn't think anything of it until I realized it was round. And tick-like. Who knew Maryland ticks can live in winter? Answer=the tick that I pulled off and sent on her way to the big dog in the sky that is who. Just an FYI.

5. I wish I could report something more interesting than the fact that I went to Petsmart on Sat to buy dog food and someone simply let their dog take a shit in aisle 36 and left it there for me to step in. I am living the life you can only dream of and wish for, admit it.

Everyone's a building burning
with no one to put the fire out.
Standing at the window looking out,
waiting for time to burn us down.
Everyone's an ocean drowning
with no one really to show how.
They might get a little better air
if they turned themselves into a cloud

- Blame it on the Tetons - Modest Mouse

oh yeah

Sue me for being a latecomer, but this pix makes me tingly. That is all.




ps. Hello, does no one care that JERRI BLANK sent a thank you card to my grocery store??? *crickets* Anyone here from St. Louis? *crickets* Viv, I thought at least you would get as moist as a snack cake about that...

+ kitchen sink

Here is the thing: I have had a headache constantly since Tuesday morning and I have muscle knots the size of my own breasts on my shoulders/back so I'm feeling a little bit like Rocky Dennis looks. Maybe? Anyway, point being I have no intention of whining beyond the above. Instead I will tell you that I am getting like a full 1.5 hour massage (with release!) tomorow and this makes me so happy I could cry. I'm self-medicating this evening, clearly. And Bob's your uncle.

Second thing is I bought myself an early Xmas present with a hard-won bonus from Robotech, Inc which is the fictitious name of my workplace from this point forth. [As an aside, this is the first 'corporate' job I've had - I reluctantly had to leave the cushy (but low paying) academic world behind. As such, I totally thought that the concept of a "bonus" was made up shit for movies about corporate life. Who knew they actually exist and people get them? I say bring on the bonuses!] Where was I? Oh yes, early Xmas present = brand new Blackberry Pearl. I love it almost more than is healthy. I will marry it in Massachusetts in the spring, we will do the hokey pokey and honeymoon in Poughkeepsie. Sorry ladies, I'm now off the market.

Third thing is Skype. Whoever invented this deserves the Nobel Peace Prize and I am only half kidding. Where was this like 15 years ago when my phone bill to long distance girlfriend #1 was $300? Though I guess the webcam itself had to be invented. And a connection faster than dialup 2400 baud had to exist. This was in the day when wireless meant etching your email in stone and throwing it to your neighbor in the next cubicle. Man I love Skype so much I think I will designate it as my Other Woman. Don't tell my new wife but hello, free calls to any computer in the world?? With video?? I'm so there. Anyone from Tehran wanna holla at me? We can discuss something nippy fucky live! Or resolve the apparent misunderstanding that exists between us. Whatever, it's cool. And free! Who are we to pass that up?

It is clear that this post is going nowhere fast so I will end it on a serious note. Can I tell you something? I made the best fried pasta dish in the entire world and I feel it's only right to share the recipe with you. It's for your own good and I worry about you.

(ps. I stole this recipe from my crazy Alg friend, if you recall, stayed in New Orleans during Katrina and coped with it by drinking three bottles that night)

Pasta du Fool

Ingreds:
1. 1/2 of a red pepper and a green pepper, diced
2. finely chopped fresh basil, oregano, thyme
3. Spaghetti
3. olive oil
4. soy sauce
5. salt/pepper
6. romano cheese
7. cayenne pepper or a dab of hot sauce if you like it spicy

Process:
Boil the spaghetti with the fresh diced peppers added to the water. When finished, drain and put in bowl. Toss in herbs, enough olive oil to coat the pasta, and a couple of tablespoons or so of soy sauce. Mix this all up with salt/pepper.

In a hot non-stick skillet (or cast iron!) with a bit of olive oil in it, put pasta in and let fry. Don't stir it, let it get crispy on one side then turn the mixture over. If you've got the right skillet, you could flip it like a pancake but I do not advise this if you are drinking by the way. Fry the pasta up on that side as well until it crisps up too and at the last minute, sprinkle fresh romano on top of the pasta and put a lid on it. Let the cheese melt a bit. Eat and try denying that it is the best thing you've ever had and maybe start making your plans now to have a civil union with it in New Jersey or something.

Goodnight!

accoutrements of democracy

To be honest, all this boring talk of work and travel and whatever else I write about is getting to me. Metro this, DC that. No one really cares, right? Instead, for just one damn post, I am going to talk about sex because this is America and we do that here. I talk all the time about my friend A and her sex life, but what about me and my needs? Seriously. I feel like I've let my friends from Iran down by not focusing on what's really important in this crazy fucked up world. Namely: nookie.

I'm a big fan, first off. Let's get that out of the way. Big fan, even bigger advocate, and frankly, an enthusiastic practioner. There are very few things I dislike about it. As long as it doesn't involve children, animals, snuff films, or the use of bodily waste products, I pretty much give a thumbs up. Some things do fall under the category of whatever-floats-your-boat-but-I'll-sit-this-ride-out-thanks such as things that scare me/not in a good way, furries, and pretending to be a baby who needs diapered. I'm also not so much into sticking a bunch of pins or needles in my/anyone else's body and I can't say I'd be up for trying to break any world records involving length/girth/quantity. That's just me.

So what floats my boat? I have made a handy list and I heartily recommend you at home make your own so that you can create your own consciousness raising moments on your next trip to Home Depot or the grocery store. Here are things or situations or personality types or physical attributes or whatnot that turn/turned me on in some way/shape/form and that have led to, would lead to, might be involved in some aspect of, or could be totally unrelated to sex with me.

ps. This is list not exhaustive and is subject to change. Also I am not currently drunk or drinking (despite my slow descent into alcoholism thanks to my anon lurker, hi!). No, I don't know what got into me. Maybe I'm just trying to spread a little democracy to Iran before we invade them too. Bring a little nippy fucky into their lives before its too late.

Enough talk/more action, in no particular order/rhyme/reason or related to any one person/place/thing, that which floats my boat:

1. I love power dynamics in bed and out of bed. Dominant/submissive, top/bottom, control/vulnerability, strength/weakness. The more subtle the cues, the better. I'm no fan of in your face theatrics or stereotypical power scenes. That stuff is too affected, too easy, too obvious. I want you or me to know who's in charge by the way your body moves or doesn't, by the way a word is said or how silence is used, or by what the look in your eyes. Throw in liberal use of the words please and thank you, please. Thanks.

2. Talking before/during/after sex. See above but also include descriptions of actions taken or to be taken, reactions to events, feelings regarding actions or events, and a soft endearment thrown in to throw things off. And be desperate when saying it or be demanding or coaxing or encouraging or out of control. Also words like fuck and god are never wrong. Also lots of other words that would be banned in Iran and possibly Iowa.

3. Accoutrements. I am someone who loves her tools, her camping gear, and her cookware. To me this is a no brainer. I am all about the functionality and feng shui. Use it or lose it.

4. Girls with guns. Sorry, it's a fetish, can't help it. Love it. NRA can suck it, but give that girl a gun. And hello, this pix of Starbuck? So many things right with that. (Win, here's a secret: this would also totally fall under #3 for me, write that story and we're gold).

5. This

6. Having sex or sex-like activities in public places that goes unnoticed by the public. I don't have any fantasies about being seen or being caught, I just really like the idea of having to hide what's going on while acting like nothing is happening when something is totally happening and all kinds of things are going on.

7. Fine, I like lacy silky undergarments, is that a crime?

8. Kneeling. Um

9. Hands in hair pushing someone's head down or being pushed down. Umm.

10. I wouldn't mind another threesome or more given the right mix of people. Ummm.

11. Scott Speedman, Jake G, Tony Gonzalez, and young John Cusack = boys I'd totally do.

12. Leaving visible marks on skin, perferably the back of the neck or the softest part of you. Wherever you choose.

13. I am thinking that really this is just kind of the tip of the iceberg and I am leaving out all kinds of other things that are more private even though posting this is probably a little too public for my normal preference for privacy but you know, there's way more to life than riding the damn Metro and going to work every day and guess what people generally like having sex me included and if you don't that's ok too but my point is here you go a post that I wouldn't normally write even though if you knew me, you'd know I have no problems discussing and/or having sex and hello, it's my favorite vice so why not sing its praises I say.

Can I get an Amen?

I make such a good statistic

Oh man. So you know, it's been about 10 years since I last went to an Ani Difranco show. In dog years, that's like how old someone's grandma might be. Now some people I know/love dislike her, saying her voice is too affected and schticky. Other people I know think she's too not cool old skool like the Indigo Girls or Janis Ian or Chris Williamson or the 1800's lesbicon equivalent, whoever that is. And finally other peeps I know still dig her like I do. I say whatever floats or does not float a boat. So tonight when I saw her and her current band (including a very good/cute girl drummer which, hello, who doesn't love a girl drummer, I know I'm completely and totally in love with a much better and much cuter girl drummer so I'm not one to throw a stone), I had myself a nice time.

She played in Baltimore (one more parenthetical and I'm done here, but let me just say that Baltimore will forever/always hold a special place in my heart) at the Meyerhoff Hall (ok, not quite done but man, the ushers there are some serious hardasses about picture taking..I didn't bring my camera luckily b/c they were swooping in and snatching ppl left/right for minor infractions..the friend I went with was afraid to text on her phone for fear of its little light being spotted and resulting in an escort out - watch your back at the Meyerhoff FYI). Now where was I?

Oh yes. Remember those dog years? At what point did Ani's target audience become old and straight? Did I miss the memo? Granted, I'm sporting some gray around the edges, but hello, it was not that long ago when an Ani show was like total young baby dykes and punk chicks and like, drugs and booze and stuff. Seriously, the crowd tonight was the same type of crowd I've seen at a taping of that NPR's show Whaddyaknow? You know? I could not get over it. Doesn't anyone smoke dope at an Ani show anymore? I saw a show of hers once in Atlanta at which the contact high I received made me question whether my face was melting. It was not. The most whacked out element of the show tonight was some drunk girl who tried to dance near the stage and who was whisked away by those ushers faster than she had a chance to even slur out Both Hands, I love you Ani, woo.

What is even my point anymore? I don't know. She played Firedoor and Dilate and If He Tries Anything which made this old fan happy enough. It don't take much, yo.

With that, I'm outta here. Flying across the country on Monday to Cal(i) where I am sure of two things: bikini - small; heels - tall. Hmm, I don't think so.

I used to be a superhero

Well hello there, little buddy. How you doing? Fine fine, thanks. It's hump day and you know what that means, right? Aww yeah. That's right, ain't nothing like a Wed thang to get it going ON. Holla!

Right. So where was I?

Remember my new guitar girl crush that I developed like overnight? (See below) Well I'm in luck. Grace Potter et al is coming to Dumb City this weekend and yours truly is going to go come hell/high water. Remember when I was all complain-y about going to see Midlake alone? Well, I'm still not all that thrilled with the going to a show alone business, but I'm going to suck it up and grow a set of ovaries to replace the smaller set that I was born with and which will allow me to attend musical events alone and will also possibly give me other superpowers as yet to be determined. I'm really kind of pinning my hopes on invisibility and/or possibly the gift of tele-transportation. Since I've got the get-people-laid power, I figure it's ok to focus on my needs, you know?

Right. So where was I?

It is Wednesday, I am having a dab of wine (not from a box!), and honing my superpowers to conquer the world. I promise to be a benevolent and kind ruler and provide free beer to those who serve me well. Sign up today!

star of a film noir postcard

What have I even been doing these last few days? I have no idea. LIterally. You know how one day sorta blends into the next and pretty soon a week goes by and you're like, where am I/how did I get here/this is not my beautiful wife? I swear that's a good description of things on this end. I know I've had a cold for which I had to take an actual sick day off from work to lay on the couch and feel miserable. I hate sick days on which you are actually sick, it seems like such a waste of a day off. I know I have also been eating ice cream which first of all, I never do and second of all, I don't begrudge someone their ice cream but for me, it's a once a year type activity/give or take it, but yet here I am buying Ben and Jerry's Cutesy Name for Vanilla Ice Cream with Heath Bar Chunks and having a spoonful or five ever night. WTF? I am also experiencing an intense longing for my old workshop (as seen here in historical footage) and I would give anything to sand some wood. When you work all day in your head, sometimes you just want to get out a hammer and a nail like in that gay song. I would also like a pony and world peace, is that asking too damn much? Actually, what I would really like is for this headache to go away and for a Canadian to come to America with that wolf belt of hers and make me forget Dumb City for awhile. That is asking too much I think.

Other things: I have not had any update on my car. For all I know these shady Maryland car repair places have stripped it down and sold it for parts. My car is at some garage with the actual word Gay in the name so that tells you something right there. On the way home tonight, I saw not one but two wrecks on 95 within a half mile of each other. I tell you, it is deathtrap living here and one day when I don't post here for weeks, you can accurately surmise that it was 'my time to go" as they say. I will be the subject of one of those traffic reports on 103.5 WTOP news, weather and traffic on the 8's. And as I say, if the traffic doesn't kill you, the...

Metro will: I saw Brett Butler on the Orange line tonight. Or her younger, healthier Grace Under Fire version. I think she fell off the wagon? And sorta went to pot lately? Seems I saw a picture of her and was like, that's Brett Butler? Anyway. Rest easy tonight, her twin got off at Metro Center after a long day at Robotech and/or HHS and/or some lobbying firm or whatever.

ps. And speaking of falling off the wagon, my literary hero Miss Vivian Darkbloom has written a very lovely piece that I read today at work while pretending to work and I have to say, if it does not win Yaddo's prize for Best Story About A Beautiful Tortured Alcoholic, I don't know what will. Fingers crossed, sweetie. If/when she ever publicly makes it available, I shall duly link to it for the greater good.

We built on the river...

I spy...

Well.

On the orange line tonight, someone shit their pants (or produced an uncanny facsimile thereof). Nice. I changed cars at the next stop...to the car with the crying baby. It was at that point, I just turned up the Split Lip and gave up.

On the next leg of my journey, I recognized another commuter and added him to the list. He is now the Dennis Green Doppleganger and he joins Tall Asian iPod Guy and Circe Nightshade (aka "Cape Lady"). Yeah, I can see this Spot-A-Metro-Commuter becoming a regular feature here. (A variation might be Celebrity-Metro-Lookalike: I saw a Stevie Nicks on the redline yesterday. No shawl though and probably on her way to work at the Fajita Round-up. Holla, pip!)

And you wonder why I drink?

So this might be the last post before I leave for the weekend. I hardly need tell you how much I'm looking forward to this. I won't be sharing any salacious details of my Canadian exploits (sorry to disappoint my friends from the Middle East who routinely search for terms like "nippy fucky" and land on my blog). I will say, however, that said exploits will not only be salacious and libidinous, but also possibly gay. Like very very gay. And also the best. Ever.

And with that I bid you adieu!

Dress me like a clown*

Man, I'm bloggy these days. More to love, yeah? Or feel indifferent about. Whatever floats your boat. I'm going to be busy the next couple of nights and you'll be busy too, all wrapped up in your own stuff and we'll fall out of touch and soon enough the emails and phone calls will taper off and maybe we'll see each other once or twice over the years but let's face it, we lead busy lives but that doesn't mean we love each other any less, right? We'll always have Joplin, won't we? I miss you already... *sigh*

Hello, tangent! Anyway:

1. The DC Metro has paradoxically made me both more and less of a lesbian. I now value comfortable shoes so much so that sadly I notice footwear more than decolletage. And lord knows I love the ladies.

2. Tomorrow, I will be attending the Storm game against the Mystics. For the one WNBA fan out there (holla, 360!), you know I'm gonna get some pix of Birdy and LJ (aka OTP). Oh yeah!

I had one other thing to tell you but it's been lost in all this hubbub. Feel free to make up something salacious and/or prurient and/or hoosier-like that I'd probably share here. And with that, I tip my hat up to the great white north and bid you all a good day.

ETA (2 hours later): I remembered. Remind me to turn off the ice machine at work. I just got rid of the old funky ice and am making new sparkly ice for myself. Yeah, I'm treating myself like a queen these days. Splurging. Decadence unfettered in Arlington, VA. Bling Bling and whatnot. I just don't want a repeat of the Great Ice Debacle of '07, ok? Ok.

(Man, I kinda wish what I forgot had instead been salacious or even slightly titillating, I can almost hear the click of the <--Back button from here).


*which is totally a kickass song from that new mix of sparks that I'm digging on and you should too.

Captain HF

So did I mention that my sexy hair consultant from back home emailed me recently to tell me that she was sure that my hair looked like shit and that was my punishment for leaving her. Sad thing is, she's right! Gah, I have total hairfuck these days. It's long and stupid and with the humidity here in this godforsaken city, I just need to shave it all off and start again. Think that'd go over ok in CorporateWorld? Luckily, I have a haircut this Sat, unluckily, it is not with sexy hair consultant. Wish me luck.

I just got a drunk text from A and J and they are taunting me with all their talk of drinking and such. This is why I hate them and am glad I moved far far away. Why they think I would care to drink beer with them and hang out is beyond me. Frankly, they all just need to stop bawlbabying at me and crying over my not being there.

Oh, and it has been hot/hell here lately and yet...and yet, I have now seen a woman who commutes somewhere along my route wearing a full cape over her clothes. Like a Ren Faire cape tied around her neck, all billowy and whatnot. This over a long flowy dress and elf shoes (making total assumption about the shoes, but probably not too far off). Hey, I say, wear what you want, I don't judge, but seriously, a cape? In this weather? I can barely stand to wear a bra and panties (oohh, google search perverts, do you find me sexy?), let alone clothes over them. Then again, you know, I'm just not a "cape" person. My superpowers are more steathy/undercover and I don't like to call attention to my specialness. That's just me.

I have nothing more to say that has not been said before. So goodday to you!